Sunflowers

by Melodie Starkey

He nodded. “Are you hungry?”

  “Not really. Where’s Sammy?”

  “Mike’s.”

  “Hm.” She sat on the couch, draping her coat over her lap. “It was sort of interesting. The questions. Lots of questions about my family. My childhood. You think my parents might be bipolar?”

  “Unlikely. Don’t you have to have a personality before you can have a personality disorder?” he answered, sitting next to her.

  “Gus!” She swatted his arm.

  “Just kidding.”

  “They asked me, looking back, when I could remember any big manic episodes. I told them about your TV. That definitely qualified. But I told them about Sam. The researcher said that sounded more like post-partum depression. What do you think about that?”

  “Did it feel different to you?”

  “Definitely. The TV—that was this racing a million miles a minute headlong for the edge of the cliff feeling. With Sam it was like being in a tar pit, you know? The more I struggled, the more I was sucking under.”

  “Did you ever explain that to Dr. Blair?”

  “I don’t think so. Not like that—the difference. Only that I felt so out of control.”

  “Maybe you should tell her.”

  She shrugged, then asked, “Could you hold me?”

  He pulled her close, kissing and stroking her hair.

  “Hey, it looks real clean in here. Shiny,” she noted.

  “I was bored.”

  “Maybe you should get a job. Subway is hiring.”

  “Funny.”

  “You ever been there—to that hospital?”

  “Northwestern?”

  “No. I was at Presbyterian. The study was sponsored by UIC, not Northwestern. The psych department at UIC. They were using space at Presbyterian hospital so they could have the blood drawn and all.”

  She stopped, like she was expecting something from him. He couldn’t imagine what she wanted him to say, unless… He sat up some. “You saw Sarah?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you speak to her?”

  “No. I just saw her through the window. Cutting across the quad to catch the ‘L’.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why? No big deal, right? You hardly ever talk to her anymore, do you?”

  “I haven’t since October, no. I don’t have anything to say to her.”

  “You might.”

  He loosened his hold, leaning forward to look directly at her. “What does that mean?”

  “Means she’s still pregnant.”

  He fell back like she’d shot him.

  “Gus?”

  “No! How could you even tell, if she was walking…?”

  “She’s pretty big. Her coat was open. Sweater stretched over it. About six months, right? I remember with Sam, that’s when all of the sudden he started sticking right out there.”

  He sprang up and paced across the room, then spun and came back, fists clenched. “Goddamn her!”

  “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

  “No! Yes! No! I don’t know! She should’ve told me!”

  “What did you say to her about Sam’s birthday present?”

  “I just emailed her. Told her not to do it again. That’s all.”

  “No answer?”

  “No. It was pretty curt. And so was the last time we actually spoke. Fuck! I can’t believe this!”

  “You need to talk to her.”

  He sat down and rubbed his hands through his hair. “And say what? I don’t even really know it’s mine. When I confronted her about the abortion appointment, she just walked out. Haven’t spoken since.”

  “Find out. You need to find out. See what she’s going to do. If nothing else, you’ll want visitation, right?”

  “And I tell Sam what?”

  “Right now, nothing. You still have three months to worry about that. But you need to talk to her now. Should I take off?”

  He shook his head adamantly. “Please. I’m not ready. Please stay.”

  “Of course I’ll stay.” She held him, petting his hair, until Sam bounced in.

  Sam hesitated when he saw them, his smile dimming. “What a matter with Daddy?”

  “He’s just feeling a little under the weather today. I think we can nurse him back to health, don’t you?”

  “Did you take his tempature?”

  “No, not yet. But thank you for reminding me. I know just what we’ll do to him.”

  “This sounds bad,” Gus mumbled.

  “Hush,” she told him, then said, “Sammy, you go fold Daddy’s covers back. We’re going to put him to bed and take care of him.”

  “Sounds kinky.”

  “I told you to hush.”

  Sam pulled off his coat and dropped it on the floor, offering, “I can read to him. I can sing him a song.”

  “Perfect. And I’ll make some split pea soup and Rice Krispies treats. That always makes me feel better.”

  “Really?”

  “Every time. Unless I’m puking. But he’s not puking. Let’s go.”

  Gus was trying not to smile as he let them lead him to the bedroom. Maureen instructed Sam, “Help him get his jammies on, okay?”

  “Okay. Sit down, Daddy. I’ll take off your shoes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You can just be a log while we take care of you, okay?”

  “Sounds good. I love you guys.”

  “Of course,” Sam said matter of factly. “How ‘bout your red jammies?”

  They took his temperature, then Sam read Go Dogs Go to him while Maureen prepared his meal. After he ate, they tucked him in, and Maureen showed Sam how to massage his temples. They sang Sam’s favorite Christmas carols, plus the Elephant Song, then turned off the lamp and each snuggled up against one side of him to make a Gus Sandwich. He kissed them each, whispering, “You guys are the best doctors in the world.”

  Chapter 49

  He waited until Sam was at school and Maureen was at work before calling. He half-expected to get her voice mail, but she answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Was there something you’ve been meaning to tell me?”

  Silence.

  “Sarah?”

  “Who told you?”

  “Does it matter? It wasn’t the right person. That would have been you.”

  “It doesn’t concern you.”

  “Of course it concerns me! Are you going to tell me it’s not mine?”

  “I’ve made arrangements.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “A couple to adopt it. They can’t have their own. I’ve met them. Know where they live, so I can keep tabs…”

  “You can’t give my child away without asking me!”

  “Be reasonable, Gus. This would be too confusing for Sam. Too confusing for the baby, growing up. These are really good people.”

  “I am a good person. And I don’t want a child of mine growing up thinking both of its parents didn’t love it.”

  “I’ve already decided. Look, I need to get to class. We can talk later.”

  “I suggest you do some undeciding.”

  She hung up.

  “Damn it!” He paced around the room once, then sat down and Googled family law attorneys. After making an appointment with one who specialized in fathers’ rights, he felt a little better. Just knowing fathers had rights sounded hopeful.

  What about Maureen? They needed to talk about this. He hadn’t even asked her if she wanted some other woman’s child in their life. Her family would certainly be nasty about it. His mother. The neighbors. How would Sam feel? Maybe Sarah was right… No. A child deserved its real parents, if possible. And if she didn’t want it, he did. He just had to explain that to Maureen.

  Chapter 50

  Maureen didn’t come over after work. He tried calling her cell, but it went straight to voicemail. “Hey, call me. I’m worried.”

  After awhile, when it still went to voicemail, he called the director of the shel
ter to verify she’d been there and that she’d left.

  “Yes. She left about two, I think. Said she had an appointment.”

  “I see. Thanks.”

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I was just worried you guys had trouble there.”

  “We’re in a lull. Knock on wood.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Sam and Jordan came in from getting their Kung Foo lessons from Craig, and showed Gus how to kill Ninjas in slow motion. He got them both to promise not to kill any furniture or other children, then fed them some peanut butter on spoons.

  Maureen arrived, smiling and kissing peanut butter cheeks, then kissing Gus. “Why are you looking so grumpy?”

  “How come you’re late?”

  “Late? Did we have something planned?”

  “No. I was just worried.”

  She stepped back, looking at him curiously. “Why? I don’t even live here. I could’ve just gone home.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound… I’m just a little keyed up. I’m glad you’re here.” He returned her kiss, commenting, “You taste like peanut butter.”

  “Imagine that.” She smiled. “But now I’m actually going to tell you where I was, because I’m excited!”

  “Okay. Let’s move out of Ninja range.” He nodded to the boys.

  “Hey, guys, Sponge Bob is on,” she said, crossing to the TV.

  Sam looked over at Gus. He wasn’t allowed to watch TV before dinner time on school nights. But Gus just smiled and nodded. “But no flopping on the deck. Here, give me your spoons.”

  They retreated to the kitchen. “I was at C.O.D. Talking to an advisor,” she explained.

  “You have a master’s degree. C.O.D. is a junior college.”

  “I’m going to take some sociology classes. See about maybe becoming a social worker, or maybe like a counselor. Dr. Blair thought I’d be good at it, because I have such strong natural empathy.”

  “Really? So what’s involved? How many courses?”

  “Maybe two years. I’ll actually get credit for the work I’m doing at the shelter. I think I’d eventually like to work with teenagers. A lot of the women I see at work got where they are because their self-esteem took so many hits as teenagers, you know?”

  When he didn’t speak, she frowned. “What are you thinking?”

  “I think you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known. This is a great idea! You’ll be so great at this!”

  She beamed delight. “Thank you for saying that.”

  He decided to save the baby discussion for another day.

  Chapter 51

  Gus was supervising Sam and Jordan in the bathtub Saturday night when the phone rang. He looked up curiously as Maureen came to the door with the receiver in her hand, saying, “I’ll take over here.”

  “Who is it? I can call back.”

  “You need to take this.”

  And he knew. He rose and carried the phone to the kitchen before saying, “Hello?”

  “She over there often?”

  “None of your business. What do you want?”

  “I want you to come out here tomorrow. Without Sam. I want you to have lunch with us. To meet these people. You’ll like…”

  “No.”

  “Gus…”

  “This is not an option.”

  Sarah took a few audible breaths, then said in a low, tight voice, “You want to test if a judge thinks that a better option is a home where she’ll be exposed to a bipolar child abuser?”

  He threw the phone across the room and stormed out to the patio, sucking in deep lungfuls of icy air.

  After awhile Maureen came out and rubbed his arms. “Come in. You’re going to catch pneumonia.”

  “The boys?”

  “In bed.”

  “Thanks.” He followed her in.

  “What did she say?”

  “She’s arranged this adoption. She wanted me to meet them, even though I already told her I didn’t agree. So she threatened to take me to court and bring it up about you and Sam.”

  “How does she know about that?”

  “She’s a psychologist. Last summer when you first told me, I asked her about it. Told her what happened. Asked if she thought it was dangerous.”

  She was backing away from him, her face darkening. “You told that to this stranger?”

  “She wasn’t a stranger to me. I was feeling pretty confused, seeing you again. Because for so long I just remembered the end—how bad it was in the end. And Sam being hurt like that. But then you weren’t like that at all. You were like the old you. The real you. I wasn’t sure if I could trust that.”

  “So you just thought you’d air my dirty laundry to this bimbo you were shagging.”

  “No! Please don’t… She’s a psychologist. I asked her as a professional. That’s all. And she told me she didn’t think there was any risk at all.”

  “Great. I told you that. But you needed a better opinion?”

  “Please, Baby. I was just confused. Overwhelmed. Everything happened so suddenly.”

  “No. You just didn’t trust me. You still don’t trust me. Look at the other night. I walked in the door and you demanded to know where I was. You’re not my keeper!”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that your job makes me nervous. How dangerous it is.”

  “Pishaw. You were worried about me driving six blocks in the snow. You worry about me talking to my sister or my doctor. You treat me like a bottle of nitro you’re afraid to let out of your sight. You’re suffocating me!”

  He sat down heavily on a kitchen chair, his expression stricken.

  She sighed, then said, “I’m going home. I’ll pick Sammy up at school Monday. Let them know. And don’t be leaving a dozen messages on my phone.”

  He didn’t move as she pulled on her coat and set the pet carrier on the table, then went to find Milo. As she wrangled the cat into the cage, she glanced over at him and exclaimed, “Don’t do that!”

  “What?”

  She just shook her head and marched out.

  As he stood to follow her to the door, something wet hit his neck. He reached up and realized his cheeks were covered with tears.

  Chapter 52

  After painting the whole picture for the attorney, he asked, “Do you think I’m being selfish? Should I let her just give him away?”

  “Hard call. I can’t help wondering how she was planning to get away with this without telling you. Her attorney should have told her you needed to know. What would you think of an open adoption—if you were allowed to keep in contact with the child; have him know who you are?”

  “And how would I explain to him why I kept his brother but not him? I can raise another child. Now I even know how.”

  “Yes, you’ve proven yourself there. But what about your lady friend? How does she feel about it? That’s a big part of this.”

  “She’s not speaking to me right now. But not because of the baby. She loves kids. What happened with Sam—a doctor told her that was probably post partum depression. That’s a hormone problem, right?”

  “It is. If we could get a doctor to say that in court, that would go a long way toward countering their claim that she poses any risk. How long has she been on medication now?”

  “About five years, I think.”

  “And she’s been stable?”

  He hesitated. The attorney looked up. “They’ll be able to call her medical records.”

  “She was in the hospital in August. Drug overdose. She’d just broken up with her fiancé when he found out about Sam.”

  “Mm. Any chance Dr. Wexler knows this?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see. Do you have her doctor’s name?”

  “Yeah.” He pulled out his wallet and handed over the card Dave had given him.

  “Okay. I’m going to need to talk to her first. Think she’ll talk to me?”

  “I’ll ask.”

  She hadn’t come
over all week, having picked Sam and Jordan up twice, but then called Craig to come retrieve them. He had respected her demand of not calling, and when Sam asked him he just lightly said, “She thinks I’m too fussy. We’ll work it out.”

  But this felt like a legitimate reason. He assumed she wouldn’t answer when his number came up on the caller ID, so he practiced delivering a concise message: “Hi. I’ve gotten a lawyer. He wants to talk to you if possible. Please call me.”

  He waited a few minutes after hanging up, then shook his head and turned on his computer to try to do some work.

  Frodo lumbered to his feet suddenly, wagging his tail. He glanced at the time—Sam should still be in school. Then he turned just as she appeared in the doorway.

  “Hey!”

  “So what did he say—this lawyer?”

  “He said I shouldn’t be trying to do this until I was sure you were okay with it. And he’s right. I know this is really awkward for you.”

  “It’s your child. We weren’t together when it was conceived. If its mother wanted it and you were trying to take it from her, that would be wrong. But she’s trying to get rid of it anyway. Of course you should have it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So I need to get out of the picture.”

  “No! Not at all! We need you back! I need you!”

  “You know I’m a liability here, Gus.”

  “I told him. Don’t get mad again. He needed to know so he can prepare…”

  She nodded.

  “He said we can get doctors to say there’s no problem. That the thing with Sam was hormones. An anomaly, not a pattern. Get lots of character witnesses.”

  She was shaking her head.

  “Why not?”

  “That all sounds great. But the minute the word ‘bipolar’ hits the air, all bets are off. The specter of the fanged banshee madwoman chained in the attic enters the room. Not only would they not expose this baby to that, they might send child services over to look into what sort of danger you’re exposing Sammy to.”

  “I don’t think…”

  “Part of why Dr. Blair wanted us to wait is that she doesn’t think you understand the whole picture. The whole social stigma attached when people find out. If I had cancer and took drugs to hold it in check, that would be heroic. But this isn’t the same. This is Maureen’s ugly little secret. That doesn’t seem to be able to stay hidden.”