Toxic Bachelors (40 page)

“Who wouldn't?”

“Some don't. Poor Maggie, she got so seasick.”

“She got used to it in the end.” Carole stuck up for her new friend. She was looking forward to seeing her again, and she was sure she would. Maggie wanted to come up to the center to see what they did. She said she wanted to be an advocate for children when she graduated from law school, which was years away.

“You're a good sailor,” Charlie commented. “And a good windsurfer.” She had learned quickly, and she'd gone scuba diving with him several times, and snorkeling with Adam. They had all taken full advantage of the comforts and delights of his boat.

“I used to love sailing as a kid,” she said, looking wistful, she hated to leave him the next day. It had been so nice sharing a cabin with him, waking up with him in the morning, and cuddling up to him at night. She was going to miss that when she went home. For her, it had been one of the great advantages of conjugal life. She hated sleeping alone, and in good times had enjoyed the constant companionship of marriage. Charlie had seemed to enjoy sleeping with her too, and didn't appear to mind the intrusion in his cabin. “When are you coming back?” Carole asked, smiling at him. She thought he was staying for another week.

“I don't know,” he said, looking vague. He seemed troubled, and then glanced back at Carole. He'd been thinking about them all week. She was so perfect in so many ways, she had the right breeding, right background, she was intelligent and fun to be with, gracious, thoughtful, nice to his friends, and made him laugh. He loved making love to her, in fact there was nothing about her he didn't like, which scared him to death. The most terrifying thing about her was that there was no fatal flaw. There had always been one that he could use as an escape hatch. But not this time. He was worried that in the end, he wouldn't want to settle down. And then everyone would get hurt, they always did. He had finally met a woman he didn't want to hurt, nor did he want to be hurt by her. There seemed to be no avoiding it if you got close. He didn't know what to do about it.

“Something's bothering you,” Carole said gently, wanting to know what it was.

He hesitated for a long time and then nodded. He was always honest with her.

“I've been thinking a lot about us.” The way he said it sounded like a death knell, and she was frightened the moment she saw his face. He looked tortured.

“What about?”

He smiled through the cigar smoke again. He didn't want to worry her unduly, but he was concerned. “I keep wondering what two commitment phobics like us are doing together. Someone could get hurt.”

“Not if we're careful of each other's wounds and scars,” and she was. She knew the things that upset him now. Sometimes he just needed space. He had been alone all his life. At times she sensed that he wanted to be alone, and had left the cabin, or left him to his own devices on deck. She tried to be sensitive to his needs.

“What if I never want to get married?” he asked her honestly. He wasn't sure he did. Maybe it was too late. He was almost forty-seven, he wasn't sure he could make the adjustment anymore. After a lifetime of searching for the perfect woman, now that he seemed to have found her, he wondered if he was the right man. Maybe not. He was coming to that conclusion.

“I've been married,” she said calmly. “It wasn't so great.” She smiled sadly.

“You should have children one day.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I have children where I work. Sometimes I think that's enough. When I got divorced, I told myself I'd never get married again. I'm not pushing for marriage, Charlie. I'm happy the way things are.”

“You shouldn't be. You need more,” he said, feeling guilty. He didn't know if he was the man to give it to her, and if he wasn't, he felt he owed it to her to let her go. He had been thinking about it a lot. The great escape. One way or another, in the end, it always came to that.

“Why don't you let me decide what I need? If I have a problem, I'll tell you. For now, I don't.”

“And then what? We break each other's heart later? It's dangerous to just let things drift along.”

“What are you saying, Charlie?” Listening to him, she was scared to death. She was getting more attached to him by the hour, especially after the last week of living with him. He could easily become a habit. And what he was saying was panicking her. He sounded like he was about to bail.

“I don't know,” he said as he put his cigar out in the ashtray. “I don't know what I'm saying. Let's go to bed.” When they did, he made love to her, and they both fell asleep without discussing the matter further.

The next morning came too soon. They had to be up at six, and Charlie was asleep when she got out of bed. She took a shower, and was dressed when he woke up. He lay in bed, looking at her for a long time. For a terrible moment she had the feeling that she was seeing him for the last time. She hadn't done anything wrong on the trip, or been too clingy or too attached. She had just allowed life to take its course. But the look of fear in his eyes was unmistakable, and guilt and regret. Ominous signs.

Charlie got up to see them off. He put on shorts and a T-shirt, and stood on deck watching as they lowered the tender to take them into port. He was going to Anguilla that day, after they left. He kissed Carole before she got into the tender, and looked into her eyes. She had the feeling he was saying more to her than just good-bye. She hadn't pressed him about when he was coming home. She thought it was better not to, and she was right. She had the feeling that he was poised at the edge of a terrifying abyss.

He patted Adam on the shoulder and gave him a hug, and then he kissed Maggie on both cheeks. She apologized for getting seasick. They thanked him, and he waved as they got off.

Carole turned to watch him from the tender as it sped away. She had the terrible feeling, as he waved at them from the deck, that she'd never see him again. She put on her dark glasses as they pulled into the port so no one would see her cry.

25

L
IFE MOVED INTO HIGH GEAR FOR
A
DAM AND
M
AGGIE
when they got back. He had three new clients, his kids said they wanted to see him more often, especially now that they knew Maggie, and his father had a heart attack. Life. He was out of the hospital in a week, and his mother was on the phone to him ten times a day. Why wasn't he coming to see them more often? Didn't he care about his father? What was wrong with him? His brother was there every day. Adam pointed out in a tone of exasperation that his brother lived four blocks away.

Maggie was just as crazed. She was studying for finals, had two papers to write for her classes, and was working her ass off at Pier 92. Adam told her she needed to get a better job. But the tips were great. And for the first two weeks they were back, she had the flu.

She still had it and couldn't shake it, when she went back to work anyway. She couldn't lose any more days, or they'd fire her. She was still at work one afternoon, when Adam came home from the office, and found a note that the cleaning woman had quit. The apartment was a mess. He knew how tired Maggie was, so he decided to take out the garbage and do the dishes before she got back. He emptied the wastebasket in her bathroom into a big plastic bag, and just as he was about to tie a knot in it, something caught his eye. It was a bright blue stick. He had seen them before, but not in a while. A long while. He stopped what he was doing, gingerly fished it out, and stared at it in disbelief. He sat down on the toilet and stared at it, before throwing it back in and then tied the knot, but when he did, his face was grim. He looked like a tornado when Maggie got home. She went straight to bed, saying she felt like shit.

“I'll bet you do,” he said under his breath. He had cleaned the entire apartment, and was vacuuming when she got home.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he whizzed through the room.

“The maid quit.”

“You don't have to do that. I'll do it.”

“Really? When?” He was furious with her.

“Later. I just got home from work. For chrissake, Adam, why are you running around like a rocket ship with a burr up its ass?”

“I'm cleaning the house!” he said through clenched teeth.

“Why?” And then suddenly he turned to her with fury on his face.

“Because if I don't, I may kill someone, and I don't want it to be you.”

“What are you so pissed off at?” She had had a terrible day at work and she felt sick.

“I'm pissed at you. That's what I'm pissed at.”

“What the hell did I do? I didn't tell the maid to quit.”

“When were you going to tell me you were pregnant? Why were you saving that little piece of news? For chrissake, Maggie, I found your pregnancy test in the garbage, and it was
positive
, for God's sake!” He was out of his mind with rage. “When did that happen?”

“On Yom Kippur, I think,” she said softly. They had been careful ever since. It was the only time they hadn't been. Since then, without knowing it, they had been locking the barn door after the horse escaped, or got in, or something like that.

“Oh, great,” he said, tossing the vacuum down at his feet. “On Yom Kippur. My mother was right. I should have gone to synagogue, and I never should have called you.” He threw himself into a chair as she started to cry.

“That's mean.”

“It's meaner for you to be pregnant and not tell me. When were you going to tell me, for God's sake?”

“I just found out this morning. I didn't want you to get mad. I was going to tell you tonight.”

And then suddenly he looked at her and realized what she had said. “Yom Kippur? Are you
kidding
? Yom Kippur was in September. This is January, for chrissake. Do you mean Chanukah?” She wasn't Jewish, she obviously had her holidays mixed up.

“No, Yom Kippur. It had to be that first weekend when I came over. It was the only time we weren't careful.”

“Wonderful. Did you notice that you didn't get your period for the last three months?”

“I thought I was nervous. I've always missed it a lot. Once I didn't get it for six months.”

“Were you pregnant?”

“No. I've never been pregnant till now.” She looked devastated.

“Terrific. A first. We just don't need this headache, Maggie. And when you get an abortion, you'll be crying and whacked-out for the next six months.” He had been through it all before, too many times. He didn't want to go through it with her, or with anyone ever again. And then he looked at her darkly, with suspicion on his face. “Are you trying to trap me into marrying you? Because that's not going to work.”

She jumped off their bed then, and stood glaring at him. “I'm not trying to trap you! I never asked you to marry me, and I won't now. I got pregnant. This is your fault too, not just mine.”

“How the hell could you not know you were pregnant for three
months
?” It was unbelievable. “You can't even get an abortion at this point. Not easily anyway, it's a big deal after three months.”

“Well, then I'll deal with it. And I wasn't trying to marry you!”

“Good! Because I won't!” he shouted at her, and with that she stormed into the bathroom, and slammed the door in his face.

She was in there for two hours, and when she came out, he was in bed, watching TV, and didn't say a word to her. Neither of them had had dinner. She had thrown up when she was in the bathroom, crying on her own.

“Is that why you got sick on the boat?” he asked without looking at her.

“Maybe. I kind of wondered, and when I got sick when we got back, I thought maybe it was. That's why I did the test.”

“At least you didn't wait another six months. I want you to see a doctor,” he said, finally looking at her. She looked a mess. He could see that she'd been crying, her eyes were red, and her face was pale. “Do you have a doctor?”

“I got a name from a girl at work,” she sniffed.

“I don't want you seeing some quack. I'll get a name tomorrow.”

“And then what?” she asked, sounding scared.

“We'll see what he says.”

“What if it's too late for an abortion?”

“Then we'll talk about it. I may have to kill you in that case.” He was only kidding, he had calmed down a little, but she burst into tears again. “Come on, Maggie…please… I'm not going to kill you. But I'm upset.”

“So am I,” she said, sobbing. “It's my baby too.” He groaned then, and flopped down on the bed.

“This is not a baby, Maggie. Please. It's a pregnancy, that's all it is right now.” He didn't even want to say the word “fetus,” let alone “baby.”

“What do you think that leads to?” she said, blowing her nose in a tissue.

“I know what it leads to. That's what I'm upset about. Just get some sleep. We'll talk about it in the morning,” he said, as he clicked off the TV and turned off the light on his side of the bed. It was early, but he wanted to sleep. He needed the escape. This was the last thing he needed. This happened to his clients, not to him.

“Adam?” She spoke softly just as he closed his eyes.

“What?”

“Do you hate me?”

“Of course not. I love you. I'm just upset. This was not a good idea.”

“What wasn't?”

“Getting pregnant.”

“I know. I'm sorry. Do you want me to leave?” He looked at her then, and felt sorry for her. This was going to be hard on her too, especially after three months. He knew there were doctors who did it, but it was a much bigger deal than if you caught it right away.

“No, I don't want you to leave. I just want to deal with this, as soon as we can.” She nodded her head.

“Do you really think I'll be a mess for six months?” She sounded worried. This was scary for her too. More than for him. He hated the inconvenience, she had to deal with it, either way. It was traumatic for her.

“I hope not,” he answered her question. “Just go to sleep.”

She tossed and turned all night, and when he woke up in the morning, she was in the bathroom and he could hear her getting sick. He stood outside the bathroom door, wincing. It sounded rough.

“Shit,” he said out loud and went to shower and shave. She came out ten minutes later. He had kept his bathroom door open so he could see her when she did. She looked green. “Are you okay?”