Most Wanted

Chapter Thirty-one

“Marcus?” Christine called out, as soon as she hit the house, closing the door behind her. She’d stewed the entire car ride home since they had driven separately to the restaurant. She tossed her purse, keys, and phone on the console table, glancing around the entrance hall, but the house was quiet and felt still. She hustled into the kitchen, but Marcus wasn’t there and Lady jumped up on the kitchen island, her tail curling into a question mark.

“Marcus?” Christine headed for the sliders to the backyard. One of the doors was open, and the outside light was on over the back patio, recessed into the bottom of a pent roof. She stepped outside, and the motion-detector light went on instantly, casting a cone of bright white in the middle of the yard, where Marcus stood looking down at his phone, his features lit from below. Murphy trotted around at the back of the yard, visible only because of the glowing red disc that dangled from his collar. The night air felt cool and calm, but Christine was anything but.

“Marcus, why did you lie to your father and Stephanie?” Christine walked toward him, not bothering to check her frustration.

“Lie to them about what?” Marcus turned, lowering the phone.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, so please don’t lie to me, too.”

“You mean about why we can’t get pregnant?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. You told him it was because of my eggs.”

“What’s the difference?” Marcus shot back, and just then the motion-detector light went off, so Christine could barely see his face in the ambient light from the neighbors’ houses. There was no moon out, and the sky was black, opaque, and starless.

“The difference is that you lied.”

“So, why does it matter?” Marcus’s tone was sharp. “That’s what you told me, wasn’t it? It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. So why should it matter if they think it’s your fault and not mine?”

“Marcus, I agreed when you didn’t want to tell them anything, only because it’s your family, but lying to them is something else. You told them an outright lie, and that’s just wrong.”

“This, from the woman who lied to me about where she was the entire weekend?” Marcus slid his phone in his pocket, where it glowed. “That’s not the reason you’re mad. The real reason is that you blame me because we couldn’t have our own child. No matter what you say, you blame me because we couldn’t get pregnant.”

“I don’t blame you for that.”

“Yes you do. You know it, and I know it. And so do I. I blame myself, too.” Marcus raised his voice. “Do you have any idea what that’s like for me to sit there and listen to my father, who got his second wife pregnant by accident, when I couldn’t even get you pregnant once? Do you know what that feels like, as a man? As a husband?”

“I know, but this isn’t about you.”

“Of course it is. We wouldn’t be in this mess with Jeffcoat if I had been able to get you pregnant. You wouldn’t have a baby in you right now that has half the DNA of a serial killer. We’re not having a Nilsson baby, that’s the reason you’re pissed.”

“No, that’s the reason you’re pissed. You’re the one who has a problem with that, not me.”

“Oh, right. You’re fine with it because it’s Zachary’s baby. Your new boyfriend.”

“How dare you!” Christine’s blood boiled, and she felt suddenly exasperated with Marcus, with his jealousy, with his insecurities, and with him. “Do you know what bothers me? What bothers me is that tonight at dinner, I was sitting across from your father and Stephanie, and he’s completely supportive of her. He’s as excited about their pregnancy as she is, and they didn’t even plan it. She’s having the pregnancy that I wanted.”

“That’s exactly what I just said! You wanted a nice, normal pregnancy. You’re angry because you didn’t get one. You feel cheated because we had to use a donor.”

“No, that’s not true.” Christine finally understood her own feelings, and they were coming to a head. “I’m angry because you’re not supportive of this pregnancy.”

“I’ve been supportive. I drive you to your car. I get whatever food you want. I bring you water. I hold your hair when you throw up-”

“I’m talking about emotionally supportive. You didn’t buy in from the start, and now that you found out about Zachary-yes, I call him by his first name-now, you can’t get past it. You wanted me to have an abortion.” Christine couldn’t stop now that she’d said it aloud. “How is that supportive?”

“I don’t want that anymore-”

“Still, that’s the barest minimum. I’m talking about your being in it with me and sharing the joy with me, but also the hard parts. So we’re having a hard part. We got dealt a bad hand, but I’m the only one trying to solve it-”

“How, by running off to see Zachary? By lending him money? By making sure he has a lawyer?”

“Yes. That’s all part of it. I was just going to the source, like Gary said, and I feel connected to him. I want to help him.” Christine heard herself admit it aloud and understood something more, almost like an epiphany. “But the answer isn’t for me to ditch Zachary. The answer is for you to be part of this with me. He’s our donor, and we have to figure out what we’re going to do about that-”

“We’re going to sue the bastards!”

“That’s not all, not nearly. It’s all about taking care of this baby, because it’s on its way.” Christine understood everything with a new clarity. “Marcus, if we found out this child had cystic fibrosis, we’d be in it together. We’d be buying equipment. Medication, nebulizers. We’d be seeing the best doctors we could afford. We’d figure that out before the baby came. Why treat a physical illness but not a mental illness? This is no different.”

“Of course it is!”

“No it isn’t; and anyway, it doesn’t matter. The baby’s coming, and I’m going to be its mother. You’ve evidently decided you’re not going to be its father.”

“You think Zachary is the father. You went to see him, why?”

“To find out if he was the biological father, our donor.” Christine knew that Marcus was half-right, but she wasn’t about to admit it because she was right about the whole thing. “I wish you’d gone with me. I wish you were handling this whole thing differently. I wanted to get to know him, to learn things about him, about his family medical history, who had mental illness, who didn’t-”

“We already have more information about him than most people have before they get married. We have three generations of medical history on him.”

“That’s not the point, it’s not the same thing.” Christine thought fast. “You can have a résumé, but it’s not the same thing as meeting them. You could meet somebody online, but that’s not the same as a real date.”

“Excuse me if I don’t want to date Zachary. Excuse me if this whole thing is completely galling and mortifying and humiliating, and all you do is think about yourself!”

“No, you’re exactly wrong.” Christine felt resentment and bitterness welling up from deep within. “All I do is think about you. Since the day of your diagnosis, all I have done is worry about your feelings, your emotions, how embarrassed you were, that you felt ashamed and humiliated. I lied to my friends at school, and I didn’t even tell Lauren until I couldn’t keep a secret anymore. Everyone around you is protecting your feelings and your ego just because you have a medical condition you can’t own up to. Because you never accepted that it’s biology, not manhood. I’m sick of worrying about you. I’m officially done worrying about you. I’m tired of saving your face for you. Grow the hell up!” Christine stood her ground. “And you know what else I realized? That being a father is a decision. It doesn’t have to do with DNA or anything else. Zachary is the biological father of this child, and right now, what I’m saying is that this child doesn’t have a father-”

“I’m the father!”

“Then act like it. You have to care about this baby, and you have to take care of this baby-”

“I do care about the baby. That’s why I want to sue Homestead.”

“That’s not why you want to sue Homestead. You want to sue Homestead because you’re angry. You’re angry at them for picking Jeffcoat. You’re angry at yourself because you’re infertile. You’re angry at the world and you’re taking it out on Homestead! You don’t really care about the baby.”

“And you say you care about the baby but you really care about Zachary. You admit you have a connection with him. How am I supposed to deal with that?”

“Admit that you have a connection to him, too.” Christine was freewheeling, but it was her heart talking. “Because if this is going to be our child, and you’re going to be the father, then you do have a connection to Jeffcoat. Share it with me.”

“What are you talking about? What are you asking from me?”

“Zachary is down there, he’s in prison. He’s our donor and he could be in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. I’m not going to turn my back on him.”

“You didn’t, you got him a lawyer!”

“And I’m not going to wash my hands of him just because I did that.” Christine felt like it was finally time for her to face her feelings. “I’m worried about him. I feel bad for him. I think he’s innocent. I don’t think he committed that murder-”

“Christine, you’re being naïve. You heard what Gary said.”

“Either way, I have to find out for myself.” Christine knew what she wanted to do, and it wasn’t stay home, obsess about Zachary, and weed her garden. “I want to go back down there and see how I can help him. I want to make sure he has what he needs-”

“What? Are you serious?”

“I am asking you if you would come with me.”

“No!” Marcus snapped. “Absolutely not. I’m not going down there.”

“Marcus, please. Come with me.” Christine tried to think of an argument to persuade him. She felt a glimmer of hope that if they could go together, they could get their marriage back on track. “When this baby grows up, do you want to tell him that his biological father is behind bars, a murderer? Would our baby feel good when he finds out that his biological father was in jail for a crime he didn’t commit? And that we didn’t help him when we could? Do you know what that can do to a child? Can’t you think ahead? Can’t you get past the fact that we needed a donor?”

“Christine, enough. You’re asking too much. You’re just asking too much of me.”

“I can deal with it, why can’t you, Marcus? I can’t deny that he exists and that he’s in trouble. Come with me or not.”

“You can’t go!”

“You’re my husband, not my principal.” Christine folded her arms. “Are you coming with me or not? It’s your choice.”