Another Man's Child

“I’m just tired, Dad,” she said when he became too worried to keep silent about it.

“Dr. Crutchfield said to expect this,” Marcus added later as he walked Oliver to the door.

Oliver wasn’t a doctor. And after losing one daughter and a wife, he knew he tended to overreact a bit sometimes, but he’d still rest better with the reassurance of someone who would know just what she was talking about. Someone who wouldn’t sugarcoat things for him if, indeed, there was something wrong with his daughter.

He hadn’t seen Beth at all over the holidays and was certain he’d recovered from whatever middleaged foolishness had overcome him. At least that was what he told himself when he made a detour by Beth’s office on his way home from the university on Tuesday.

“Oliver! Come in!” She sounded happy to see him. He’d been half-afraid she’d show him the door.

“You busy? I can get back to you another time,” he said, noticing the huge stack of files on her desk. She looked tired, too. Maybe it was just something that was going around.

“No! No. Come on in. Have a seat. I’ve missed you these past several Fridays. Not that you have to come by or anything. It’s just that I’d gotten kind of used to seeing you.”

She was babbling. Oliver liked it. A lot.

“I’ve been pretty busy lately,” he lied, shrugging out of his overcoat. He hated lying, but even more, he couldn’t stand to hurt her with the truth. He’d been out with another woman the last Friday, a volunteer at the hospital like he was, a woman his own age. “There’s always so much to do when the new semester starts up.”

She smiled, looking relieved. “That’s all right. I probably wouldn’t have been much company, anyway. I’ve been busy, too. Last Friday I was asleep by eight o’clock.”

He could just picture her all curled up in bed. He’d bet she wore a nightie, not pajamas. “Have you seen Lisa lately?” he asked, reminding himself of the reason for his visit.

“Not in the last week or two. She’s been spending all her free time with Marcus. But I’ve spoken with her doctor. Why?”

Oliver shrugged, feeling better already. “I had dinner over there Sunday. She looked tired. Wan.”

Beth grinned. “Wouldn’t you be feeling kind of tired yourself if you were lugging around all that extra weight? She’s gained almost ten pounds.”

Oliver considered the grandbaby his daughter was going to present him with. “I guess I would,” he said. He was suddenly happier than he’d been in weeks. “And Lisa’s small-boned, too, like her mother. Though I don’t ever remember Barbara looking so sickly.”

“I’ll take a look at her, Grandpa. Would that make you feel better?”

“It would,” Oliver said, feeling deflated. Grandpa. What would a woman Beth’s age ever find of interest in an old codger like him?

And why was he even thinking such things again? He’d been cured of all that.

LISA WAS ANEMIC. Debbie Crutchfield recommended that she cut down her working hours to part-time until she was fully rested and had regained her strength.

“I think you should quit working altogether, Lis. At least until after you have your baby,” Marcus said as soon as they left the doctor’s office. He helped her into her coat, pulling it up over the sleeves of her suit jacket before he tied the belt across her expanding belly.

She was glad he was there. He’d missed one of her checkups because he hadn’t wanted to accompany her to the ultrasound that immediately followed the appointment.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Lisa said, her arm through his as he walked her back to the car. If she had to quit work, she would. She was willing to do whatever it took to have a healthy baby. She just didn?

?t know what she was going to do after the baby was born. She was almost into her seventh month. That gave her three more months. Three months to decide what would happen when she had another life to consider before her own. Would she still be able to lean on Marcus then?

He’d just said it again. Your baby. Not our baby. He couldn’t make it plainer that the baby she was carrying was hers and hers alone. And she was growing more and more afraid that was just how she was going to be raising it. Alone.

“We haven’t talked about afterward, Lis,” Marcus said later that night. They were in the den, sitting in front of a roaring fire, waiting for the eleven o’clock news.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her heart leaping. Had he read her mind? Did he know that he and her baby couldn’t live as strangers in the same house? That she might be forced to choose between the two of them?

“Your work, for one thing. Do you plan to go back after the baby’s born?”

Oh. “I guess I just assumed I would, once he’s old enough for me to leave him.”

Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “You keep saying ‘he.’ Do you know you’re having a boy?”

“No.” Lisa shook her head. What an insane conversation to be having with the father of her child. If he’d been with her during the ultrasound, he’d know. Or if he’d cared enough to ask her at any time during these many weeks since. “The baby was lying on his stomach and it was impossible to tell.”