Chapter 8

 

Exhausted, Whitney opened the door from the garage to the condo and dragged herself inside, with Connor behind her. Her doctor had agreed to see her at 6:00 p.m.

After kicking off her boots and hanging up her outerwear in the little mud room, she stepped into the kitchen. “I need a nap,” she said to Connor.

“Go ahead. You’ve had quite a day.”

“Not so fast.”

Whitney startled. Max sat in the breakfast nook. Why hadn’t she seen his car? A cup of coffee sat in front of him. Next to it was…the EPT box. Oh, shit! This situation kept getting worse. So she took the offensive. “What are you doing here, Max? I told you I didn’t want to see you today.”

“I came to talk.” He held up the box. “I didn’t know we had so much to discuss.”

Connor approached her from behind and put his hands on her shoulders. “She didn’t know, either, until a few hours ago.”

Whitney added, “That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

He stood. But didn’t step closer. “I came here to tell you I love you. I can’t live without you.

She nodded to the EPT box. “How convenient.”

“It’s true. I made a mistake by ending our relationship.” When she didn’t say more, he went on. “I thought I was making the right decision about Angela and my future. I hadn’t counted on the chasm inside me as soon as you said you didn’t want to be part of my life. I’m sick about all this.”

“I’m not naïve, Max.” This time she gestured to the test kit. “You could have decided all this after you found out about my condition.”

He fished in his pocket. “Here’s my phone. Call my father. Ask him what I decided a few hours ago.”

“You talked to John about us again?”

“I could barely function today, Whitney. I went to see him. He put me to bed for a few hours, so know that I made this decision sanely. He asked me what I truly wanted. I said you. I admitted I made the wrong decision.”

Could she believe him? Could she believe he hadn’t made up this story only when he discovered she was pregnant?

“I can see the doubt on your face. I promise you on all we’ve meant together, that I decided to ask you for a second chance before I came here and found this.” He picked up the little stick.

Her gaze turned dark.

“But if you don’t believe me, call Dad. I also broke it off with Angela earlier, but I’m hoping you won’t phone her. She was very upset.”

“I would never call her. You know that. And you and your dad could have concocted this story after you found out I was…”

“Pregnant.”

She took in a deep breath. “Connor, can you give us some privacy?”

“Of course. I’ll be in the spare room, if you need me.” When he passed Max, her cousin squeezed his arm. The gesture of comfort was a generous one.

When they were alone, she dropped down into a chair. He sat adjacent to her and took her hand. She let him.

“Max, even if I believe all this—because I find it hard to believe you’d lie to me so badly—it doesn’t change the dynamics of our situation.”

“It could.”

“No, I have an appointment at six.”

She felt the slight stiffening of his body. “Where?”

Pulling her hand back, she faced him squarely. “With my gynecologist.”

His beautiful blue eyes clouded. He couldn’t help the telltale signs of disappointment. “What have you decided?”

“Nothing. I’m so conflicted I can barely tolerate myself. I’m going to see what my choices are.”

“We don’t know when this happened, but you couldn’t be past the time…” He didn’t finish, probably couldn’t.

“We don’t think so, either, but he says we should see what we’re dealing with.” That it could have a heartbeat, fingers and toes, but she didn’t relate those details that had wended their way inside her.

“Can I come with you to the appointment?”

“No, definitely not.”

“If after talking with her, you wouldn’t have anything…done today, would you?”

“No, not until it sinks in. Until I can get my head straight.”

“I see.”

“Could you accept it if I do?”

“I’m not sure, Whitney. I was going to tell you that it didn’t matter if you wouldn’t have a child. But now that you’re pregnant, this alternative is another thing.”

“I know it is, Max. For me, too.”

“Then I’ll hold on to that. And trust you. Let’s just give ourselves some time.”

Whitney deflated. “That’s best in any case.”

“I’ll be waiting here. Come right back and we can talk more.”

“Okay.” She took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “For what it’s worth, I would have accepted your change of heart. Believed you really did make a mistake. I love you, too, and would have given us another chance to work through these issues.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“It’s not fair,” she said.

“I know.” Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “It’s not fair, love.”

o0o

Max left a note that he was going for a run. Whitney had slept most of the afternoon, and Connor had gotten a call and went out. At six, they left for the doctor’s appointment, and he couldn’t sit in the dark and wonder what was happening. He started out slow, taking to the streets carefully as they were slippery.

His mind whirled. What would happen between them? He’d made a terrible mistake and attempted to rectify it. Then he found out she was pregnant. He raised his eyes to the heavens. What the hell are you thinking up there?

No answer, of course. Or was there? Up ahead, people were walking into a church. A big stone building with peaks up into the sky. When he reached the front, he saw the sign. Mother of Sorrows Church. Silent Prayer Time 6:00 p.m.

He wasn’t a praying man. Law enforcement had driven faith out of him. But his dad was. And Max had accompanied him to church occasionally. Plus, he had to admit that there were times in the field that he’d prayed to God fervently. There are no atheists in foxholes. Whoever had said that was right.

What the hell. He walked up the steps, went inside and found a big sanctuary with a decent number of people in attendance. There was a lot of pain in the world. He slid into a back pew off to the side, eased down onto the kneelers and stared at the altar. His dad always told him praying was merely talking to God. So he talked.

I need help. I don’t know how to handle this. If Whitney decides to have an abortion, I’m not sure I can accept it. Can I be with her after she…could I even think this…after she kills my child? I don’t know.

Apparently, God was present tonight and listening. Because Max had another epiphany. He admitted he couldn’t watch Whitney suffer for nine months, and then after she had the child. He remembered something she said to him once: I feel so bad, so selfish, thinking this way. But I’m concerned about the child, too. Because I can’t handle what happened to me, how could she if something similar happens? Besides, we’re Secret Service agents, and the likelihood of us getting hurt is high. We jump in front of bullets for a living, babe. Would we have to give up our jobs?

That stopped his thought process. But only for a moment, because he knew in his heart, he could do the latter. No, not leave the agency. But give up protection and undercover. It was a no-brainer for him. But could Whitney ever do that? She’d said no at one time, but things had changed now. He knew she’d changed.

Another thought came: he wondered if he could be a single father, like his dad. But that wouldn’t really solve the problem of making her suffer for nine months with worry and even afterward, even if she never saw the child.

Should I tell her anyway, God? Should I make the case for having the child? Would that be fair to her? As well as I know her, I only have an inkling of the terror she must feel. And the terror that would haunt her forever.

He sat back into the pew and felt the warmth of the sanctuary envelope him. Closing his eyes, he let the scent of incense and candle wax surround him. His thoughts were swirling, but maybe God, He or She, could help him find some answers.

o0o

“From the examination, I’d say you’re about ten weeks into the pregnancy.” Dr. Kline spoke clinically. There’d been no rejoicing at the positive blood test she’d been given. Carol Kline knew Whitney’s situation.

“So it has fingers and toes. And a heartbeat.”

“Not necessarily. The only way to know that latter is to listen for it. Do you want to do that?”

“Yes. I should know what I’m dealing with.”

Carol nodded. “Whatever you decide.”

“Could you get my cousin Connor for this? He’s in the waiting room.”

Carol turned to the nurse. “Would you get Connor… What’s his last name?”

“Marino.”

After Connor came into the room, he raised his brows at Whitney. “Well?”

“I’m pregnant. About ten weeks. I want to know if there’s a heartbeat, though.”

He nodded.

“This is going to be cold.” The doctor squirted gel on Whitney’s tummy. It was completely flat. Carol circled the tip of the small rectangular probe on her belly.

Whitney closed her eyes. Thump-thump-thump. Oh, my God, it was so real. So concrete. She shouldn’t have listened.

After the doctor finished, she said, “When you’re ready, the nurse will show you to my office. We’ll discuss options then.”

Carol left and Whitney raised her gaze to Connor. There were tears in his eyes. Of all of them, he was the most sensitive.

He kissed her head. “This is hard.”

“Excruciating.” She waited.

“It had a heartbeat honey.”

“I know.”

Minutes later, they were in the doctor’s office, seated in front of a desk, staring at the display of degrees Carol had earned. Off to each side were baby pictures and Whitney saw a host of tiny faces stare out at her. Her stomach cramped.

Carol sat in her chair. “Do you know what you want to do, Whitney?”

“No. But I need to hear my options.”

“If you choose an abortion, I recommend we do it before sixteen weeks.”

Whitney bit her lip. “I don’t know exactly how to make this decision,” she said, her voice weak.

Carol picked up some pamphlets from the desk. “These are brochures from two support groups. One is for women who’ve chosen to have the procedure. The other is for those who had some of your concerns, but in the end, chose to bring the fetus to term.”

When Whitney didn’t react, Connor took them from Carol. “You could go to both. I’m sure they would be helpful. And I attended one of each before I could recommend them.”

“If I choose not to have it, could you fill me in on the procedure?”

“Before sixteen weeks, aspiration is performed. It’s also referred to as suction aspiration or curettage. You’ll have pain and possibly sedation. At ten weeks, the procedure takes place in a clinic and will be like a gynecological exam, with you lying on your back, feet in stirrups. You’ll have a local anesthetic on your cervix, which will be spread by an instrument. When that’s done, a long plastic tube with suction on the end will be inserted into your vagina. The procedure takes ten to fifteen minutes, but you’d be asked to remain in the recovery area for a couple of hours to make sure you’re all right.”

Whitney shivered. The procedure sounded brutal.

“Tell her the side effects,” Connor requested.

“Not many. Cramps and bleeding. Some women experience nausea and sweating.”

“That’s enough information for me to make a decision,” Whitney told her. “But I won’t wait sixteen weeks. I’ll make a decision a lot sooner.”

“Take your time, Whitney. Either way is irrevocable.”

“I know.”

“For the record, you’d still be able to have other children, if you choose. Your examination shows most of the endometriosis is gone. Sometimes, that happens in pregnancy.”

Another silent nod.

Connor kept his arm around Whitney all the way to the car. Spitting sleet razored down on them. She was glad to get inside the car.

“Do you want to talk?” Connor asked.

“No, I want to see Max.”

“Okay.” He put his hand on her knee and kept it there all the way back to her condo.

o0o

Max felt better after his run and visiting the church. A calmness had come over him during what might have passed for prayer. When he got back to Whitney’s condo, he showered and changed into jeans and a Cornell sweatshirt and heavy socks he found in the drawer full of his stuff.

On a whim, he started a fire. It took the chill out of the room if not his heart. He couldn’t stop the feeling that his whole life would be determined as soon as she walked through the door.

Which wasn’t long. As he stared into the red and orange flames and sipped some merlot, he heard the garage door go up, the door to the kitchen open and close. They came into the room. Connor hadn’t taken off his coat, but Whitney had.

Connor said, “I’m going out to dinner.”

Her face blanked, then she turned to him. “Oh, God, Connor, we never talked more about Calla. Are you meeting her?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Standing behind the couch, he put a hand on Max’s shoulder. “You two need some alone time. We can catch up later. Besides, nothing about my situation is clear to me yet.”

As soon as he left, Whitney shocked Max by circling the couch, dropping down and cuddling in next to him. He slid his arms around her and held her close. She stayed where she was for a long time, but eventually pulled back. “What a day.”

“You can cry about this, love. Getting some of the emotion out might help.”

“I’m good for now.” She took his hand. “Being close to you helps.”

“I’m here. Always.”

“It’s ten weeks,” Whitney said. How like her to confront things right away.

“So we conceived around the end of October.”

“Yeah. I wonder which time.”

“Huh.”

“In any case,” she said “I have until sixteen weeks to have the simplest procedure.”

He didn’t think he could handle six weeks of this limbo. But he tried not to react. “Okay.”

“I can’t wait that long. I can’t do that to you or me.”

“I’d rather you thought this through.”

“I will, I promise.”

She laid her head on his shoulder.

“Will you let me see you during this time?” he asked hesitantly.

“You’d stay with me while I decide?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I want that. And to know what you’re thinking now.”

“Things are pretty simple for me. I want the baby.” She winced. She’d been calling the child it and hadn’t used the word baby. “I’d be willing to change any circumstances in my—our—lives, if you go on with the pregnancy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Leaving protection and undercover work. There are safe jobs in threat assessment. And you know we’ve enjoyed the work there.”

“I hadn’t even thought of changes in my job.”

“But, sweetheart, I don’t want you living the rest of your life in fear, either, so I’ll understand if you can’t have the child.”

She still wasn’t looking at him, which was okay. After a while, she asked, “Would you leave me if had the procedure?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure what I’d do. I’m not sure our relationship could ever be the same.”

“Then my choice is you or my nightmares.”

He kissed the top of her head. “No, there are more options. You could go to counseling.”

“I’ve been to counseling.”

“You could try it again.”

“The process was excruciating.”

“Isn’t what you’re going through just as painful?”

“I guess.”

“Or we could go together. To figure how to handle a pregnancy together.” He took in a deep breath. “On the other hand, if you have an abortion, we could get some help to figure out if we could be together after that.”

She drew back. “It’s a lot to think about.”

He nodded.

“I’m exhausted.” She waited. “Would you stay with me tonight? We can order dinner in. Watch some movies. We won’t talk about this.”

“I’ll stay with you every night, if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t think I can make love, though. With this between us.”

He didn’t know whether she meant what was between them physically or emotionally. But it didn’t matter. She was letting him back into her life, if only for a little while. That was enough for now.