Fertility: A Novel

by Gelberg, Denise

  “Dat’s de Got’s honest troot, Rick. Tru you, your grandpa lives on. I’m tellink you. I know vat I’m saying.”

  For a man who had until only recently expected to be the last of his genetic line, the poem gave Rick something to mull over. It was true. He was, in a sense, the living embodiment of all the people who had preceded him, including the grandfather he’d idolized. Anna’s very existence was a continuation of that heritage. That Anna wasn’t just his and Sarah’s, but also part of a legacy going back through time, was an idea he was beginning to warm to.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The rough terrain of rehabilitation was both humbling and revelatory for Sarah. At some point along the path of healing, she realized it was not bringing her to the place she had been before the accident. She was heading toward higher ground. And, though disabled to the casual observer, she felt fully alive for the first time in her life.

  Setting aside her driving ambition, Sarah focused all her attention on both the pedestrian and the sublime elements of getting well. At the very same time she was becoming expert at cleaning the pin sites of her external fixator, she was plumbing the depths of the bond between a mother and her infant. As she put her walker aside and mastered the use of crutches, she gave herself permission to fall in love.

  She waded carefully into the river of emotions she had avoided for so long, going deeper and deeper, until she found herself at the point where, if she took one more step, she would be in over her head. With Rick leading the way, she found the courage to enter the current. Together, the two novices swam in the river about which they knew little, trusting and depending on one another as they explored the unknown waters.

  * * *

  One early spring evening, after putting Anna down for the night, Rick joined Sarah on the sofa. They played with the idea of a movie, but realized neither could promise to stay awake long enough to read the credits. The truth was, just being with one another was entertainment enough. Sarah stretched out and put her head in Rick’s lap. As he stroked her hair, she decided to broach a delicate subject.

  “Rick?”

  “Yes, my Venus de Milo, my Marilyn Monroe, my Lady Gaga? Your wish is my command.”

  “Lady Gaga? I didn’t know you liked her.”

  “I do. I like how she’s marketed herself right to the top of the charts. She’s one clever girl. Her voice ain’t too shabby, either.”

  “Well, I have trouble keeping a tune. If you want to back out, now’s the time.”

  “Nah, I’ll stick around. No one’s perfect, though I’d say you come damn close….” His voice trailed off as he started nibbling on her fingertips.

  “Rick, could we be serious for a minute? I want to talk to you about something important.”

  “Uh-oh, to the best of my recollection it was on this very sofa that you got serious about a year ago and then all hell broke loose.”

  “Well, this is nothing like that.”

  “Promise?” he asked warily.

  “Cross my heart,” she said, and she did. “I’m just wondering if it would be all right if I amended Anna’s birth certificate. When she was born I was listed as the only parent. I want you to be on her birth certificate as well.”

  “Is that all?” he asked with relief. “Of course.”

  “Well, there’s also the question of her surname. Would you like Smith to be part of her last name — or the whole thing?”

  “No, no. Abadhi’s fine. I like your name. It’s got character. Plus we’ll be continuing the tradition: I have my mother’s surname.”

  “That’s true. What do you think about Anna Smith Abadhi?” Sarah asked, motioning as though she could envision her daughter’s name up in lights.

  “Sure. That would be fine — and another palindrome: ASA.”

  She sat up and drew him toward her for a kiss. “Okay then. I’ll see what I can accomplish on the phone or online to make that happen.” Then Sarah took a chance and ventured further.

  “Rick?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s something else I’d like to talk over with you.”

  “Here it comes.” He put his arms over his face.

  “Oh, stop. It’s nothing bad.”

  “Promise?”

  “I do promise.”

  He put down his arms and looked at her with feigned suspicion. “Dare I ask what it’s about?”

  “It’s about Anna’s religion. Technically, she’s a Jew — I mean according to Jewish law. A child borne of a Jewish woman is automatically a Jew. I would like to follow the Jewish ritual for naming a child. But I know that’s something we have to decide together.”

  He replied without hesitation, “You can do whatever you want. I’m an atheist, but if you find comfort in the ritual, sure. We can do it.”

  “You’re an atheist?”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No. Not at all. I became an agnostic at thirteen. After learning the extent of the savagery let loose on people like my grandparents during World War II, I withdrew my support for the notion of an all-powerful god.” She looked at Rick expectantly, hoping he’d share how he’d arrived at his atheism.

  He didn’t disappoint.

  “If you saw what I see on a daily basis — the diseases, the injuries, the abuse that kids suffer — you’d be hard-pressed to believe in a merciful god overseeing his flock. As far as I’m concerned, our fate is in our own hands, and it’s up to us to make the best of the hand we’re dealt.”

  Of course, Sarah had come to the identical conclusion while lying in her hospital bed. Still, Rick voicing it so starkly triggered something. Maybe it was her legal training, or perhaps it was the doubt that had lately sprung up, undermining her case for the absence of any god. As soon as Rick staked out his position, she took the opposing side.

  “I can understand that. I think about what happened to Anna and me, and how we were nearly killed. But then I think about the miracle of Anna — how she defied the odds on the night she was conceived and how she defied the odds on the day of her birth. When I look at her, it’s not hard to believe some divine intervention allowed this child to come to be.”

  Rick focused his gaze on Sarah, who seemed almost transported by the thought that she’d given birth to a miracle.

  “Obviously I’m happy — no, let me amend that, I’m deliriously happy — that you and Anna survived the accident. But what about the two kids who were DOA when they got to the ER after being pulled from the rubble? They were on their way home from school. If there was some type of omnipotent being making miracles, why weren’t those innocent kids the beneficiaries?” Rick didn’t give Sarah a chance to answer. “No, I think we’re all subject to random luck, and all we can depend on is ourselves and each other.”

  Sarah had had no idea that children had been killed in the accident. That made it hard to claim that a miracle had allowed her child to live. She got quiet as she thought of the two dead children and their parents’ agony. Rick immediately sensed his mistake; he wanted to kick himself for being so brutally honest.

  “Hey, Sarah. I have no corner on wisdom and you’re entitled to your beliefs. They have as much validity as mine. Who knows? Maybe more. And if you want to do the baby-naming thing, it’s fine with me.”

  Sarah knew he was trying to make her happy — but she couldn’t get what he’d said out of her mind: All we can depend on is ourselves and each other.

  “Rick?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I was just thinking,” she began.

  “A dangerous pastime, Sarah,” he warned, stroking her hair.

  “Yeah, I know. But here’s the thing. You say all we have is ourselves and each other. Okay. If that’s so — and I’ll grant that the evidence is leaning heavily that way — what of all the good works that people do? I’m thinking about all the bravery and extraordinary efforts to save Anna and me, and all the other survivors, from the first responders to Jeff and the other doctors, the nurses and my parents…and
you. All that help, all that kindness — couldn’t they be expressions of a god? A god who acts through people?”

  Rick smiled at Sarah’s attempt to keep alive the possibility of cosmic coherence and goodness. “If it makes you feel better to think that way, go with it. You might be right for all I know. People can be kind and generous. Perhaps that urge springs from some deity working behind the scenes. I just don’t know.” But what he didn’t say was that the only things he would put his chips on were himself and the people he trusted.

  “Well, I can’t say as I know either. Being laid up, well, maybe it’s given me a little too much time to think.”

  “Nah, it makes you deep. A woman with deep convictions is my favorite kind of woman,” Rick said as he kissed her. “Still, if you think you have a little too much time on your hands, I can help you out with a little more sex. It might be just what the doctor ordered.” He kissed her again and started caressing her breasts.

  But Sarah wasn’t done. “I have to admit that coming nose-to-nose with your own mortality tends to focus your attention on the big questions.”

  “Ah, yes. A by-product of the near-death experience. It’s a common response, actually,” he murmured as he became aroused.

  “Rick? Hold on a minute.”

  “Yes?” he asked, disappointed. “Is there something else we need to discuss beyond the existence of God? I thought this serious talk was going to be different. You even crossed your heart. I see you’re just one of those bait-and-switch girls. Start with something light and go straight to theology,” he said, only half kidding.

  “Really, this is something more mundane,” Sarah responded, a bit defensively. “If you’re all right with the baby-naming ceremony, I was wondering if we could choose Jeff and Devorah as Anna’s godparents. It’s not exactly required in the Jewish tradition, but the parents can select godparents as a way of honoring them.”

  Through his frustration, he could see the wisdom of Sarah’s idea. “Count me in. Jeff’s been a great friend. After all, he was the first person to hold Anna when she was born. I think he’ll be into it.”

  “So will Devorah. Her religion is a big part of her life. Of course, she’ll have to come back to New York for the ceremony. As far as I’m concerned, anything that encourages another visit is a good thing.”

  “I’m sure Jeff would second that thought,” Rick said.

  “Wouldn’t it be something if the two of them got together?” Sarah asked.

  “Couldn’t happen to two nicer people — except for us, that is,” Rick said.

  “Well, if you’re right that all we have is each other, it would be great if those two had one other.”

  “On that point, dear Sarah, you’ll get no argument from me,” he said as he kissed her again. This time, he found a willing partner.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  When Anna was four months old she learned to giggle. Her mother traded her external fixator and crutches for a walking cast and cane. And, having used up his childcare leave, her father returned to work.

  On one of his first days back on the job, Rick’s phone rang just as he was wrapping things up for the day. The ring was “Ode to Joy,” alerting him to a call from his mother.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hello, dear. I’m so sorry to bother you. Do you have a minute?”

  “No bother. I’m done for the day and heading over to Sarah’s. What’s up?”

  “Rick, I just received a call from your father’s wife.”

  “Which one might that be?”

  “She gave her name as Kelly. I believe they got married a few years ago. I’ll admit her call threw me for something of a loop. I’ve had no communication from your father or his lawyer since you finished school.”

  “So why was she bothering you? Did she call to commiserate? That would be rich.”

  “No, dear. She called because it seems your father had a stroke today while he was giving a talk in New York. She was in the airport in LA, just about to board her plane. He’s in your hospital’s ICU, Rick. She asked if you could keep an eye on him until she arrives.”

  “I think that qualifies for what Sarah’s grandma would call chutzpah. Surely the woman is kidding.”

  “I’m afraid she sounded deadly serious.”

  “Well, I don’t recall her husband keeping a vigil at my bedside when I was busted up from head to toe, compliments of his drunken driving.”

  “I’m just relaying the message, Rick. Of course, how to respond is up to you.”

  “Damn straight it is.”

  “The only thing I would say is this, dear: You’re a better man than your father. You don’t have to make the mistakes he’s made in his life.”

  “Well, I’m doing my damnedest to avoid them. But I think taking a pass on his wife’s request is hardly comparable to his abandoning me. I was a little kid — his little kid…and his reckless disregard for my life landed me in a hospital bed for months. I owe that man nothing.”

  “Please don’t misunderstand me, Rick. I know the two situations aren’t equivalent. But I know you. You’re an ethical person. In that way, and so many others, you’re a different man from your father.”

  “So what are you saying? I should step up now even though he’s a schmuck?”

  “That he may be, but he’s also your father.”

  “I thought you said this is my decision. Are you telling me you want me to go and check him out?”

  “No. What I’m saying is that, when all is said and done, I don’t want you to have regrets.”

  “Oh, you think I’ll feel bad if he dies? I doubt very much that my checking on him will make any difference in the care he gets.”

  “That’s not where I was going. I’m sure he’ll be well taken care of. But his wife has reached out to you. You’re a person who goes to work every day to help total strangers. Knowing you as I do, I’m concerned that you may someday regret it if you don’t help Eric and his wife.”

  “Got it, Mom. I’ll think it over, but don’t pin your hopes on that making any difference.”

  “My only hope, Rick, is that you be at peace with yourself.”

  “Yup. Got it.”

  “Now, quickly — because I know how busy you are — tell me about Sarah and Anna.”

  “They’re spectacular. Really. I couldn’t be happier.” The words caught in his throat. “Gotta run.”

  “Okay, dear. Know that no matter what you decide, I love you.”

  “Me, too.”

  * * *

  On that warm spring evening, Rick ran as fast as his legs would carry him toward what he loved most in the world. He raced up the two flights of stairs to Sarah’s apartment and found her on the sofa reading Anna an alphabet book.

  “Hey, you,” Sarah said, tilting her head upwards for a kiss. She saw the sweat on his brow. “Did you run all the way home?”

  “Sure did,” he panted. “All the way.” He bent down and kissed Sarah and the baby. “Good day today?” he asked as he started pacing the room.

  “Excellent day. Bubbe Rivka got Mrs. Goldberg’s son to drive her here for a visit. We had a lovely couple of hours. How about your day?”

  “So-so. Actually, it was fine until just a few minutes ago.”

  “What happened a few minutes ago?”

  “You’re not going to believe this, but my father’s wife — number four or five or whatever — had the nerve to call my mother to tell her he’d had a stroke.”

  “Was it a courtesy? You know, as his former wife, she had the right to know? That sort of thing?”

  “No such luck. He stroked out here in New York and was brought to University Hospital. The latest wife wants me to make sure he gets the best of everything.”

  “Really? He’s just a few blocks away?” Sarah tried to process the thought.

  “Really,” Rick said, finally joining Sarah and the baby on the couch. Sarah put the giggling, shrieking Anna in her father’s arms. The baby’s sweet welcome brought moment
ary relief. Just looking at her gave him joy. He wondered if he’d ever had that effect on his father.

  Sarah asked gently, “So what do you think you’ll do?”

  “I haven’t seen him in decades. And if I never laid eyes on him again, it would be fine with me.”

  “That’s understandable. You don’t owe him anything, Rick. Not after what he did.”

  “You’ve got that right. But my mother suggested that I could take the high road — despite everything.”

  “She actually wants you to go see him?”

  “Not exactly. She says all she wants is that I have no regrets — you know, later on.”

  “Oh.” Sarah turned that idea over in her mind. “I didn’t think of that.”

  Rick handed the baby back to Sarah, got up and started pacing again. “I don’t think I can do it.”

  Sarah had seen Rick so agitated only once before, and that was when she had told him she was pregnant. Then she had held her ground, despite the fact that it upset him. Now she wanted to help the man who was fast becoming her anchor, the man who wrapped his arms around her on nights when she awoke in terror, heart pounding and in a sweat.

  “I don’t think you have to do what the wife is asking of you.”

  “But what if my mother’s right? I hate to say it, but she usually is,” Rick said, dejected. “I found out the hard way — by ignoring her when I was a piss-ant teenager. The woman has an amazing record.”

  “So you think she’s suggesting that you make your peace with him before he dies? Is that what she means?” Sarah tracked Rick as he paced across the living room.

  “I guess.”

  “Is he in danger of dying?”

  “I have no idea what his condition is.”