He sat next to her, holding her, crying with her. . . . .again.
Finally, Abby spoke. "I'm sorry, not much of a homecoming."
"Don't be sorry. I'm not."
She turned her head to look at him.
"I can't be sorry, Abby. I mean I'm sorry it hurts you, but I don't think you can know what it means to me . . .. that you. .. .would want . . …. a baby . .. again . . ..with me, if it were possible."
She studied him. "I …. .I haven't . ..I'm not sure . . .. but if . … ..I wanted?"
"Yes."
She smiled at him. "Are you so sure you know what I was going to say?"
"Yes. If you change your mind about another way, would I want it?"
"You would? You're sure? How . ….after . .. .everything . …?"
"I don't know. Being away, I knew . . .I know what we have . .what I have with you. . how much we have. I never . .. . .I've never felt . … ..like this . … for someone . . . ..with someone . . … . You know that don't you?"
She looked at him. Did she? Did she know it? She took it in . . .what it meant. She nodded.
"I'd like to have children in my life . .. .somehow, but I don't need us to have a baby in our lives to be happy. Darfur . .. ..reminded me .. . .I saw . . .I don't know . … people there . . .Abby, people have lost everything . .. children . . homes . .whole families . …. ..they're sick . . .they don't always have enough to eat . . or drink . .. .or …. still … .still some of them have … .hope . . . . and they find a way to go on. . .to live .. .to really live. Others it's like they're already dead . . .they've given up. I'd rather live with hope. I can't think of anything more hopeful than bringing a child into our lives, but only, only, if you want it, Abby. I don't need you to do it for me. You shouldn't. It wouldn't be right. You know that."
"I know." She sighed, taking his hand. "That's the hard part. It's not something I can just do .. . . . for you . . … because I love you. It wouldn't be fair to any of us."
"No, it wouldn't. I don't need you to do it for me, Abby, but if it's something you want . .. . .I'll want it with you. You don't have to decide today."
She studied his face. "I missed you."
"I missed you too." He gave her a kiss. "Now, about that hot food and hot shower?"
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He was exhausted. The bed felt good. She felt better. He absently stroked her arm as his eyes grew heavy. Then he felt her move. She shifted from him, sat up. He could see her profile in the moonlight. She was pensive. God she's beautiful. He wondered if he'd ever stop being so hungry for her, not just physically, but in every way. Luka ran the back of his hand down her back.
"Abby?"
"I just . . I hate . .I can't give you what you want."
"Abby . . . … " He sat up, moved close behind her, trailed his hand down her arm. "I can't lie to you. I want it . . I want another child with you, but. . . I don't need it to be happy. I've been thinking, I'll volunteer, be a Big Brother or something." He took her face in his hand, shifted so they were eye to eye. "I don't need it, Abby. I need you."
She pressed her face into his and covered his hand with her own.
"I need you too."
"If you do this for the wrong reasons, neither of us will be happy."
Abby nodded. "How will I know?"
Luka shrugged. "You'll know. If it's right you'll know, and if not, then we have each other."
"It's enough?""More than enough."
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She didn't decide, didn't know, that day or the next or the next or the one after that either. Part of her wanted it, and part of her was afraid. What if she didn't love the baby the way she should? What if it just reminded her of Josef? What if? What if? What if?
If she thought about it once, she thought about it a thousand times. That night was no different, except it was. The next day would have been his first birthday. Josef would have been one.
"What do you want to do tomorrow?" Luka had asked her earlier that evening.
"I don't know. Maybe we should to the cemetery. It's been a while."
He nodded.
Dinner had been quiet. He was sleeping now. She looked over at him, hair tousled, face relaxed. He looked so young. Why aren't you afraid of another baby?
Because he has hope. Do I?
Another baby, someone else's baby, or their own inside someone else. Why did that give her the shivers. Another woman with her baby . . his baby . . inside her. Then it would look like him or her or both of them. Then it might be bipolar. Then it might have his smile. Then it might want to drink. Adoption? A baby who needed parents? Parents who needed a baby? What if the mother changed her mind? What if something went wrong at the birth? What if? What if? What if?Finally, she fell asleep. She woke before dawn. She could swear someone had called her name, but Luka was still soundly sleeping. His birthday. It was his birthday. She went into the nursery. It was empty but for the loveseat. The walls were still decorated, but nothing else remained.
She could see Luka bent over the crib, hear him cursing it in Croatian. "I love . .. .this . .. . all of this." She'd chickened out. She'd meant to tell him that morning that she loved him, and found she couldn't, not really. She could almost feel his head on her belly. "You're right, let's get married."
Well, they'd done that. He was right about that. He was right about a lot of things. She sighed. He'd gone to Africa to honor Josef. The day had come, and she still had no idea what she would do to for her son, to give meaning to his all too brief life. Then she heard it.
"Be a mother."
It was as loud and clear as if someone had spoken the words. It came again.
"Be a mother."
It was like being in Coburn's waiting room on that cold January day. She had been so afraid, and then they'd called her name. The minute she heard it she knew she couldn't do it . …….. or that she could do it. She could have their baby. She could be a mother. They could do it. … . .together. She couldn't do it for him, but she could do it with him.
She felt the tears well up in her eyes.
"Abby?" Luka stood in the doorway. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. He walked over and sat next to her and took her hand between his own.
She looked at him, but still she couldn't speak.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, concerned.
"I want to do it."
"What?"
"We should . .. . we should have a baby. . . .some way. We should be parents."
He looked at her for a long moment. Her eyes were wet, but there was no doubt. She was sure. She knew.
He swallowed hard and put his head in her lap, wrapping his arms around her.
She stroked his hair and smiled. There really was nothing but risk.
Risk and hope.