She was just about to set aside the last box when she saw a hint of red at the bottom below a stack of yearbooks. She didn’t remember any of them being red. His school colors had been green and gold, the fighting Irish. She pulled the books out and set them aside. The only thing remaining was a thin red binder, warped from the pressure of being under the heavy books.
She readjusted on the bed, tossing her pillow behind her back. On second thought she grabbed Mark’s and tucked it under her knees as well. She was pregnant after all. The thought made her smile as she settled in again. The vinyl folder cracked when she opened it. She’d bet it hadn’t been opened in years, and her curiosity intensified.
The first pages were medical records with her old Chicago hospital’s letterhead. She flipped back to the first page, looked at the date, and frowned. Don’s name was on it, but it detailed a surgery prep. She’d already found the record of his knee, so she looked closer.
The bill was mostly written in insurance code. Familiar words stood out occasionally, but it took a few more pages before she got to the itinerary. She stopped cold.
Vasectomy.
Ben looked at the date and the cold turned to ice. Two months before they’d married, so days after Don proposed, he’d had the surgery done. The paperwork was all there in black and white, his signature across the bottom giving his informed consent.
Any magnanimous feelings she’d entertained about him evaporated. He’d lied about everything. When she’d spent nights sobbing, he’d comforted her with promises he couldn’t keep. There was no way they could have had a baby the natural or artificial way.
She looked through water-filled eyes and saw he’d declined to have any of his semen frozen. He’d never planned to have children with her.
The revelations only continued as she dug deeper. She’d thought the binder hadn’t been opened in years, but that wasn’t true. There were five letters at the back of the binder. She rubbed her cheek on her shoulder and pulled them out. They were crinkled, like he’d shoved them in as an afterthought. She didn’t want to read them but with shaking hands she carefully straightened them.
The letterhead was from a different facility, and she let out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure she could handle reading anything more about his vasectomy. Every time she came across the word her heart ached with the memory of all the failed treatments and lies.
The relief was short lived, however, when she read the sender’s name. The letters were correspondence from her fertility doctor. Each was worse than the last, detailing the negative side effects of her treatments. They’d been side effects she’d been willing to risk at the time if it meant having a baby. According to the letters, the doctor had known there was no chance, and he’d tried to convince Don not to sanction the treatments.
Weight gain, hormonal imbalance, cancer. The list of possible problems needed an entire sheet of paper. Yet, the month before Don’s murder, they’d been in Dr. Miller’s office for more treatments. It was worse than she’d ever imagined, and with one last, sickening thought she yelled for Mark.
* * * *
“Hell.” Mark swore when he found Ben sitting on their bed, even more pale than she’d been in the car. “I shouldn’t have let you do this, not today.”
“I should have gone through them before we got married. Did I even know the man I was married to for six years, Mark? Where the hell was I when all of this lying and scheming was happening?”
“What did you find, honey?” He gently closed the door behind him and sat beside her, trying to be calm because she wasn’t.
“He had a vasectomy.” Disbelief and pain filled her voice as tears gathered in her eyes. “We talked about kids, Mark. He said he wanted them. The whole time we were trying–I was trying, I guess–he was so supportive. He’d come home with lists of baby names, giving me hope when there was no way, no way, and he knew it. How could he do that to me?”
“I don’t know, baby.” He moved behind her back to cuddle her to him. “Did he have any close friends? Someone we might be able to call about this?”
She handed him a stack of papers. “The doctor who performed the vasectomy was the same one who did all of our fertility testing. He said the problem was all me. He lied.”
“Okay, we’ll call him first thing tomorrow when his office opens, and we’ll get some answers.” Anger wasn’t going to help, but he was pissed. The only remedy besides driving to Chicago and kicking the doctor’s ass after he dug up Don and burned him, was taking action for Ben.
“Those treatments…Mark, they hurt. They flooded my body with hormones every month. They were expensive too, tens of thousands of dollars, and they all failed. I cried for hours.” Her voice broke in a sob, the tears falling. “That–that bastard comforted me, told me he loved me anyway and we would have a baby one day. Was that a lie or was–was he going to steal one? You know what I hate?”
“What, honey?” He pressed a kiss to her hair, wishing he could hold her even closer and take her pain away.
“I had in-vitro done. It failed. Whose baby was it? I felt like such a failure. I couldn’t even make my body support an innocent little baby who was already started.”
“We’ll get our answers tomorrow. I promise,” he swore. “Easy, honey, I don’t want you to get sick again, keep breathing.”
“I feel sick.” She cried harder, despite his calming words. “I feel sick all the way to my soul. How could he hate me that much? Even after all the lies and the ugliness, I still loved him because of the way he treated me. He was always sweet, always good to me, supportive and kind and–and how can it not all be a huge, ugly lie?”
Mark held her close as she cried miserably. He couldn’t imagine such a bone-deep betrayal. Nothing in his life equipped him to commiserate, but he only held her tighter. To be on the receiving end of her love and not treat it like it was the most precious thing on Earth boggled his mind. What the hell had Don been thinking?
“I’m sorry, Mark.” She turned in his arms and returned his hug. The papers were tossed aside as she tried to crawl under his skin. “I’m so happy about our babies, and I love this world I have with you. I shouldn’t get so upset about something in the past.”
“You get upset about anything you want.” He brushed aside her hair and kissed her forehead. “I love you, and this hurts you. I’m going to help you deal with this the best I can, so you can focus on our babies.”
“You’re so good.” She sighed but it was skewed by a hiccup. “You’re too good for all of this.”
“Nope, just a man, and I’ll always help you. Now how about some dinner? I’ll bring it in here and we can figure this out.”
“No, let’s go out to the kitchen. I still want to tell the kids about the babies.” She wiped away the tears and gave him one more kiss before sitting herself up. “That was the plan, and I loved that plan.”
“You’ll still be pregnant tomorrow, sweetheart,” he pointed out, planting a hand on each of her hips to help her find her feet.
“Yeah, and I’ll most likely still be crying tomorrow too. I think you should start this pregnancy by giving me whatever I want, dear husband. Isn’t that what the doctor said?”
He was glad to see her humor returning. He should have known it couldn’t stay buried under the grief and sadness. For all the ugliness, their life was too bright for Ben not to emerge.
“You’re right, honey. What was I thinking?”
Chapter 18
Ben loved random spring days off, and the district had a few. She spent the morning in bed being pregnant while Mark drove Thomas to a baseball tournament and Kira to a science day camp. Ben lolled in her happy place, enjoying just being in their big, soft bed, surrounded by the masculine mix of Mark’s cologne and fabric softener that clung to his pillow. She loved the man, loved their life, and with the pregnancy she believed anything was possible.
How could it not be when she was married, step-mother to two great kids, doing a job she loved, with a farm fu
ll of animals and excitement to come home to at night? To top it all off, she had not one but two beautiful babies due by Halloween.
They would be peas she’d already decided, two peas in a pod, while she and Mark would be farmers. Kira would most likely be a Barbie of some kind, and Thomas probably a football player, so he could take his sister trick-or-treating and still get candy.
Only months before she wouldn’t have believed so many beautiful things were possible. Victoria, that stain on humanity, was still waiting at the sidelines, but they were doing what they could with her. Mark had already called the sheriff to get patrols started again. The security system had been updated twice and video had been added.
They were paying out their nose for their own security. It was worth it, though, because Mark had a feeling, and his feelings were important.
“Hey, Mama.”
She looked up to find the man on her mind in the flesh leaning against the door frame.
“Feeling lazy this morning?”
She opened her arms in an invitation he instantly accepted. “Yep. Pregnant women get to be lazy sometimes, you know.” With him in her arms she let out a happy sigh. “Kids okay?”
“They are. I’ve got Thomas’s coach watching for him, and I delivered Kira to Marisa Danahe.”
“She’s a type-A personality bitch.” Which met all of Ben’s requirements for a good temporary caregiver at the moment.
“She won’t let the kids out of her sight. So are we getting business done right away? I want this garbage finished so we can enjoy the day.”
“Okay. Let’s just do it in here since my extension phone has more flexibility.” It was a concession he’d made when the security team suggested it. “Speaker phone.”
“Fine.” He eyed the phone like he did most electronics, with distrust.
He did fine on his computer, on programs he was familiar with, but Ben knew he preferred his old corded phone and she loved him for it. She found Dr. Miller’s phone number and called, setting the phone to speaker through the nurse’s greeting and the hold music. She hummed and winked at Mark, holding his hand as they waited.
Her tension tried to build as each minute passed. With Mark beside her, one hand in hers, the other rubbing her stomach, she was able to stay relatively relaxed.
“Mrs. Wiggert. It’s nice to hear from you,” Dr. Miller greeted. “What can I help you with today?”
“My name is actually Dougstat now, Doctor Miller.” Before all the revelations she’d had a good relationship with her doctor, but things had changed. “I remarried.”
“Oh, I see.” His less than jovial response spoke volumes to Ben, and she gripped Mark’s hand harder. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Dougstat?”
“I’ve been looking into Donald’s files. He kept extensive ones, you know.” On the other end the doctor started cursing profanely, but she continued, “Do you think you’ll be able to clear a few things up?”
“You aren’t getting more than a hundred thousand from me,” Dr. Miller said flatly. “I’ve already eaten the costs from your treatments and the in-vitro. I’m not letting you take anymore from me.”
“Why were you treating me for problems I didn’t have?”
“I had gambling debts.” Dr. Miller sounded weary. “A lot of them, and somehow that asshole bought them from my bookie. It was unethical, but Don did things to people who didn’t pay. A hundred grand. That’s all you’re getting from me.”
“Having better luck with the gambling these days?” Mark asked sarcastically.
“Who is that?”
“I’m Ben’s husband, and you have to know malpractice, willful malpractice cases like this one, are settled for millions.” Mark’s tone dared the doctor to argue. “What’s a Chicago judge going to say when he finds out you were scamming a young woman in regards to fertility and her health?”
“A hundred and fifty is the most I’ll offer. The treatments alone were well into the hundred thousand range with all the drugs.”
“Drugs that weren’t necessary,” Mark shot back with passion she’d rarely heard from him. “Drugs that’ll probably give her cancer in twenty years, you bastard. Who else have you done this sort of thing to?”
“No, God, no one. I’m a good doctor, but I have a family. Don would have killed me. He killed Sam Sherman for not paying him back on time. I’ve got three kids. You have to believe me. How can we settle this?”
“We’ll be in touch,” Mark said darkly.
“Good, talk to some people, get a number that is reasonable. I promise you, if I hadn’t been afraid for my life and my family’s lives I would not have done those treatments. As it is, I gave her half doses of the hormones, enough to have immediate side effects, but hopefully none long term. I didn’t want to hurt her,” he insisted.
“The in-vitro?” It was a question she didn’t want the answer to. The possibilities had kept her up most of the night before.
“It wasn’t fertilized.” He still sounded irritated, but there was some gentleness in his words. “Don did not want children, not at all. But he wanted you, so that’s why he went through this. He loved you in his twisted, psychotic way, and he wasn’t going to share you. He told me that when I asked why he was going to such extremes.”
“I see.” But she didn’t. She didn’t think she’d ever understand.
* * * *
“We’ll be in touch.” Mark didn’t wait for the doctor’s response, just pressed the red button he assumed was the off switch.
They sat in silence for a long minute, Ben looking at the phone, sorrow in her face. He knew she had been holding out for something good in her former husband, something about him that deserved her love. Don had treated her well, and it hadn’t been a lie, but it had been a manipulation. He hadn’t just wanted her love, he’d wanted control. He’d wanted an angel only for him, and he’d lied and cheated, all at Ben’s expense.
He bet Don wouldn’t like that she was hurting. Wherever he was now, if he could watch, Mark figured the other man was angry at the fallout. He might have been crazy, might have been sick, but everything Mark was finding out, showed the other man had loved Ben. It wasn’t a healthy love, but love in probably the only way Don had possessed.
“Well.” Ben carefully stacked the papers back in order. “I think I’m going to call an attorney in KC and see what I can find out. I don’t want to spend the next few years in court over this.”
“That makes sense. We’ll do whatever you want,” he promised. “Do you want me to call my lawyer and see who he recommends?”
“Sure, that would be nice. Thanks.” The words were right, but she didn’t look at him. Finally she pressed the heels of her hands to her eye sockets. “I hate this, Mark. He really was crazy, wasn’t he?”
“I think so,” he said gently. “But, honey, in his way he loved you.”
“So he cheated on me for years and lied to me about every damn thing? How is that love?”
“This isn’t your fault. I bet in his head, he justified everything he did as long as he kept you happy in the process,” Mark explained. “It sounds like he was a sociopath or at least someone who could justify anything. I don’t know what you need to hear to feel better about this, Ben.”
“I don’t know either.” She blew out a heavy, shaky breath and held her hand in a fist of frustration over the papers. “This was his one saving grace, you know?”
“Yeah, I see that. But it was Don’s failure in all this. Never yours.” Mark moved her to his lap, because he couldn’t stand even the small separation anymore. “I know how you love. You love with everything you’ve got. He was a fool for abusing that. It’s safe with me, always safe with me.”
“Oh, Mark.” She sighed and rubbed her tears on his t-shirt shoulder. “You’ve got a way with words, don’t you? You make me feel like I’m everything to you.”
“That’s the way I want you to feel.” He kissed the dark curls resting on her ear then tucked them behind the lobe like he often sa
w her do. “You’re everything to me, Ben. For the rest of my life it’s you and me. We’ve got babies to spoil, kids and teenagers to raise. There’s no one I’d rather have at my side than you.”
“I believe you.” When she pulled back her red-rimmed eyes were teary but smiling. “I do, and together we’re pretty great, aren’t we?”
“Yep.” He rubbed his nose against her red one. “Let’s get this done, honey. We’ll make some calls and settle this so it doesn’t consume our lives.”
“Not when there are so many other wonderful things to focus on right now,” she agreed, sniffling deeply. “Thanks, Mark.”
* * * *
Mark called his lawyer, who put them in touch with the best, and it only took Mark a moment to figure out the woman was a shark. She was also heavily into women’s advocacy and the numbers she quoted were astronomical. Ben hadn’t thought Dr. Miller would agree, but Susan Carmichael asked her to trust her.
It shocked him how quickly the matter was settled. Within a week of the first call, Mark and Ben had a new account at the bank in town with so many zeros at the end they both were a little nervous just to have it there.
He was still stacking hay bales, though. He didn’t see the money, no matter the amount, changing the way he lived his life, and Ben wasn’t making any changes in hers either. She was at school, had driven his car in that very morning. The money was amazing, but it wouldn’t fix the past, wouldn’t change what had happened.
He tossed another bale on the stack and took a seat, wiping his brow against the heat. Their first crop of hay had come early. It wasn’t a good one, but it had been worth the few days he spent cutting, raking and bailing. It would make the second cutting much better.
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