Baby Business. Brenda Novak
him informed of what was going on, he thought. He’d hear the heartbeat, see the ultrasound, make sure Macy was gaining enough weight.
But doctor’s appointments were only once a month. How could he ensure she’d look after herself during the other times? He couldn’t exactly specify how often she had to eat and rest, could he? He considered inserting a clause on basic health care, wondering if she’d agree to a stipulation that she exercise half an hour every day, when Kevin cleared this throat.
Thad looked up to find his partner reading over his shoulder.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Why would I be?”
“You’re going to hand the woman a hundred thousand dollars, have her sign this contract and expect a baby in nine months?”
Thad scowled at the censure in Kevin’s voice. “Not exactly in that order. I’m going to make sure she’s pregnant first, have her sign the contract, then give her the money.”
“And after she signs it, are you going to pinkie-swear, too? What do you do if she breaks your little contract? Say she miscarries and refuses to be inseminated again. Or she changes her mind, for whatever reason, and aborts the baby. You can’t exactly sue her. Think about it. You don’t have a legal contract. Last I checked, you couldn’t ‘sell’ a baby in America. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen, but it does means any contract trying to enforce your rights won’t be worth the paper it’s written on. She’ll end up with the money, and you’ll end up with nothing.”
Thad stretched his neck, trying to relieve the tension that had built up in his shoulders. Kevin was right about the contract. Deep down, he’d known it all along. But he’d slogged through the verbiage of what he’d like to guarantee, purposely ignoring the harsher reality. Because he was going to give Macy the money. He couldn’t do anything else, would never risk her daughter’s life by demanding she perform first.
“Bottom line, the money’s your only guarantee, buddy,” Kevin continued. “You should work it out to where she gets very little until the baby is born.”
“And if she needs to pay for a bone marrow transplant for her little girl, who is lying in a hospital right now, dying of cancer?” Thad asked.
Kevin stared at him. “So that’s why she came.”
“Right again.”
His partner shook his head. “You’re screwed.”
“Not yet.”
“You are if you’re going to rely on a written contract to get what you want.”
“That might be true.” Thad massaged his temples. Another thought had flitted through his mind while he’d been working on the contract, but he’d resisted it. It returned to haunt him now. It wasn’t a guarantee exactly, but was probably the closest he was going to get.
“There is another way,” he said slowly, the idea taking more definite shape in his mind. “It comes with its own share of risks, but…”
Kevin shifted his weight. “You’re making me nervous, friend. You’re already in this thing over your head.”
“Then I’d better start swimming.” Thad gave Kevin a rueful smile and snapped off his computer. “And I think I just figured out how.”
Kevin groaned. “God, Thad, tell me it’s the backstroke.”
“Not even close.”
MACY WAS EXHAUSTED. She’d originally planned to finish out the block so she didn’t fall behind in her classes, but finals were only three weeks away and she didn’t dare take the time away from Haley to study.
Neither could she fail, not if she wanted to become a pediatrician someday.
Setting her keys on a side table in her living room, she punched the Play button on her recorder and listened to Lisa tell her, in no uncertain terms, to eat the Chinese food she’d dropped off earlier. The next call was from her mother. Where was she? Why didn’t she keep in closer touch?
Her mother knew she couldn’t afford the long-distance bills.
The last message was from Dr. Biden’s office. The lab results were in. Everything had come back normal.
Well, she wasn’t going to die of AIDS, at least.
Macy kicked off her shoes and sagged onto the couch, too tired to even consider heating up something from the refrigerator. She hoped Dr. Biden’s vitamins were as good as the doctor claimed, because she’d given her body little else in the past twenty-four hours. What she needed more than food was sleep, but she was too keyed up. They hadn’t been able to find a bone marrow donor yet, and they had to have a near-perfect match or Haley’s body would reject the new stem cells. And she’d be worse off than before.
The telephone rang, but Macy just looked at it, too tired to haul herself up to answer.
The recorder came on, and Thad’s voice carried into the room. “Macy? I haven’t heard from you for the past two days. Is everything okay? Call me when you get a chance.”
He hung up just as Macy threw a pillow at the machine and nearly knocked over the lamp. She and Thad needed to talk, but she didn’t want to talk to him tonight. She could take only so much in a single day.
Climbing to her feet, she traipsed into the bedroom and brushed her teeth before pulling on her nightgown and climbing into bed.
At least when Richard ran off, he left her with the few pieces of furniture they’d acquired during their marriage. She still had the oak dining set, the sofa and an old recliner in the living room, Haley’s white bedroom set, a pull-out couch in the den and a queen-size water bed for herself. They were all garage-sale items, but the house she was renting made up for the style and elegance its furnishings lacked. She lived in the Avenues, near the university, where the houses were all unique, old and charming. Some dated back to the 1800s. Tall, shady trees lined the streets, and a mansion that had once belonged to Brigham Young or another of the city’s founding fathers sat on almost every corner. Macy longed for the day when she could buy one of the large Victorians she liked best and remodel it to suit her tastes.
Someday, when she was a doctor and Haley was well…
For now she liked her old-fashioned little house.
The phone rang again, and Macy picked it up without thinking. “Hello?”
“There you are. You had me worried. Is Haley okay?”
Thad again. Macy bit back a sigh and cursed the brain synapse that had shot her hand out for the receiver. “She’d be better if we could find a bone marrow donor, but she’s hanging on while we look.”
“Can anyone do it?”
“It’s not like giving blood. It’s painful, and it’s difficult to find a perfect match.”
“Can I be tested?”
“Sure, but you’ll have to fill out a questionnaire. Have you had unprotected sex in the past ten years?”
“God, you love turning the tables on me, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry. I’m tired.”
“I can hear it in your voice. How’s school?”
“I missed another one of my classes today but at least I made it to pharmacology. I’m not sure I’ll remember anything about the lecture, but I took enough notes to give my hand a permanent cramp.” She stretched her right fingers, remembering her frenetic pace.
“What about the class you missed?”
“I bummed the notes off a fellow student.”
“That’s good.”
“It’s better than nothing. Finals are coming up.”
“I