5

Designed Intent

Chapter 67

Thursday Evening

"Hi, Mom."

Mrs. Goren sat in her chair, dozing, wearing a nightgown and robe. She roused at the sound of her son's voice. "Huh? Oh, Bobby, Gleason! Bobby, pull over some chairs."

"How are you feeling, Mrs. Goren? Dr. Shinto called and said you had a fever."

"Oh, I'm fine, fine. There, sit, both of you." Bobby crossed to his mother and gave her a peck on the cheek. "I am just so tired all the time. Bobby, did you tell them to change my pills? I think my pills are different. I had pep before, now I feel like a slug. Did you tell them to change my pills?"

"No, Mom, Dr. Shinto changed one. Maybe that's why you are tired."

"I don't know," Frances said softly, sadly and looked at her hands in her lap.

Bobby watched her and worried. Gleason watched her and wondered about Christian.

Suddenly, Frances looked up and said, "How have you two been? You'll be going back to Chicago soon, won't you Dear?"

Gleason nodded and said, "Yes, I'll go back on Thursday, the 29th." She took Bobby's hand and gave it a squeeze.

He glanced at her and settled back into his chair. "Uh, Mom, Gleason and I have something to tell you."

Frances looked from her son to Gleason and then back. Her gaze slid back to Gleason and said, "You are pregnant, aren't you? I knew it! I knew it!" She slapped the top of the chair arm. "Didn't I say you were pregnant? You are going to make my little Christian a real grandson."

"No, no Mom, that's not the news. Gleason isn't pregnant." Bobby sat up in his chair. "Mom, Gleason and I got married."

The smile faded from Frances's face. She looked from one to the other. "But you got married because Gleason is pregnant. Right?"

Bobby wiped his hands over his face and said patiently, "Gleason is not pregnant, Mom. We got married because we love each other and want to be together forever." He held tight to his frustration.

"Well, why didn't you tell me about this before you got married? I told you I wanted to be there. These people would have let me out for my son's wedding, for heaven's sake. Why didn't you tell me?"

Oh, he hated lying to his mother. "It was a spur of the moment thing, Mom. We told no one. We just went to the courthouse Saturday and did it." He watched his mother and saw the sadness seep into her expression. He knew that she knew he was lying; he never could lie to her.

Gleason changed the subject with, "Has Christian been around?"

It seemed that Frances did not hear the other woman. She continued to look at Bobby and he shifted under her gaze; he felt like he was five again.

"What? What did you say?" Slowly, Frances's head moved toward Gleason.

"Christian – has he been about?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah. He likes those books. He likes the stories and nursery rhymes with castles and kings and that kind of thing." Sadness and disappointment permeated her voice.

The little boy woke up at the sound of his name. He sat up and looked out from behind the drape. Mommy and Daddy! He walked slowly to his grandmother's side but she didn't notice him standing there.

The three sat quietly for a short time and then Bobby asked, "How are you feeling? You had a fever."

"I feel ok. Just tired, that's all." It appeared that Frances was done visiting. No one moved, no one said anything. "So, now that you're married, are you going to have a baby?"

Bobby's eyes closed slowly and then he stood. Both women, and one little boy, watched him walk to the door and stop. Bobby crossed his arms and stood still.

"Mrs. Goren, I'm too old to have a healthy baby. Besides, I work in Chicago and Bobby works here."

Mrs. Goren nodded and then looked at her hands. "I understand. It's best for you two. The one thing I've always wanted, a single grandchild, is too much trouble for you to give me. Fine."

Bobby spun, stormed to his mother's chair and hissed darkly, "Goddamn it, Mom, this has nothing to do with you! We are not having children because we are too old. Jesus Christ! Let it go, will you?"

His vehemence surprised his wife and his mother. Gleason reached for his arm, wanting him to sit, but Bobby wrenched away and went back to the door, hands in his pockets. He knew he should not have exploded like that; but, dear God, he thought, all this talk about a baby was making him crazy. Deep in his heart, Bobby wanted a baby with Gleason. He had been cautiously optimistic when she had gotten sick in the morning and then was queasy with the smell of coffee – just like last time. But, her period had come, just as she said it would. There would be no baby.

Gleason looked from Bobby standing in the door to Frances and saw her look down to the left. "Here you are, my sweet pea!" Frances appeared to be listening and then said, "I know Daddy is angry. I said the wrong thing again. Your mommy is here, too. Want to say hi?"

Bobby turned and Gleason searched the air beside her mother-in-law's chair. Frances listened again. "All right, that's ok, I know you are shy. Did you know your mommy and daddy got married?" She listened again. "You were?" Frances laughed, seemed to listen and then said, "Oh Sweet Pea, that wasn't a castle!" Listening. "No, Honey, he wasn't a king, he's a judge." Listening. "Christian, you are such a silly thing! No, Daddy is not a prince and Mommy isn't a princess." Listening, "I bet she did look like a princess."

Bobby wandered over and sat again, watching his mother; listening to her converse with the child only she could see and hear. He glanced to his left and saw Gleason sitting with her fingers in front of her lips. He reached over and put a hand on her knee.

"How about you go and play while I talk with Daddy and Mommy. Ok? Yes, you can sit here quietly if you like."

Frances looked from the child back to the couple. "Well, your son was at your wedding. Too bad your mother wasn't invited."

"Christian was there?" Gleason asked in a small voice.

"Yes, he thought the judge was a king and that he was making you a princess and Bobby a prince. He said you looked like a princess."

"Jesus Christ Almighty!" Bobby said darkly and stood. "Will you stop this? Both of you. There – is – no – child!"

"So, I'm crazy! This little boy makes me happy, Bobby. You won't give me a grandchild – let me have this! You never, not once, ever did anything I asked you to do. So, why should I expect you to do this?"

Bobby wiped his face with his hands and said to Gleason, "Come on, we're leaving." He put out his hand to her and she stood.

"Mrs. Goren, we'll be back on Sunday." Gleason and Frances reached for each other's hand and Gleason bent to give her mother-in-law a peck.

"All right, Dear, we'll see you then."

Gleason stepped to Bobby and whispered, "Bobby say goodbye to your mother." He ignored her and led her to the door. Gleason turned and waved sadly.

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Neither said a word until they entered their apartment. "I'm going to order Chinese, is that all right?" Bobby asked her. She could hear the ire in his voice.

"That's fine."

Bobby made the call, went down the hall to the bathroom and Gleason opened a bottle of wine.

"I'm going to have a beer. Or four."

Gleason looked at him standing in the kitchen doorway, hands in his pockets. She crossed to him and said, "Dearheart, your mum loves you. Don't give any mind to the things she says." She slipped her arms around his waist, under his arms. He didn't say anything and he kept his hands in his pockets. "Come sit with me." She slid a hand down his arm and pulled his hand from his pocket. "Come on."

He followed her to the sofa and they sat, Gleason curled against him. "Talk to me, Love."

Bobby ran his left hand over his head and down his neck, "She makes me crazy." Gleason knew to let him talk. "I have never been able to make her happy. Never. I do everything for her – always have. My deadbeat father and shit-head brother never did a goddamn thing for her. I took care of her. Them." Bobby rested his head on the sofa back. "Jesus."

Gleason knew that Bobby's anger and frustration was rooted in his want to have a child. His mother's talk of a grandchild and her humanizing the hallucination set off Bobby's temper.

After she was sick Tuesday morning and then gagged over the smell of the fresh coffee, Gleason realized that she could be pregnant again. She didn't think so, however, as she took her birth control pill without fail. Besides, she didn't feel like she had the first time. And then, her period arrived this morning, right on schedule.

Can I safely have a healthy baby, at my age, she wondered. What would that be like? I would have to relinquish my position, I suppose, and our income would be reduced by half. On the other hand, we would only have one rent payment each month, and we would not have the airfares. It was true; nearly all of Gleason's salary went to paying for the rent on her flat and the cost of them flying back and forth between Chicago and New York. We would need a bigger place, though; we would need a room for the baby, and that would be expensive. He would be such a good father. . .

The buzzer sounded. "Dinner's here," Bobby said, standing.

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