“Better than that, I’ll call and tweet you every day.” Other voices sounded in the background. “Oops, gotta go. They just got off the pedal-boat. Love you and miss you.”
“Miss you too. Have fun at Kona.” Maryanne swiped to end the call.
Vera stirred her latte and smiled. “I’m going to Kona. What if you surprise him and come with me?”
“I can’t,” Maryanne replied. “I have to find adoptive parents. Did Zach invite you?”
“I’m taking vacation on my own. Maybe I’ll bump into him, maybe not.” Vera glanced at her watch. “Sorry, my break’s over.”
“And I have my appointment. Wish me luck!”
Vera patted her hand. “It’ll be fine.”
“But I’m scared of needles.” Maryanne took a deep breath and held it. The amnio needle was huge. “Now I know how Lucas feels.”
~~~
Dr. Wood examined Maryanne’s abdomen. “Your uterus just hardened. Is this the first time?”
Maryanne lay on the examination table. Her fingernails tightened into her palms. “It only happened a few times this weekend. I read it’s normal. Braxton-Hicks contractions. They don’t really hurt.”
“Hmmm… you’re too early for them. Are there any activities that trigger them?”
“No, nothing I can think of.”
The doctor touched her uterus again, and it tightened.
“I’m going to check for dilation.” She put on gloves and pressed down on Maryanne’s abdomen while inserting her fingers.
Maryanne squirmed and gripped the edges of the table. She blew out a breath to relax, but the examination was uncomfortable, and her uterus hardened again, this time with a tinge of pain in the center.
“You okay?” The doctor withdrew her fingers. “Not dilated yet, but your uterus is hyperactive or irritable. Did that hurt?”
Sweat laced Maryanne’s forehead. She partially sat. “Yes. Will I be able to have the amnio?”
Dr. Wood’s eyebrows creased. “It’s not advisable. You’re at risk for preterm delivery.”
“I need to have it done.” A heavy feeling settled in Maryanne’s gut. Poor Lucas. How would he get sponsorships to continue racing?
The doctor flipped through Maryanne’s chart. “You’re not even thirty years old. Are you worried about chromosomal abnormalities? Does it run in your family?”
“No,” Maryanne said. “I have a court order to analyze the amniotic fluid to determine paternity.”
Dr. Wood’s mouth rounded. “Oh… but can’t that wait until the baby is born?”
“I… I must have it. It’s scheduled this afternoon.”
The doctor stood and tapped at a laptop. “I’ll cancel it. I want you to monitor your baby for movements. The nurse will give you a kick-count calendar with instructions.”
“Wait. I… I don’t really care if… What I mean is… I don’t want the baby.”
The doctor lowered her glasses and peered at Maryanne. “You’re still early enough for termination. Would you like a referral?”
Maryanne swallowed the growing lump. “I don’t know.”
The doctor stood. “You’re at twenty weeks. You have a few more weeks to decide, but don’t delay too much. The procedure is tougher the longer you wait. Do you have any other questions?”
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll give you a referral for termination and see you in two weeks if you’re still pregnant.” The doctor exited.
Guilt’s spidery fingers crawled over her abdomen, and Maryanne struggled to breathe. She patted her belly. Oh little one, what am I going to do with you?
~~~
Maryanne’s phone chimed with a text message.
Lucas: How’d it go?
Maryanne: Didn’t do it.
Lucas: What?
Maryanne: Doctor canceled it.
Lucas: Why?
Maryanne: Said I was having contractions.
No answer. Maryanne put her phone in her purse and walked to the parking lot. She kicked the tire on her car. Stupid electric. Trapped within a sixty mile radius, she couldn’t even drive across the country and disappear.
She unlocked the car and flopped into the driver’s seat. The baby prodded her bladder, stirring a nest of irritation. Maryanne almost punched her uterus. Dammit, maybe I’ll have contractions for real. Then I’d be free of you and your naughty demands. Why had she signed up to be the martyr? She should have taken the damn pills and bled a little. Why had she let Lucas, Mr. Judgmental Puritan, influence her?
50 Cent’s “Lil’ Bit” rapped on her phone. Maryanne set her forehead on the steering wheel and ignored it. The rapping stopped, only to start again. Cold sweat ringed the start of a throbbing headache. Maryanne rubbed her temples. The rapping stopped and started repeatedly. Lucas, please, I can’t talk to you right now. Having a crisis.
The baby stretched and rolled, hiccupping. A text message jingled.
Lucas: Why aren’t you picking up?
A tear rolled down her face. She patted her abdomen and whispered, “I’m sorry, baby. I have to choose between you and Lucas. Will you forgive me?”
The referral slip stared at her. Maybe Lucas would think she had the amnio and miscarried. The medical records would be sealed. With Vera and Lucas out of town, who would know?
The phone rang again. It was Sarah, Debby’s mother, one of the prospective adoptive parents. Maryanne answered it.
“Miss Torres, are you still coming by?”
Maryanne glanced at the clock display on her car. “Oh, sorry! I was running late.”
“It’s fine. Can you stay for dinner? Debby helped me cook, and she’s pretty proud of the cake she baked.”
“Sure, I’ll be there.” She ended the call. What was she going to tell them? That she was thinking of killing the baby they wanted? She sniffed and blew her nose into a tissue. Her baby hiccupped in symphony. A tear dropped onto the steering wheel, and then another. She couldn’t even say no one wanted the baby. She had families to interview and more e-mails to go through. She dried her tears and started the car.
Twenty minutes later, Maryanne pulled up to a modest ranch-styled house with flamingo ornaments on the lawn. The curtains were parted, and Debby waved at her. Sarah welcomed her in.
Debby gave Maryanne a big hug. “Mr. Lucas won the tri-along. When are you coming to swimming class?”
Sarah took Maryanne’s jacket. “Come to the kitchen and we’ll have tea.”
“I baked a cake.” Debby tugged Maryanne’s arm. “It’s still in the oven.”
The kitchen had a homespun atmosphere. Bright valences of yellow gingham sat over the windows, while cross-stitched pictures of cows, chickens and pigs hung on the walls. Maryanne’s mouth watered at the scent of baking.
Sarah poured a cup of green tea. “We’re not wealthy, but we’re a loving family and can provide a good home for your baby.”
“Thank you,” Maryanne said. “I can see you’re a happy family.”
“Do you want a cookie?” Debby pushed a tray at her. “Will I get a little sister or a brother?”
Maryanne sipped the tea and smiled. “It’s going to be a surprise. Which do you want?”
“Mama says every one is special, so I’m sure I’ll love the baby just the same. But if she’s a girl, she can share my dollies.”
“You’re right,” Maryanne agreed. “Everyone is special.”
“Mama?” Debby tapped her mother’s arm. “Will the baby have a special crowsome, just like me?”
“She might, and she might not. Why don’t you watch Mario Brothers and the Princess while I talk to Miss Torres about the baby?” Sarah gestured to the recreation room.
“Okay.” Debby grabbed a doll and bounced out of the kitchen.
Sarah set her teacup down. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, like why we want to adopt a baby when we have a Down syndrome daughter.”
“Actually, I’m okay with it.” Maryanne said. “Debby looks like she’ll be a w
onderful sister.”
“Yes, she’s so excited. She’s almost twelve and is very helpful. But the sad thing is my husband and I will not be around when Debby is older and we want her to have a family member who’ll continue to love her. After we’re gone, Debby will have to go to a home. So our reasons for adopting are not entirely unselfish.”
A dull heaviness gripped Maryanne’s heart. Did they expect her baby to take responsibility for Debby? Were they only going to raise a caretaker for their daughter?
The front door opened and Mr. Tanaka, Debby’s father, stepped in. He took off his shoes and brushed the rain off his jacket at the entrance to the kitchen.
Sarah took his jacket. “This is Maryanne, the birth mother.”
“Oh, yes, nice to meet you. Call me Tim.” He shook her hand. “Is my wife giving you the hard sell? I heard you have several other families interested.”
Maryanne smiled. “She’s getting acquainted with me. It’s going to be a tough decision.”
Sarah poured a cup of tea for Tim. “We can provide your baby a good education. Tim is a professor of education at San José State.”
Tim waved his hand. “I’m sure Miss Torres has other questions.”
“You can call me Maryanne. But you don’t have to answer them if they’re too personal.”
“Nothing’s too personal,” Sarah said. “After all, you’re gifting us a most precious person.”
A twitch nagged Maryanne’s right eyelid. She took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you didn’t have to worry about Debby, would you want my baby?”
Sarah looked at Tim before answering, “We tried to have another baby after Debby was born, but I had an infection caused by the amnio. Because Debby was born with Down’s, the doctors said I was in the high risk group for another child with abnormal chromosomes. The amnio came back normal but I lost the baby, and the infection made me sterile.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Maryanne stared at the tea leaves on the bottom of the cup.
Sarah sniffed into a tissue. “The worst part of it was what if the amnio had been abnormal? It wasn’t until our baby died that I realized the purpose of the amnio was to abort another baby with Down syndrome.”
“Right,” Tim crossed his arms. “We were so compliant with the doctor’s orders we went along with their program. So the answer to your question is yes, we’d want your baby because we’ve always wanted another child, and we’ll accept him in whatever condition he comes to us.”
“I told her we wanted Debby to have family other than us,” Sarah added.
“That’s true. Your baby will grow up with a person with Down syndrome and be comfortable around them. I’m afraid in the future, not many people will be exposed to or tolerate those with Down’s since less and less of them are born. Most are aborted due to the prevalence of diagnostic testing.”
Maryanne clapped a hand to her mouth. “I haven’t had an amnio yet. You mean if my baby is born with Down syndrome or something else, you’ll still take her?”
“Oh course!” the Tanakas said in unison.
“Well, that’s something to think about.” Maryanne’s heart rate settled down. Perhaps the Tanakas would love her baby no matter what. Then what was wrong with her? That she so resented her own baby and wanted to give her away?
The oven chimed. Sarah put on a hot mitt and pulled out a cake pan. “If you do decide on us, we’d like you to live with us, if possible, so you’d feel part of the family. We don’t want to exclude you from your child.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that.” Maryanne wasn’t sure if she wanted to be that close to her baby’s new family, especially since they were friends of Lucas.
“It is up to you,” Tim said. “I heard the CEO of OgleNet and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Bowers, are interested. Obviously they can provide private schools and a wealthier lifestyle than we can. Have you met them yet?”
“We’re a Christian family.” Sarah placed the cake on a cooling rack. “We go to Glory Baptist Church in Union City. I met Mrs. Bowers in our adoptive parents group and heard she dabbles with tarot cards.”
“I haven’t met her yet,” Maryanne replied, her throat tightening. She hated people being judgmental of those they did not understand. “I’m not that religious, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”
Tim shot Sarah a guarded look. “We need to let Miss Torres decide.”
“Of course.” Sarah hung the hot mitt on a three little pigs wall hook.
The kitchen door opened and Debby skipped in. “My cake! Maryanne, do you want to help me frost it?”
“Sure,” Maryanne replied. “Let me wash my hands first.”
She headed into the powder room and closed the door, heaving a deep breath. Her baby fumbled inside trying to get her bearings, and Maryanne patted her abdomen. “This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Where do you want to go?”
Chapter 29
Maryanne fastened the seatbelt in her used 2004 Honda Element. She had been able to sell her electric car to her father who had bought it in the first place. He was still angry at her for not pursuing the case against the church immediately, but banked on the baby’s birth to continue the lawsuit. Being a professional plaintiff, he was used to being patient while reeling in the dough. She looked in her e-mail for Melissa Bowers’ address. Her husband owned the largest gossip network on the Internet. The phone rang. It was Mrs. Bowers.
“Hi,” Maryanne answered it. “I’m on my way.”
“Oh, goody!” Melissa squealed. “I can’t wait to meet you and show you the nursery. Everyone’s having babies, and I’m not getting any younger.”
“I was about to enter your address into my GPS.”
“Oh, don’t bother. It’s really easy to find.” Melissa’s voice chimed through the earpiece. “Come across the Dumbarton Bridge, go north on 101 and get off on Woodside Road. Follow it and turn left on Mountain Home Road. It winds around for a mile or so. We’re on the left. Call me when you get to the stone gate. You can’t miss it. There are two snarling gargoyles guarding it.”
Maryanne gulped. “Gargoyles?”
“Only stone, of course. The gate has spikes on top. Gives it a really spooky cemetery look. And the house number is on a tombstone, 1305. Oh, and don’t let that hooded statue with the lamp scare you. He’s really quite a dear.”
“Sure, thanks.” Maryanne switched off the earpiece and smoothed her sweater. Her baby answered with a swift kick.
“So, you up for living at the haunted mansion?”
No answer. Not even a roll.
“They’re much richer than the Bible thumpers, although they don’t have Debby.” She started the car. Her cell phone rapped Lucas’ ringtone.
Today was the day of the Ironman World Championship, the race Zach Spencer had been preparing for. Vera told her Lucas was being paid by Zach’s wealthy parents to train with him.
She turned onto the street and answered with her earpiece. “Hey, how’s it going?”
“Zach’s out of the water second. He’s doing great.” Lucas sounded cheerful. “On the bike now. Everyone’s talking about the Zach Attack. He’s going to burn them on Palani Road. How are you?”
“On my way to see Mrs. Bowers. She’s dying to show me the nursery.”
“That’s good. What about the Tanakas? Did you like them?”
Maryanne smoothed back a lock of hair and merged onto the highway. “I love Debby. She’ll make a great sister.
“But what? I sense there’s a ‘but.’” Lucas must have moved away from the crowd because the background noise dimmed.
“I don’t know. They make me feel so evil. Like I’m giving up this precious baby, not appreciating what I have.”
“Sweetheart, that’s how you’re interpreting things. I’m going to be back Tuesday. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Are the Spencer’s going to let you go?” Maryanne whizzed through the Fastrack lane onto the Dumbarton Bridge.
“They paid me good money. Add that
to the prize I won at Tahoe, I should be able to last until February. How’s the baby doing?”
“She’s fine. I’m really sorry about not getting the amnio.”
“Not a problem. Are you still having contractions?”
“Nope. Maybe I should go ahead with the amnio.” Maryanne chewed on her lower lip. “If the doctor gives the okay.”
“No, don’t take the chance. Think it’s anything I did to cause them?” He sounded worried.
A flutter of electric tingles hovered around her waist. She hadn’t had any contractions while Lucas worked his magic on her in the tent, leaving her in a satisfied haze of warm fluffies. She shook the memory off. Can’t think about it right now. Not until the baby was born, and he had his reputation back.
“Of course not,” she replied. “Where will you be staying? I gave notice on my apartment. Going to move in with the adoptive parents end of this week.”
She hoped he had plans. They’d both skirted the fact that they’d made love, and Maryanne didn’t want to remind him of her promise to marry him. That had been in the heat of the moment, hardly fair of him to hold her to it.
“Zach has a condo.” Lucas’ voice was soft. The sound of cheering people and loudspeakers made it hard to hear. “When can I see you?”
“I’m kind of busy with studying, but I always have time for dinner.” She planned to continue her graduate studies. One pregnancy wasn’t going to knock her off her dreams. Soon the baby would be settled, and she could move on with her life.
“How about Wednesday night?” Lucas sounded like he was yelling. The wind had picked up along with the crowd noise.
“Sure.” Maryanne said goodbye and tapped her belly. Still there, baby? I bet you would have liked Lucas. She blew out a stale breath. Their lifestyles were so different. He’d always be traveling to competitions, obsessed with the Olympics and the Ironman races. Besides, he’d finally gotten the support of his family. He didn’t need Maryanne to cause a wedge between them. The baby woke up and rolled. At least I’ll find you a good home, and we’ll clear his name.
Twenty-five minutes later, Maryanne drove onto a heavily wooded lane. The clouds had lowered into a mist swirling through the wind whipped trees. Oak leaves fluttered, and angular cypresses and junipers stood like ghostly sentinels behind the gate.
Hidden Under Her Heart Page 22