by Sean Geist
I wanted to be so mad, a primal fury was building in me and I knew I couldn't let it blow up on Robin, even if she was partly to blame.
“I've been so careful,” she said. Her head was bowed, her eyes boring holes in the floor.
“We used condoms.” I was stating the obvious, but I had to say something. Remaining silent would just allow the anger to build.
“Yes. I don't think you're...” she couldn't finish the sentence.
“Did you and Scott stop using them?” I asked. I couldn't keep the venom out of my voice. I saw Robin's face scrunch up as the angry words hit their target.
“We had been,” she said. “But in Seattle. We ran out.”
“They don't sell them there?”
Nothing. My cynical barbs weren't encouraging Robin to open up. I needed to calm myself down.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I shouldn't say that. I just. I just need to know.”
“We were fooling around. It was late. Scott went to get one and. Well, the box was empty.”
I wanted to interrogate her. Ask her if he said anything when he used the last one. I kept my mouth shut.
She continued, “we could have stopped. We should have stopped. But, we didn't. I was on my new birth control and near the end of the safety period. I thought it would be safe.”
You were wrong, I screamed in my head.
“I guess I was wrong,” she said, giving a voice to my thoughts.
My mind went to what we would do next. In the early years of our marriage we thought about having kids, but Robin's gynecologist strongly recommended against it. My wife had treatable high blood pressure that made carrying a pregnancy to term life-threatening to both her and the baby. I didn't need to spell it out to her, but I had to ask the question.
“What are you going to do?” I didn't want to assume anything. I couldn't force her to get an abortion, but it would be my preferred course of action, for many reasons.
I wasn't going to raise another man's child. I loved Robin, but if she chose to keep the child with all the risks that incurred, we would have to divorce.
My top reason, though, was I didn't want anything to happen to Robin. I loved her and would never want any harm to come to her.
“I don't know.” she said.
“But you do know it could kill you. Having a child.”
“Yes, Peter. I know that.”
“Don't get mad at me for bringing that up,” I said. I was raising my voice to match hers. “You and Scott are to blame for this mess.” I felt like a heel the moment the words left my mouth. Here was Robin, facing a life or death situation and I was letting petty anger and jealousy get the better of me.
My wife looked at me. I could see a small tear in the corner of her eye. The longer I looked the larger it became.
“I'm sorry,” I said, lower my voice. “I shouldn't have said that.”
Then Robin said something I wasn't expecting, “I don't blame you.”
Now it was my turn to be speechless.
“I've been treating you like shit, I know,” she continued. “I love you, Peter. I will always love you, no matter what.”
They were nice words to hear, but deep down they rang hollow. I wanted to argue the point but the current pregnancy crisis (and it was a crisis, as in life-threatening) caused me to hold my tongue. Instead of being a cynical bastard, I put my arm around my wife and pulled her in for a hug. My heart ached for her, and for myself.
“I don't want to lose you like this, Robin.”
“What do you think I should do?” My wife looked up at me, her eyes were pleading for answers
“The only logical thing would be to have an abortion.” My motivation was pure. Maybe part of me was pissed because Scott was the one who knocked her up, but I was one hundred percent sure I would have suggested the same thing, even if I had been the father. Robin's well-being was my top priority.
“I figured you'd say that,” she said. My wife bent her head down and stared into my chest. I so wanted to call her on the bullshit, but I didn't.
“Then, what are you going to do?” I asked again.
“I told you. I don't know.”
“The sooner you make a decision, the better.”
“Lay off me!”
I shut up. Nothing I could say right now would make the situation any better. If I could, I would go back in time and buy them the damn condoms. But then, if I could do that, I'd go back and agree to play slots in Vegas like Robin had suggested, thus avoiding our run in with Scott at the roulette table.
“I don't know what to do,” she said again. It had become a mantra. Like she did know what she should do, but couldn't actually make the move. I didn't say anything. It was a decision she would have to make herself.
I was cradling Robin against my body when she said something else that felt like a punch in the gut. “I wish Scott was here.”
What. The. Fuck. I wanted to scream. I was trying to comfort her, all the while dealing with my own roiling emotions.
“Have you told him yet?” My voice was as flat and dry as the desert highway.
“No. I took a home test today. You're the first to know.”
“So, you haven't been to the doctor?”
“No.”
“Then you can't be sure,”
“Peter. I took two tests. I've got the symptoms. I'm sure.”
I wanted to try to calm her, tell her she might be wrong, but I didn't feel it. She was sure, so I was sure.
“Do you want to call him and tell him?”
“This isn't something I can say over the phone.”
“You need him here?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Call him and tell him to come out.”
“He's busy. He's got other business to deal with.”
“Dammit Robin. Wake the fuck up. This is your life.”
“Peter...”
“Don't Peter me.” I felt stupid trying to convince Robin to call her lover, but I did it anyway. “If you need to tell him anything, and I'd argue you don't, call him and tell him to get his ass out here.”
“But...”
“Robin, you're a stronger woman than this. You've got a husband and a lover and you're building a new business from scratch. Don't tell me you don't have the ovaries to deal with an un-intended pregnancy.” Something I said must have hit the right chord.
“You're right, Peter. I'll call him.”
While she tried to reach Scott, I drove down into town to pick us up some fast food – burgers and fries. When I got back, Robin was sitting on the couch sipping wine, a newly opened bottle of white sat on the coffee table.
I thought that wasn't a wise thing for a pregnant woman to do, but since I really didn't see her carrying it to term, I kept my mouth shut. Instead, I poured myself a glass and plated out dinner.
“Did you get hold of Scott?” I said, just before taking a bite of my burger.
“Yeah,” Robin said. “I told him it was urgent he come out here. He said he's getting the next flight out to Phoenix. He should be here tomorrow evening.”
We ate in silence for a little while.
“You don't have to stay,” my wife said. She was swirling a french fry around in her ketchup. “Not if you don't want to. This is my problem. Not yours.” Her words said one thing, but her eyes – they implored me to stay.
“Robin, any issue you have to face involves me. I'm staying, unless you kick me out.”
A soft sigh blew past her lips.
“I'm here for you, love,” I said. “And I always will be.”
We drank some wine, ate our burgers and watched a movie on cable. We went to bed early; the drive and the emotional turmoil had me exhausted and I'm sure Robin wasn't feeling any better. We both slept in her bed, but we didn't make love. We were still not in the right space. I couldn't say how she felt, but until I knew I was her only true love I didn't think I'd be able to have sex with her.
I went to sleep, fearing what tomorrow would bring.
That morning, I just wanted to know if my wife wanted to remain married to me. Now that seemed like the least of our worries.
As I drifted off to sleep, I knew one thing for sure. I would support any choice she made. Whether it was as her husband or a very close friend.
***
Scott wasn't suppose to be in Sedona until six, but I guess he broke a few traffic laws because around four o'clock he came barging into the living room like he owned the place; he did own the place.
Robin and I hadn't discussed her condition any further. We had gone over it pretty well the previous day and she wasn't going to make a decision one way or the other without Scott's input. I understood that, I accepted that, but I didn't like that. Accepting the unacceptable seemed to have become a skill I was honing to a razor's edge.
“Where is she?” were the first words out of his mouth, followed closely by, “And what are you doing here?”
“She's my wife and I'm allowed to be here,” I said, wanting to add asshole. “She's in the bedroom,” I said instead.
Scott went back down the hall and I followed. Robin was wearing just a towel wrapped round her slim figure; she had finished taking a shower. My wife was blow drying her hair and was startled when Scott came up from behind and put his arms around her.
“You okay, Bunny?” He turned her around and kissed her on the lips. That was a new one, Bunny. Seemed like a pretty condescending pet name to me, but I guess it was better than Sugar or Dollface. Robin didn't seem to mind it. Scott held her for a moment; she didn't pull away.
“Scott, you're early,” my wife said once he released her. I really would have liked to know what her term of endearment for him was.
“You sounded upset when you called, so I got here as fast as I could.” He turned to look at me. “Why didn't you tell me Peter was going to be here?”
“Then you might not have rushed or you might have asked why I wanted to see you.”
“So, you're okay.” It was a statement of fact and a question.
“Kinda.”
Scott's eyebrows furrowed. “What does that mean?” He wasn't very bright, but that was just my opinion.
“I'll tell you in a sec. Let me get dressed. You and Peter go have a drink.”
Reluctantly Scott joined me in the dining room for a glass of wine.
“Sorry we don't have any scotch,” I said. “Will a chilled Pinot Grigio do?”
Scott took the glass and said, “what's with the 'we', this is my house, not yours.”
“Just trying to be polite.”
“We'll you can stop. I'd really like you to leave now. Robin and I can deal with whatever's bothering her.”
“I won't leave til she tells me to.”
Scott couldn't come up with a retort that didn't include punching me in the face, so he took a sip of wine instead. It seemed to calm him. He knew Robin still loved me, despite his best efforts to come between us. I wondered if he knew about my ultimatum. I didn't think he did. As little about Scott that I knew, one thing I was positive of, he would have found a way to use that against me. I figured my wife was playing that decision close to her chest. If Scott did know, I'm sure he'd be doing more lobbying on his own behalf.
So we stood on either side of the table, staring at each other like a couple of elk bucks sizing up the competition for the doe's affection. I promised myself I wasn't going to antagonize Scott. Robin was going to have to make her own mind up about him and riling up her lover wasn't going to endear her to me.
The tension between us was finally broken when Robin came down the hall. She was radiant – did pregnancy really do that? Her hair was pulled back in a small ponytail. She was wearing a green Spirit Spa T-shirt and a pair of beige capri pants.
Her breasts caught my attention; I'm sure they had the same affect on Scott. My wife had no bra on; her pert nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric of the shirt. Were they a little bit bigger? Certainly not this early. My expectations were playing havoc on my perception.
“Okay, lovers,” Robin said, trying to bring a bit of levity to the situation. “Come join me in the living room.” Scott followed and sat next to her on the couch. I poured her a glass of Pinot and pulled out a dining room chair to sit on. I handed Robin her drink. “Thanks,” she said and took a gulp, downing half the glass. I wanted to believe I knew what choice she was going to make by how much alcohol she was drinking, but I wasn't going to take anything for granted. I would never again take anything for granted. Ever.
“Okay, Robin. What's up? Your call sounded urgent. I'm here, Peter's here – god knows why. What's wrong?”
“I'm pregnant.” Leave it to Robin to be blunt with Scott, she sure wasn't with me.
To his credit, Scott didn't drop his glass, instead he took a drink. “You're pregnant.” A look of concern spread across his face – followed close with a big stupid grin. “Congratulations.” He leaned over to kiss Robin, she didn't turn to meet him, so his lips landed on her cheeks. He looked over at me with about half the enthusiasm. “Guess I should say grats to you, too.” He reached his hand out for a shake.
“It's not mine,” I said trying hard to remain calm.
Scott's eye's bulged. “But... but we used... condoms.” Then the realization dawned on his simple little mind. “Except for that one time.” Neither Robin nor I said anything. We wanted to let him work it out.
“I'm going to be a dad!” Scott jumped up and pulled my wife up with him. He gave her a big bear hug. She put in enough effort for a weak hug in return. Her lover didn't seem to notice. “Oh, God, Robin. You're going to be a great mom,” he said.
Robin stayed silent, so it was up to me to clue the idiot in. “You're assuming she plans to keep it.”
Scott looked at me like I was speaking Chinese. “Of course, she's keeping it.”
“Don't you think you should ask her?”
He turned to Robin and said, “You're keeping it. Right.” It was a statement, not a question. Robin didn't say anything, but I did notice a small tear trickle down her cheek. Scott noticed, too. “Why are you crying, Bunny? This is great news.”
God that nickname was grating.
“Don't you know why we don't have kids?” I finally said.
“No. Never thought it was my business. Until now, I guess.”
“Giving birth could kill Robin.”
Scott turned to my wife with a genuine look of concern on his face and asked, “Is this true?”
Robin silently nodded her head. I really wished she would speak up, instead of leaving it all to me. “I wouldn't lie about this.”
“Is it a hundred percent certain? Having a kid will kill you?”
“Close,” she said. Finally.
“What's close?” Scott asked. He grabbed Robin by the shoulders. Her eyes popped open. I moved to step between them, but Scott easily pushed me aside. He saw it coming.
“Scott. Peter. Behave, both of you.”
“How close,” Scott asked again, looking at my wife then at me.
“Eighty percent,” I said. “Which is eighty percent too much.” I knew that wasn't literally what I meant, but he got the message.
“There must be something. Medicine.”
“It's her high blood pressure, Scott. Meds would hurt the fetus.”
“But.” Scott let go of Robin, his face turned ashen. “I'm going to be...”
“No, Scott. You're not,” I said.
He scowled at me, his eye's burning. “I guess you want her to kill the kid.” Hatred dripped from his words.
“I don't want my wife to die. She's more important than any bundle of cells in her body.”
“It's a baby - not a bundle of cells.”
I didn't want to get into a political or philosophical debate at the moment. Our personal feelings on abortion didn't matter.
“Robin's life is the most important thing,” I said. “Above all else.”
“Yeah. Right,” Scott said. Both Robin and I looked at him in disbelief.
“No, no. That came out wrong,” he said, realizing how he sounded. “I'm just saying Peter wants the abortion because it's not his kid.”
“Fuck you, Scott,” I wanted to punch him, but I didn't. My fist would never get near his face, and he'd kick my ass. Robin would get upset and it would do me no good at all. I took a deep breath and continued. “It's not my abortion or your abortion. It's up to Robin.”
“Yes, Robin,” Scott said. “I'm sorry. I'm being an ass. I'll do anything to help. We'll get the best doctors. You'll be taken good care of.”
“I'm not sure what to do, Scott.”
“Easy. Have the baby. We'll raise it together. You and me,” Scott looked over at me. “And I guess Peter, too.”
Now I was certain Robin hadn't told him about my ultimatum. He was still trying to talk her into going through with the pregnancy – even pulling me into his pitch. He talked about how we all would raise the kid – three loving parents. The child would have the best schools and never want for anything. He didn't touch on the fact the kid – if it was lucky enough to survive delivery – would most likely not have a mother; she'd die in childbirth.
I was still fuming about his accusation I wanted Robin to abort for my own selfish reasons. I knew that if the chance of Robin surviving the nine-month ordeal was better and she still wanted to have the child, I would have stepped aside and let her start a family with Scott. I would die a little inside, but I still wanted what was best for my wife, even if that meant she wasn't going to be my wife any longer.
Now, the thought of that, my wife having Scott's baby, ignited a burning feeling in the pit of my stomach and I have to admit I was madly jealous that another man had impregnated Robin. The primal fury returned and was feeding on that emotion.
I looked at Scott, calmly trying to talk my wife into the extremely dangerous decision to have his baby. He was unaware of the green rage that was burning in me.
If I was fair and called him out to fight, he'd beat me for sure. He was bigger, stronger and probably faster, as well. Surprise would be my only route to victory. The chance came and I took it. I did what I promised myself I would not do. I attacked Scott.
If I had been watching from a distance, I'm sure I would have loved the look of shock on Scott's face as I rushed him. I launched myself over the coffee table that was between us and drove my shoulder into his chest. I knocked the wind out of him. I followed that with some mostly ineffectual punches to his stomach and head. Scott easily brushed them off, all the while trying to catch his breath.