Chapter 10


Mike picked a tiny Chinese restaurant in Chinatown near Canal Street for their first date. It looked like a hole in the wall, but the food was delicate and exquisite. He had been there before, so he knew what to order. April was fascinated by the combinations they served. They did some wonderful things with shark and lobster. He had ordered Peking duck when he made the reservation, and it was cooked to perfection. They had fragrant paper-wrapped chicken, shark’s fin sauté, and some vegetable dishes that they both tried to analyze and guess what spices had been used. There was a meat dish she wanted to figure out for her restaurant, but the owner just laughed at her when she inquired about it.

“They’re not going to tell you their secrets,” Mike said with a grin. He was glad that she had liked the food so much.

“Tell the truth,” she said to him over delicate green tea ice cream. “Isn’t this more fun than reporting from war zones?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, “but only when the food is this good. You don’t know how many bad meals I eat, while writing reviews. A lot of chefs have no imagination, and their food is just no good.”

“Is that what you thought when you gave me the bad review?” she asked with a wistful look. He was still embarrassed about it, and hoped to make it up to her one day.

“No, I thought the food was terrific, but I thought you weren’t trying hard enough with the menu. You made a convert of me with the pancakes on Christmas Eve, and even before that. I dream about your mashed potatoes now, and I even love your mac and cheese.” She had made him try a mouthful of both on Christmas Eve.

“I have to admit, they’re not as good as this. I’ve always wanted to go to China, and take a serious class on how to do their food.” There were so many things she still wanted to do. But her life was about to become infinitely more complicated in June. She wasn’t going to be traveling anywhere anytime soon.

They were leaving the restaurant when she cautiously asked him a question, wondering even before she said it if it was a mistake.

“I’m going to the doctor tomorrow for my four-month visit. Any chance you want to come see it on the sonogram or listen to the heartbeat? My feelings won’t be hurt if you don’t want to, I just thought I’d ask, if it’s something you want to do.” They both knew he didn’t, but she asked him so nicely that he suddenly thought he should. He felt as though it weren’t his baby, only hers. He had no relation to it. It was still hard for him to believe that it even existed. It was hers but not yet his, and maybe it never would be. He could see now just the slightest roundness of her stomach. But the baggy sweaters she wore when she wasn’t working, and her chef’s jacket and apron at the restaurant, hid it most of the time. But he knew it was there, just waiting to destroy his life forever.

“Sure. Maybe. What time are you going?” he asked vaguely, looking uncomfortable as he said it.

“Four o’clock.” She told him where the doctor’s office was, and he nodded. He could do that, he told himself, it was no big deal. How much damage could one visit do?

“I can meet you there,” he confirmed, and she looked up at him with a gentle smile that made his heart ache, and he didn’t know how to tell her that he was afraid of what he’d see and how real it would make the baby seem to him after that. What if the baby turned out to be like him, whom his parents had blamed for everything, or his brother, who couldn’t face their constant fights and accusations, and killed himself at fifteen instead? Things like that didn’t show on a sonogram and were more devastating than deformities or anomalies. And if he let this child into his life, and her with it, would they break his heart, or find him inadequate later? He couldn’t take the chance. With a family like hers, she had no concept of the kind of childhood he’d had. And what if he was as bad as his own parents? That would be even worse. What if bad parenting was hereditary, locked somewhere in his genes? She had three solid role models to draw from, and Mike knew he had none.

He took her back to her apartment over the restaurant, and remembered all too easily what had happened there four months before. There were moments like tonight when he was tempted to reach out to her again, and do it right this time, because he cared about her and respected her, not because of the wine. But he thought it was too late for a fresh start. His baby was already growing in her belly. He had done enough damage. They had both made a terrible mistake. He didn’t want to make another one by starting with her all over again. He kissed her on the forehead, and left her on the stairs to her apartment. He seemed overwhelmed with sadness when he left. She wondered if he’d actually show up at the doctor’s appointment the next day. But at least now they were slowly becoming friends. She had thoroughly enjoyed her evening with him.

She saw Ellen for acupuncture the next morning, who commented that the baby was turning into a good-sized bump. Neither of them could guess what sex it was, although Ellen said she might be able to tell from her pulses later on. April said she hoped it was going to be a girl. If she was going to be alone with it, a girl would be easier for her. Mike had stated no preference, since he didn’t want the baby at all.

They had a full house at the restaurant that day for lunch, and a problem with one of their refrigerators, which had almost made her late. The repairman was just walking in when she left. She got to the doctor’s five minutes after four, and Mike wasn’t there. She was almost certain he wouldn’t come. They were just weighing her, when she heard someone asking for her at the desk. It was Mike. She came out to the waiting room to meet him with a smile. She had gained ten pounds in the last four months. She was allowed to gain twenty-five in the next five. She was going to start gaining real weight from now on.

Mike looked pained as they sat in the waiting room with other women with enormous pregnant bellies. By the time they went in to see the doctor, he looked pale and as though he were about to bolt. April introduced him to her doctor, who was pleasant and easygoing, and she agreed to do a quick sonogram so Mike could see the baby for himself. April hadn’t felt it move yet, although the doctor explained that she would in the next few weeks. But Mike had never put a hand on her stomach, and April doubted he ever would again. She told herself that he was there not so much as the baby’s father, but as an interested friend.

The doctor left April and Mike with the technician, and after emptying her bladder, April came back into the room wearing a cotton gown. She got onto the table so they could put the gel on her, and she saw that Mike looked away. Nothing was exposed except her long legs and her gently rounded belly, and then once the machine was on, the technician rolled the wand around on her abdomen, and the baby appeared on the screen. Mike was staring at it with total fascination. It looked like a baby, was curled up, but you could see its head, its back, its arms and legs, its hands and feet. And the rhythmic thump of the heart beating was equally clear. They could hear it through the microphone. He looked at April with amazement, then went back to staring at the screen. She was smiling at him, feeling the wand move around her belly in the cold gel, so he could see the child that was growing in her. The baby they had conceived together as an accident had never seemed more real, not only to her, but now to him.

Mike didn’t say a word as this time the technician handed him the picture to take home with him. He didn’t ask any questions, he just stared at it as April followed him out of the room. She was glad he had come with her, and somehow she was hoping he would be less angry and frightened about it.

He followed April into the exam room, dropped the photograph from the sonogram into the wastebasket, and looked from April to the doctor. April thought that he looked sick, and there was a thin film of perspiration on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, looking at April, “I can’t do this. I just can’t. This is a terrible mistake.” And then without another word, he left the room. April followed him. He had already crossed the waiting room with long strides, and the door closed as she stood there in the gown, and she then ran back into the exam room and burst into tears. She apologized profusely to the doctor, who reassured her that these things happened. Some men were too shaken up by the responsibility facing them to easily embrace the idea. But April knew it was more than that. It was raw terror, and an absolute refusal to have anything to do with this baby. He just couldn’t, and she had the sudden feeling that she would never see him again.

The doctor examined her quickly so she could leave. She told April that everything was fine. Ten minutes later April was crying as she walked down the street. She took a cab back to the restaurant, and she was still crying when Mike texted her. She knew that taking him to the doctor had been a huge mistake. His text to her said, “I’m sorry. I just can’t.” He wanted to tell her she should never have decided to keep it, but there was no point saying that again. It was too late to change that now, and she wouldn’t anyway. She didn’t when she had the chance. He felt totally betrayed by her and this hideous quirk of fate. And April had the overwhelming sensation that he would disappear this time for good.

She went back to the restaurant looking shaken and depressed, and more frightened than she’d ever been. It was clear that Mike wanted no part of this. She hadn’t counted on him in the beginning, but the worst part now was that she realized she was falling in love with him, maybe in part because of the baby, but also because she really liked him. Losing him now suddenly really mattered. And she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

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