Risking It All

by Nina Darnton

  “Thank God,” she said. “Does that mean he’s no longer in danger?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I am not authorized to give any more information,” the nurse said. “But when you arrive you will be able to speak to the attending physician, who will answer your questions.”

  Marcia was about to hang up but then asked, “Is my husband there?”

  “I don’t know,” the nurse answered, her impatience evident in her tone.

  “Okay. I’m on my way. Please tell Danny that I’ll be there in a few hours.”

  “I’ll see that he gets that message.”

  She tried not to worry too much on the drive. She hadn’t slept well on the plane and was relieved she had thought to get a car and driver. She gave the driver the address, leaned back against the seat and tried to sleep. She was exhausted, but she couldn’t drop off. She felt peeved with Jeff and she wasn’t sure why. She knew from Berta that he was at the hospital and she knew from all the messages he left that he had tried to reach her. He’d done nothing wrong. It was just … just that she wanted so much for him to be the other parent, for them both to be the surrogates for Danny that Eve was for Griffin. She wanted it to have worked out differently, for them to still be together, for her marriage to be intact, for Jeff, when she wasn’t there, to be the loving parent Danny needed during this crisis. And, she thought, she wanted for Jeff to still love her in spite of everything that happened. But she asked herself again, did she still love him? She didn’t know. She’d thought a lot about him while she was away. And she knew, if she was still asking that question, their story wasn’t over yet. She still believed if they could just forgive each other and if Jeff could somehow find a way to accept Danny, they might still have a chance. She closed her eyes and adjusted the pillow behind her, trying to get more comfortable.

  The next thing she knew the driver was calling her name. She opened her eyes groggily and took account of where she was. They had arrived at the hospital. The driver was asking her to sign the payment voucher. She didn’t even glance at the price, just told him to add a 20 percent tip and then signed it. She climbed out of the car, straightened her skirt, patted her hair and walked into the hospital lobby. The receptionist told her Danny’s room number and what floor he was on, and she hurried to the elevator. She didn’t know exactly what she’d find and she caught herself hoping, in spite of everything, that Jeff would be there. She prepared herself for disappointment with the thought that he’d known she was coming today and would probably be back at work, relieved to be out of it. She nodded, as though she’d been having a conversation and was agreeing with herself. Squaring her shoulders, she exited the elevator and, following the signs, walked down the hall checking the room numbers as she passed, searching for Danny’s room. She could hear her shoes tapping on the polished linoleum floors. A nurse approached her and asked if she needed help and she told her she was there to see Danny. The nurse’s face broke into a big, friendly smile. “Oh, he’s just around the corner. We had a big scare with him, but you’ll be pleased to know he’s out of bed right now, taking a short walk for the first time since he arrived.” She pointed down the hall as they turned the corner. Marcia saw Danny from behind, walking away from her, wearing a hospital gown that hung loosely on his thin frame. He was taking painful, slow steps, his IV on wheels, rolling next to him, his frail body leaning on a nurse, or maybe it was a doctor in scrubs, who was supporting him. She hurried to his side. “Danny,” she called. He stopped and slowly turned around to look at her, his face pale. “Marcia,” he whispered hoarsely, with a smile and an exhalation of breath that sounded both tired and relieved. She leaned over to kiss him and that’s when she noticed Jeff, who smiled sheepishly.

  “Oh, I thought you were a doctor,” she said, confused.

  Jeff shrugged. “I had to wear this before and I just got used to it,” he said apologetically, indicating his scrubs. “He’s okay now, Marcia,” he continued, noticing the worry in her face. “It’s been a rough haul, but he’s going to be fine.” Jeff put his arm around Danny’s shoulder. Danny smiled gratefully at him and, feeling weak, leaned harder on his arm.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, I didn’t know,” Marcia said.

  “That’s okay. Jeff was here the whole time,” Danny said. She looked up at Jeff. She wanted to say so much and so did he, and maybe, later, they would. But for now, Jeff spoke not to her, but to Danny. “Let’s show Marcia how well you can walk,” he said. “Marcia, it will be easier if you support him on the other side.” She did, gingerly putting her arm around him, and, slowly, the three of them headed back to Danny’s room.

  “How’s Griff?” Danny asked.

  “He’s fine,” Jeff said. “He’ll be so happy when you’re home.” He stole a look at Marcia.

  “He’ll be happy when we’re all home,” Marcia said.

  38

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  It was Friday, usually a day Marcia was able to leave work soon after lunch, but today there had been several late meetings. Just as she was finally gathering her papers, she was saddled with an urgent phone call from a distraught author whom she felt she had to mollify. She had tried to pass it off to Julie, but the author insisted on talking to her. The call delayed her for fifteen more minutes. When it ended, even Julie was gone. When Marcia was finally out the door she hailed a cab, hoping that would be faster than the subway. She stopped on Broadway and picked up a barbecued chicken, a few potatoes to bake in the microwave and some fresh green beans and rushed home. Berta had said she couldn’t stay later than five-thirty tonight and would, she knew, be waiting with her jacket on, ready to leave. Marcia was eager to be home, looking forward to the weekend. As she expected, Berta was at the door, holding a wriggling Griffin, ready to hand him over.

  “I’m sorry. I came as fast as I could,” Marcia said as she took him in her arms and gave him a hug.

  “He had his bath,” Berta said. “He’s ready for dinner. See you Monday.”

  “Yes. Thanks so much.”

  She put Griffin down. He was a toddler now, walking around on sometimes unsteady feet, needing constant supervision. She had childproofed the apartment as best she could, but he was still somehow always capable of finding something that might be dangerous, either to him or to the furniture. She put some pots and serving spoons on the floor for him to bang while she unpacked the groceries and washed the potatoes. That diversion didn’t last long so she followed him into the living room and sat on the floor with him, watching him try to push a round peg into a square hole. He got frustrated after a few tries so she showed him how to do it correctly, and the next time he did it himself. She clapped her hands, grinning at him. She was helping him with the next piece, a triangle, when her phone beeped. She checked her texts and saw it was from Danny and texted back. A few minutes later, the front door opened and Jeff walked in.

  “Hi,” he called from the hall.

  “Hi,” she answered. “Griff, Daddy’s here,” she said. He beamed and started running toward the door, and she took his hand so he wouldn’t fall.

  “Hi, buddy,” Jeff said, scooping him up in his arms. He kissed him, then leaned over to kiss Marcia. “Good day?” he asked.

  “It’s better now,” she said. “How about you?”

  “Same.” He looked down the hall toward the bedroom.

  “Danny home?”

  “No. He just texted me. He’s in the park with one of his friends.”

  “Who?”

  “Tom Duncan, from school, He lives nearby.”

  “It’ll get dark soon, shouldn’t he be coming home?”

  Marcia smiled. “He said five more minutes.”

  Jeff hesitated. “How much time is there before dinner?” he asked.

  “It’s fast tonight. Just barbecued chicken. It can be on the table in ten minutes.”

  “Maybe I’ll go meet him and walk home with him,” Jeff said sheepishly.

  She knew he was trying to be casual, but actually
he was worried. Ever since Danny’s hospitalization, Jeff worried if Danny wasn’t home when he arrived.

  “He’s fine, Jeff. He’s on his way.”

  Jeff took a baseball glove from the closet and headed out. “I’ll be back in ten minutes, I promise.”

  She nodded. He had managed to go from hostile and indifferent to overprotective all at once. Only extremes for my husband, she thought affectionately, shaking her head and smiling. All in all, I prefer it this way. She pricked the potatoes with a fork, then wrapped them in paper towels and put them in the microwave. She would have dinner on the table in ten minutes but she knew only she and Griffin would be eating it.

  And she was right. Danny and Jeff came in thirty minutes later but she didn’t mind. Now that Danny was playing baseball again, he needed the practice.

  RISKING IT ALL

  by Nina Darnton

  About the Author

  • A Conversation with Nina Darnton

  Behind the Novel

  • “Celebrating the Unplanned Life”: An Original Essay by the Author

  Keep on Reading

  • Reading Group Questions

  For more reading group suggestions visit www.readinggroupgold.com.

  ST. MARTIN’S GRIFFIN

  A Conversation with Nina Darnton

  What was the inspiration for your book?

  I have been fascinated with the question of surrogacy ever since the Baby M case when a surrogate mother refused to turn over the baby she bore and had contracted to deliver to the baby’s father and his wife. In that case, the surrogate was also the biological mother of the child and she felt unable to give her baby up. It was the infancy of surrogacy and people took extreme and passionately held positions on both sides. When the father and his wife sued for breach of contract, the surrogate fought back and ended with a visitation agreement that recognized the rights of both parties. It was a King Solomon–like situation, and the emotions, ethics, repercussions, and needs of all parties were fascinating to me. I always knew I would have to find a way to write about it and finally this story formulated in my mind.

  Did you have any interesting experiences while you were researching your book, or getting it published?

  I spoke to several women who had gone through the surrogacy experience. I used to worry that surrogacy was a kind of rent-a-womb arrangement that was basically rich people using the bodies of poorer ones, but I learned a lot about it and found that many surrogates want to perform this role for a variety of reasons. I became much more sympathetic to the women and men who were deeply saddened by their inability to conceive and for whom surrogacy was their last best chance. I tried to express this conflict in the book.

  Is there is a book or books that most influenced your life?

  There are three books, all of which I read before my eighteenth birthday, that influenced my life. Each affected a specific part of my development and I am so grateful for all of them. Of course, as I grew older many other books were relevant in the development of my thinking, but these early ones started the process.

  The first is Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell, which I read when I was about twelve years old. I had always loved animals—we had dogs and cats and birds as children—and, coming as I did from a gentle, loving home, I had never realized how cruel people can be to helpless animals. Black Beauty opened my eyes, moved me, upset me, and made me determined to do what I could to love and protect all animals whenever I could.

  The next book that affected my life was The Good Earth, by Pearl Buck. It expanded my horizons from my Brooklyn neighborhood all the way to exotic China, left me with a lifelong interest in and fascination with other cultures, and was the first book that raised my consciousness about women’s suffering and unfair treatment. Of course at that age I thought that suffering was confined to China. It took a few more years (and a few more books) to realize how universal that abuse is.

  Finally, when I was sixteen, I read Marjorie Morningstar by Herman Wouk. The story of a young middle-class Jewish girl like me, I identified with her in a visceral way. I too wanted to be an actress. I too dreamed of falling in love. Whereas the other books moved me because they were far from my own experience, this one reached me because it seemed to speak directly to me about my own life and dreams.

  An Original Essay by the Author

  “Celebrating the Unplanned Life”

  A few years ago, my husband hosted a book party to celebrate the publication of my first novel, An African Affair. The book is a thriller based in Lagos, Nigeria, where I lived with my family nearly thirty years ago. In his toast, my husband pointed out that I accompanied him to Nigeria even though it meant giving up work on a graduate degree in developmental psychology—and this, after I had given up Yale Drama School where I hoped to train as an actress in order to move with him to New York City, when he started a job at the New York Times. He went on to list all the other career opportunities I gave up in order to marry him, raise our children, and follow him, a foreign correspondent, around the world.

  It was a moving toast. But in listing all the things I had given up to be his wife, he forgot to mention all the things I gained. Now I am married and in love with the same man I fell in love with more than half a century ago at the University of Wisconsin. We have three wonderful children, all of whom came to celebrate my book. I have seen and experienced more of the world than I ever dreamed of.

  But there’s more, and this is the part that I want to stress: everywhere we went, I found something interesting and exciting to do. I tried out different careers the way today I might try on a new dress. I found a developmental psychologist in Africa and did a cross-cultural study with him that ended in my getting the degree I thought I had abandoned. I acted in plays with the community theater in Nairobi. I started to write articles and ended by being a journalist, writing about Nigeria, Poland, Spain, and then theater, movies and fashion in New York City. And finally, the experiences of thirty years ago in Nigeria—when I had no idea where my life would next take me—found their way into my first novel. Finally, in writing Risking It All, I took the subject of surrogacy that had interested and challenged me for years and by exploring it I came to understand it and to change my views about it. I suddenly was interested not just in the truth that facts provide, but in the heart of the truth which, in my opinion, is only reachable through fiction.

  I want to raise a toast to serendipity, to self-invention and to the virtues and value of an unplanned life. I’m not claiming it’s the only route to a happy life—far from it—but it’s definitely another one and one that we are not always told about. There is so much emphasis on making plans, especially for upwardly mobile, middle-class children. We have to get good grades because next is job hunting or graduate school and then we start interviewing and then, well, then there’s the next forty years in whatever profession we’ve chosen. Often, it isn’t the profession that gives us the most satisfaction.

  When I meet young people straight out of college, agonizing about what to do next, I try to tell them first to calm down. Then I ask what they enjoy doing and suggest they look for a job that follows their interests. It doesn’t have to lead to anything. It doesn’t have to be a “career path.” That will come. It is just important to take a step into life and to let the current pull you for a while. Sometimes it tosses you onto a shore you never even knew existed.

  I have a niece who vowed since she was a small child that she would take care of her grandmother (my mother) when her grandmother got old. My mother was living in an assisted living facility in Arizona. My niece grew up there, but had moved to Massachusetts. The rules of the facility allowed people to stay there as long as they were largely self-sufficient or could be cared for by a spouse. After several small strokes, my mother didn’t meet those conditions and my father was unable to care for her on his own. My niece, who wasn’t sure what career she wanted to follow, decided to move back to Arizona and take care of her grandmother.

  Everyone objecte
d. What will you do? we asked. How will you support yourself? How will you find a career? But she insisted. She got a temporary job as a teacher in a local school, rented a house and invited both my parents to live with her. Along the way, she found she liked taking care of elderly people. When my parents died, she opened a care home for the aged, which became one of the most popular in town. It was so successful, she opened a larger one. She had found that this was more than a job, it was a calling. Now, back in Massachusetts, she is enrolling in a PhD program in gerontology. She found herself and her career not by searching for it, but by following her heart.

  My trajectory too was unplanned. But by staying open to new experiences and opportunities, I built a life I never would have dreamed of had I followed my original path.

  Reading Group Questions

  1.   Marcia has to work hard to convince Jeff to try surrogacy. What do you think of his objections, especially those that relate to his feeling that it’s somehow not “natural”? How do you feel about surrogacy? If you were unable to conceive a baby in any other way, would you consider finding a surrogate?

  2.   How much did you know about alternate ways of becoming parents before you read this book? Did you learn anything new from your reading? Did it change your opinion of surrogacy?

  3.   Marcia and Jeff are upper middle class professionals. Eve is a poor, high school dropout who is a single mother. Do you think it is exploitive to take advantage of her need for money by paying her to have their baby?

  4.   Marcia’s relationship with Eve was contractual but it grew to be emotional as well. How much do you think she owes Eve and is it worth the price she has to pay?

  5.   After the tragedy, Jeff and Marcia react in very different ways. Do you think men and women often handle family crises differently?