Mother Knows Best

by Barbara Bretton

  "Yes. Not probable but still possible."

  "Medical science is amazing," she said, forcing herself to believe her own words. "As long as we're both healthy, there will be a way." I can handle this. There's in vitro fertilization, and surrogate sperm donors, and adoption. Look at how you love Kath and Jenny. It doesn't matter how the child arrives -- all that matters is that you and Gregory love each other.

  "Mary Ann was right," he said, ruffling her curls. "You're an incurable optimist."

  "Yes," she said fiercely, covering his body with hers. "I am." Fever sizzled through her blood, a violent desire to affirm life in the most basic manner and she understood what had driven Gregory earlier that evening.

  She encircled his nipple in her mouth, drawing it against her teeth, sliding her tongue across the hard nub until his body began to move in an answering rhythm. Her thighs straddled his lean hips and she felt him grow hard and powerful beneath her. Instantly she was ready for him, moist and pliant and aching to be filled; but that wasn't enough. That simple act of coming together couldn't possibly be enough.

  What she wanted was to own him, to pour her own strength and hope and future into him, to burn away fear and pain and uncertainty with the white-hot fire building inside her.

  What she wanted was to believe it would all work out exactly as she had it planned.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Diana stood in the middle of a pile of boxes and held her hands up in submission. It was the morning of the 31st of July and, once again, she was behind schedule.

  "Where did all of this come from?" she said, with a groan. "How can one person accumulate so much junk in less than a month?"

  Gregory picked up the largest of the boxes and pretended to stagger under its weight. "And I invited you to spend three months on my boat? I must have been nuts -- we'll sink before we get five hundred feet away from the pier." Just that morning he had taken possession of a slip on the South Shore until Labor Day, even though he intended to be gone before August was over.

  "Having a change of heart, Dr. Stewart?"

  He put the box back down. "Never," he said, drawing her into his arms. "That's one thing that will never happen."

  She glanced at his watch. "You'll be late for work," she said as he kissed the side of her throat. "You should -- "

  "Quiet," he said. "I'm my own boss, remember?"

  She sighed with pleasure. "I remember."

  "Once we set sail, I'm tossing all watches overboard." He leaned back and met her eyes. "Think you can handle that, Mother?"

  "No," she said, so quickly that they both laughed. "I'm not sure I can."

  "You have a lot to learn about having fun." He ran his hands along the inward curve of her waist.

  "And you have a lot to learn about -- " She whispered a provocative suggestion in his ear.

  "I think I'll call in sick."

  She extricated herself from his embrace. "School's not in session this morning."

  His eyes glittered with promise. "You'll pay for this."

  "I was hoping you'd say exactly that." She waved him off to work and went back inside Gull Cottage to finish packing.

  Diana found it hard to believe that three and a half weeks could cause such a sea change in her life, but there it was.

  She had arrived at Gull Cottage on July 1st filled with plans for her great Labor Day husband hunt; she was leaving Gull Cottage with the man of her dreams. She might not have made all the progress on her manuscript that she would have liked, but she was certainly way ahead of schedule when it came to love and romance.

  They hadn't spoken about his illness since the night he told her he'd had cancer. There seemed no need to dwell on the darker side of life; she had only to look at him to see he brimmed with health and vitality. And if sometimes at night -- in the darkest hours before dawn -- her mind turned to cancer and the specter of one day losing him, she was to be forgiven. The depressing thoughts always disappeared with the coming of daylight

  And although he had told her that fathering children would be a longshot for him, her mind had skittered over that fact and settled on the one chance in one hundred that it would someday happen.

  Paula had said no one was perfect and now Diana had reason to agree with her sister. Gregory wasn't perfect, but he still came closer to that sublime state than anyone she had ever known. He possessed a kindness, a compassion for living creatures -- both for the two- and four-legged kind -- that only made her love him more. It was inevitable that they be together always. She could feel it in her soul each time they came together in that preposterous barge bed at Gull Cottage. She believed in fate or destiny or Karma or whatever name was currently being put to that odd sense of deja vu that swept over her each time he took her in his arms.

  They belonged together. They were right together. It was as simple as that.

  The rest of the morning flew by in a blur of cardboard boxes, strapping tape and excitement. "Who would have imagined it?" she asked Paula when her sister called at the noon hour. "Just thirty days ago I was an overweight, unhappy divorcee."

  "And now?" Paula prompted, her tone skeptical. "Last I knew, you were still a divorcee."

  "But I'm happy," Diana said with a quick laugh. "And I think my divorcee days are numbered."

  There was silence from Paula's end of the line.

  "No congratulations, Paulie?"

  "I'm in shock."

  "You were the one who said I was ahead of schedule."

  "Don't you think you may be moving too fast, Di?"

  "Need I remind you of your own whirlwind courtship?" Diana countered.

  "I'm the spontaneous one, remember? You're the careful one."

  "I know what I'm doing, Paula." Gregory was the finest man she'd ever known and the thought of spending the rest of her life with him made her glow with pleasure.

  "Even though he has cancer?"

  "Had cancer. He's fine."

  "But children, Di. Are you forgetting how much you want children?"

  Why on earth had she ever confided in her sister? "Things will work out," she said, tossing a stack of magazines into a cardboard box. "I didn't say he was sterile."

  Her flighty sister was being strangely persistent. "Don't bank on miracles," Paula warned.

  "I won't," said Diana, but, of course, she was lying. She knew all about miracles. Wasn't it a miracle that Gregory had survived his bout with cancer? Wasn't it a miracle she met him?

  Was it so difficult to imagine that God had one more miracle tucked up his flowing sleeves and earmarked for them?

  #

  Miracles, unfortunately, were in short supply.

  Diana and Gregory were enjoying a moonlight take-out dinner on the deck and watching the Atlantic crashing against the shore.

  "I'm going to miss this view," Diana said with a sigh. "Look at the way the moonlight plays off the whitecaps."

  "You'll have an even better view when we set sail." Gregory poured wine into their glasses and leaned back against the deck railing. "The sky is jet black and the stars twinkle like diamonds against it."

  Her breath caught in her throat. "Are you -- are you asking me to come with you?"

  He reached over and took her hands in his. "Three months," he said. "Only the two of us and the open sea."

  "And then -- ?" Let this be real. Let it be only the beginning of something strong and true.

  "And then if you can still stand the sight of me, we'll get married."

  "I don't know what to say .I wasn't expecting this, Gregory." Wishing for it, dreaming of it, but certainly not expecting it.

  "Say the word, Diana, and we could be on our way by this time next week."

  A thrill of excitement rippled through her. "I don't know...this time next week?"

  "It's up to you."

  She hesitated. "What about Joey's birthday party? We did promise to be there -- he worships the ground you walk on, Gregory." The boy's birthday was August 14th, the day before Gregory set out for the
Caribbean, and she had assumed they would be part of the celebration.

  Gregory turned and looked out toward the ocean. "His aunts are coming out for it and both of his grandmothers. He'll never notice we're not around."

  "He'll notice. He -- "

  He leaped up then drew her to her feet and into his arms. "Say yes, Diana. What are we waiting for? What's the point to hanging around when we both know we want to take the next step? Let's get our life together started now."

  She started to laugh, a high-pitched sound that sounded almost like a giggle. "You're mad, Gregory! Are you saying we should -- "

  "Marry me." He swept her into his arms the way he had that night he carried her up the staircase to the bed on the second floor. "Let's say the words, sign the documents, tie it all up legal and nice before we get any older."

  "You are mad! I'm not going anywhere, Gregory. We have plenty of time for a big church wedding with all the trimmings after we -- "

  "We will do all of those things but we'll do them later on. This wedding will be for us."

  "We haven't known each other that long. We -- "

  He carried her through the open French doors and headed toward the legendary staircase in the center hall.

  "Last chance, Diana. Say yes or I'll be forced to take you upstairs and use unlawful persuasion to get you to marry me."

  She was laughing so hard she could barely draw a breath, much less talk. "Unlawful persuasion sounds interesting. Why don't you -- "

  Once again, the telephone interrupted them.

  They looked at each other and groaned. "Paula," said Diana, shaking her head, as Gregory put her back down on her feet.

  "That woman is uncanny." Gregory followed her into the kitchen. "There's one good reason for leaving now: she won't be able to find us at sea."

  "You don't know my sister," said Diana over her shoulder. "She'll find a shortwave radio and have us flagged down by a passing cruise ship."

  But it wasn't Paula; it was Mary Ann, and the news wasn't good.

  #

  None of it was real.

  Not the stink of fear in the hospital corridor; not the soft familiar sound of rubber-soled shoes in the halls; not the distant rumble of voices as doctors played God and determined who would live and who would die.

  Gregory saw and heard and smelled it all but none of it penetrated. Adrenaline rocketed through his body and all he could think of was flight. The wide door to the emergency room beckoned to him like Circe on the rocks and the only thing that kept him seated on the hard vinyl bench was Diana's hand gripping his. The words critical and surgery roamed the edges of his mind but the reality of it refused to sink in.

  None of this had anything to do with the Joey Marino he loved -- or with Gregory himself. What in hell was he doing there? He'd been there five years ago, watched the doctors poke and prod, heard the awful, terrifying words, felt the darkness rising up until he couldn't breathe or see or hear anything but his own fear.

  He should get up. He should walk toward that door and out of the hospital. There was nothing he could do for the boy, nothing anyone could do for the boy. It was in the hands of the doctors now -- and God.

  You're almost there, he told himself, chanting a litany to ease his pain. You're almost there. Four more weeks and you'll have it made. None of this can ever touch you again.

  He looked over at Diana, at the gentle curve of her cheek and jaw and forced himself to stay in his seat -- for now.

  She was free and he was free and the open sea was theirs for the asking. There was no way he'd wait until the middle of August.

  No way in hell.

  #

  Something was terribly wrong. Diana didn't need ESP to know that their trip to the emergency room had gotten to Gregory and when he finally grabbed her arm and said it was time to leave, she didn't argue. Mary Ann was surrounded by family and friends; she hugged Diana and Gregory and thanked them for being there, but the woman's mind was clearly on her son and so Diana felt comfortable about leaving.

  What she didn't feel comfortable about was Gregory.

  He almost vibrated with tension. His movements were faster, sharper; his grip on her hand as they crossed the parking lot to the Corvette was almost painful. Gregory was a man who'd had his fill of hospitals and she couldn't blame him for wanting to escape as quickly as possible. Besides, it wasn't as if they were walking out on Joey. The first moment he was able to see visitors, Diana intended to be there with bells on.

  "Feel like stopping for anything?" Gregory asked as he headed the 'Vette back toward East Hampton.

  Diana shook her head. "I know it's hard to believe, but I'm not hungry. If I'm ever going to get things packed into the station wagon before I leave tomorrow morning, we'd better get back to Gull Cottage."

  They drove on in silence through Quogue and past Southampton College, whizzing through Westhampton Beach until they finally passed the crystal-clear pond at the edge of the village of East Hampton. Gregory's tension filled the car, despite the way he whistled along with the radio and tapped out a counterpoint rhythm on the steering wheel. This isn't about Joey. The thought sprang full-blown into her mind and took possession. This is about us.

  He eased the sports car along the curving driveway and came to a stop beneath the shelter of the porte cochere. He cut the engine and she was certain the sudden acceleration of her heartbeat was the loudest sound for miles.

  Boris greeted them with a cheerful call of, "Identify yourself, soldier!" while Ignatius entwined himself around Diana's ankles and meowed for food. Mechanically she made her way into the kitchen and prayed she hadn't packed away every last can of seafood supper. Gregory jumped right into carrying boxes out to the station wagon, leaving Diana alone with the Abyssinian and a sense of unease that grew with each minute that passed.

  Finally she knew she would explode if she didn't confront him and she upended the cat food onto a paper plate, put it down for Iggy, then marched outside to the station wagon.

  "What's wrong?" she demanded as Gregory slid one of her suitcases into the rear compartment. "You're making me a nervous wreck. Have you changed your mind about things?"

  He brushed his hands off on the legs of his jeans and looked her right in the eye. "As a matter of fact, I have."

  "Well," she said, clearing her throat as she struggled to seem calm and collected, "I guess it's better to find that out now rather than once we're floating out there in the middle of nowhere."

  "That's not what I'm talking about."

  "It isn't?"

  "No. I'm talking about leaving for the Caribbean."

  She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until that moment. "You had me going for a moment."

  He touched her cheek. "It was unintentional."

  She thought about Joey and the uncertainty of his situation. "I'm glad you feel the same way I do. Our plans don't seem right now, do they?"

  "Not at all."

  "I was going to bring up the subject myself once we finished loading the station wagon." How could they blithely set sail for the Bahamas and points south when the boy's future dangled on a fragile thread of hope?

  "No time like the present."

  She sighed with relief. "So we're not leaving next week."

  "Not next week." His blue eyes sparkled with an almost dangerous light. "We're leaving tomorrow."

  Chapter Eighteen

  "Very funny." A bad joke, but a joke nevertheless. Diana started back toward the house. "Let's finish up the coffee before I clean up the kitchen."

  Gregory closed the rear compartment of the station wagon and caught up with her at the front door. "I wasn't kidding."

  "Of course you were," she said as they entered the front hall. "You don't just head off to the Caribbean on twelve hours' notice."

  He snapped his fingers. "Why not?"

  "Okay, joke's over, Gregory. How do you want your coffee?"

  "To go," he said, trying to make her laugh. "Same way you should have yo
urs."

  Dear God, she thought, her anxiety returning like the incoming tide. He's serious. He means every single word....

  Once in the kitchen she busied herself searching the cupboards for the coffee cups and pulled the milk container from the almost-empty refrigerator, while he watched her from the entrance.

  "What about my deadline?" she asked lightly, handing him a cup of coffee.

  "You told me you could finish up anywhere."

  "That's before I knew you were taking off August 1st."

  "Don't worry," he said, flashing that manic grin again. "We'll find you a mailbox."

  "That's not what worries me, Gregory."

  "We already know you don't get seasick."

  "Gregory, I -- "

  "We can get a head start on hurricane season."

  "Damn it, Gregory!" she exploded. "What about Joey?"

  He broke eye contact for a split second then looked back at her. "What about him?"

  "Don't," she warned, her voice low. "Don't play games, not with this."

  His expression didn't waver. "The kid's in good hands. There's nothing we can do to help him."

  "We can be there for moral support."

  His laughter was short and harsh. "Like I said, there's nothing we can do to help him."

  "He looks up to you."

  "He has his mother and his family."

  "His mother and his family haven't been through it, Gregory. You have."

  Again he looked away for a moment. "Doesn't make a hell of a lot of difference, Diana. Not when you come down to it."

  "It makes a difference to Joey. If you can get through it, so can he."

  "I'm not through it yet."

  "In four weeks or so, you will be."

  "In four weeks or so I'll be sunning on a beach in Anguilla."

  "I'm all in favor of sunning on a beach, but I don't see why we have to set sail tomorrow."

  "You're not listening, Diana. It's not up for debate. We leave in the morning."

  "Don't push me, Gregory." Her voice was low, almost defiant. "I've already given up more -- " She stopped, horrified by the words she'd almost spoken. I've already given up having children of my own with you.

  "Don't censor yourself on my account. Tell me everything you've given up for me. Tell me how tough it is to live with cancer. Go ahead, Diana. Tell me the whole damned thing."