Marriage by Contract. Sandra Steffen
Oh, we had our normal fights and tussles growing up—Gina had a screech that could make your ears ring for two days, and Andreanna could pinch hard enough to draw blood—I tell everybody that I became a doctor out of self-defense. But when push comes to shove, we’re always here for one another. We’re working-class people, and we’re proud of it. My sisters gave up a lot to help me through medical school, but no one gave up more than my mother and father. All they’ve ever wanted or expected in return is that I carry on the family name.”
Beth watched the tea seep into the clear, steaming water, her tension seeping out of her in a similar fashion. There, she told herself. See? There’s nothing to worry about. By adopting Christopher, Tony will be doing as his family wishes. In his new son, the Petrocelli name will continue.
His shirt rustled as he uncrossed his arms, his voice dropping in volume as he said, “Oh, and of course they want me to pass on the family genes.”
She felt as if a hand were closing around her throat, cutting off her oxygen. They both jumped again when his phone rang, but Beth was secretly thankful for the momentary reprieve. While he went to answer, she tried to draw a deep breath.
“I have to go,” he said, a few minutes later.
“Another mother in labor?” she asked.
He started to nod, then seemed to change his mind, drawing his eyebrows down, instead. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She nodded, but she wasn’t sure about anything, except that all the pleasure of the past few days had drained out of her.
* * *
Beth had thought her shift would never end, but it was over now, and she was on her way to the nursery. She could hear the babies crying all the way down the hall. She’d certainly spent enough time in the nursery these past two-and-a-half months to know exactly how it happened. It only took one baby’s tiny wail to set off another, and another, until there was a chorus of healthy cries and flailing fists, and one or two frantic nurses trying to calm them all.
Glancing in the window on her way by, she smiled in spite of herself. There was just something in a newborn’s cry that warmed her heart every time she heard it. She strode to the next window, her smile growing. Of the three preemies in the special nursery, two had taken up the call. Christopher was one of them.
Donning a gown, she scrubbed her hands and went to pick up the child she loved more than she thought possible. Christopher was angry, his face red, his movements jerky and stiff. Scooping him into her arms, she crooned into his ear, “There, there, what’s all the fuss about?”
A quick glance at his chart told her that he’d already been fed. That meant he either had to burp, or he just wanted to be held. She patted his back, crooning unintelligible words of comfort, her lips nuzzling his tiny head, his cheek, his adorable little ear. His cries lost their vehemence, gradually trailing away completely on a shuddering breath. Snuggling closer, he curled into her warmth.
Ah, yes, this was what he needed. It was what she needed, too.
She’d meandered from one end of her apartment to the other last night after Tony had left, thinking, praying, wishing. Her home wasn’t fancy, but it was all she needed. Although Barry had done his best to take the biggest share of their assets, she’d hired an attorney who’d made sure she held on to those that were rightfully hers. After the lawyer had taken his cut, she’d invested her winnings. As a nurse, she earned enough money to live on, and had planned to use her savings to put Christopher through college. Of course, Tony would probably insist upon helping choose the right school.
If he married her, that is.
“Of course he’ll marry me,” she whispered in Christopher’s ear. “He’s already committed to as much.”
But he doesn’t know, a voice whispered inside her head. You have to tell him.
No!
Covering Christopher’s back with the flat of her hand, she lifted her face and closed her eyes. Please. I love Christopher. Let me have him. I’ll do anything. Please.
Please.
The cry of babies was her only answer.
She continued to walk with Christopher, occasionally laying a hand on another infant who seemed to need nothing more than a human touch. Christopher didn’t seem to mind sharing her. It was as if he knew she loved him more than anybody else.
It felt right that he was secure in her love. It was one of the reasons she’d come here every day since the night he was born. There had been times when she’d been sure that her will alone had kept him alive. Oh, she loved him so. In her heart he was hers already. Was it so wrong to want him to be hers in the eyes of the law?
She deserved to be his mother.
Didn’t she?
Beth closed her eyes for a minute, because she knew better than anybody that life wasn’t always fair. Happiness had nothing to do with justice, or merit, or divine rights. Everything came down to doing one’s best. And the best thing she could do, the only thing she could do, was tell Tony the truth.
* * *
Beth had been pacing back and forth in Tony’s small office for five minutes, rehearsing what she was going to say word-for-word. The instant she heard the door open, she stopped, her eyes trained on his framed medical license on the wall.
“Connie said you wanted to see me?”
With her heart in her throat, she turned around. Tony closed the door behind him, slowly running his hand down the length of his silk tie, waiting for her to tell him why she’d come.
Her eyes had been burning from lack of sleep all day, her conscience burning with the need to tell the truth. Suddenly, she didn’t know where to begin. Clasping her hands behind her back, she raised her chin and quietly said, “There’s something I have to tell you.”
He took a step closer and held up one hand. “If you’re about to tell me that you used to be a man, you can stop right there, because I’d never believe you. My instincts couldn’t be that far off.”
His attempt at humor sent a small smile to her lips and a tiny ray of hope to her heart. He really was a good man. Perhaps what she had to say to him wouldn’t alter his decision to marry her.
“You’re right about that,” she said quietly. “But there are other things you don’t know about me.”
He walked farther into the room, casually settling his hands on his hips. “I’m listening.”
She thought she detected a flicker of longing in his dark eyes. It added to the tiny ray of hope that had started to glow inside her. “Do you remember when you asked me what I’d wish for if I could have anything in the world?”
He nodded. “You told me you want Christopher.”
“Yes. But five years ago, one year ago, even six months ago, I would have said I wanted to have a child of my own.”
She paused, studying him. His expression changed, becoming serious. Taking a deep breath for courage, she surged on. “Acceptance came slowly, Tony. One day at a time over the past seven years, to be exact.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m not saying anything very well, but what I’m trying to tell you is that I can’t have children.”
Tony took a step back, his head coming up with the shock of discovery. Beth released the breath she’d been holding, her last ray of hope extinguished by the surprise, and then the realization, that crossed his face. As one moment stretched to ten, she lowered her gaze to the grip she had on the back of his leather office chair. She’d recognized the expression deep in Tony’s eyes. Her ex-husband, Barry, had worn the same look more than a year ago when the doctor had given them the results of all the tests, all the surgeries and attempts that had failed.
“Are you sure?”
Pulling