Chapter 21

Rhoda could hardly believe the paycheck that rested in her hands. The numbers gleamed up at her, numbers she had never before thought possible. What would she even do with it all? It more than covered their rent, the grocery bills, by God Mary needn't even work if she didn't want to!

There was only one thing Rhoda couldn't buy with that money. One thing that mattered more than anything else.

And that was why she found herself parked out front of the unfamiliar little house. She'd had to do some research to find where he resided, research that Mary could not be partial to. She felt guilty somehow, having done so without her consent, but here Rhoda was. And she was prepared to fight for what Mary deserved.

She hated the home as she walked to the door, her confidence waning with each step. So this was where it had all happened. This was where he'd swept Mary off to that night so many months ago...

Rhoda knocked on the door, almost surprised when Peter answered after only a few moments. His lighthearted smile morphed into a displeased frown, brow knitting in disapproval. "Uh, Rhoda. What are you - why are you here?" He was thrown off by her appearance.

"I wanted to talk to you. About Mary." Rhoda peered inside, the faint hint of a perfume she recognized from Hempel's floated through the bachelor pad. Ah yes, Estée Lauder's Youth-Dew. It was distinct, feminine.

"Uh, now's not a really great time." He rubbed the back of his head, uncomfortable.

"Yeah, buddy, well times haven't been great recently. I want to reason with you. This custody suit, it's a little ridiculous."

Peter relaxed a little, looking so smug. "Rhoda, that baby doesn't belong with you."

"Oh yeah? And why is that? Because I'm a woman and didn't get Mary knocked up?" Rhoda felt her blood boil. But she caught herself, worked to reel herself in because she had come to have a reasonable, adult conversation. She just hated the way he was looking at her, as if he were the worthier opponent.

"Are you finished? Because I have something to get back to." He held her gaze, steady, unwavering.

"You mean someone." Rhoda peered around him, searching for the woman whom the perfume belonged to. "Gonna knock her up, too?"

"If you're done insulting me..." he moved to close the door but the sweet, honeyed voice of a woman rounded the corner.

"Who is it, sweetie?" She came into view, a knock out, Mary thin, long blonde hair, big eyes, maybe five years younger than Rhoda.

"No one." Peter was ruffled then. He couldn't play this off.

"I'm Rhoda. Rhoda Morgenstern." Rhoda pushed past Peter and extended her hand to this young girl.

"Hiya, I'm Susie. Friend of Peter's?" She perkily asked.

"'Fraid not. He's a friend of my friend. My very pregnant, very distraught friend." Rhoda caught Peter's eye, challenging him. Would he have told this floozy about his future child?

"Rhoda, can we talk outside." He grabbed her arm and guided her towards the door again.

"Nice to meet you Susie." Rhoda waved as she was rushed out.

"What do you want, Rhoda?" He asked as soon as the door was closed behind them.

"I want you to drop this suit."

"It's out of my hands now. Her mother is the plaintiff." He looked annoyed.

"You're on the suit, too. Come on, Peter. You don't want to raise this kid. You're not even serious about Mary." She pointed towards the door for emphasis.

"I am serious about Mary. She's not serious about me. What's a man to do?"

"Alright, okay. Yes, this is quite a predicament." Rhoda conceded. "Look it, I didn't come here to get into an argument. I want to really talk to you about this, about Mary. She's going to be devastated if she can't keep the baby."

"Rhoda, she has options. She knows that if she'd just come back to me her mother would throw out this suit."

What an option! Rhoda clenched her fists at her side. "She's not coming back to you. Would you really want that? You'd want to live a lie with her? Knowing, full well, that she isn't in love with you and, judging by your present company, I can't imagine you'd reciprocate either. What happens when that baby turns eighteen and there's nothing left between you? It's not a life, Peter. You know this." Rhoda reasoned the best she could, begging him to see it her way.

He laughed, "and she's not living a lie with you? I mean c'mon, two women. Living together? Raising a child – my child – together?"

"I love her. I love her more than you'll ever understand and she loves me. So no, it's not a lie. It's the real thing." Rhoda felt her anger dissolving quickly, her want to make things right masking any bitterness and resentment she had towards this man before her. "And I don't know what to say about the kid. I get it, Peter, I really get it. It is your child and I think I speak for Mary and myself if I say that neither of us want to keep you from the child. We want you to be a part of its life."

Peter's smug look was fading as Rhoda's truthful words sunk in. He ran a hand through his hair. "Even if I wanted to drop the suit her mother is not going to back down. And you and I both know Mary doesn't stand a chance in court."

"Which is why I came here to ask you to talk to Dottie, to tell her that a marriage would never work between the two of you and that you'll still be a part of the child's life." Rhoda could feel the frustration welling up inside. It didn't make sense, and she couldn't control his actions any more than she wished she could control Mary's mother's actions. Couldn't the world just be content to allow two humans to love one another and to raise a child together? "Don't you see, Peter, we're giving you your freedom to find someone who can really love you. The way you deserve. And we're not trying to take the child away, we're not…it's still yours as much as it is Mary's. I can see that. I understand that. And it…it hurts more than you'll ever know, but I'm willing to do anything to make this easier for Mary." Her voice broke, waivered with unshed tears that were dangerously close to materializing.

"You'd have made it easier for Mary if you hadn't gotten involved at all." Peter's last attempt at anger cut her to the core.

"I know it, I know." A tear slid down her cheek and she fought to hold back the rest, angry that she had shed even one. "It makes no sense. I tried to get her to go back to you, I begged, but you see, she doesn't love you. She loves me. And it's not a competition between the two of us. We both care for her and we both want what's best for her and the child. So please. Please, talk to Dottie."

Peter softened only a little as he watched her fall apart before him. He paced the sidewalk for a moment, as if needing a second to clear his mind, to think through the situation.

Rhoda wiped at her cheeks, trying to hold herself together. She could fall apart later, now she needed to be strong for herself, for Mary.

"I can talk to her, but I can't make any promises that it will change anything." He finally stopped before Rhoda again, looking into her eyes, his face as frightened and uncertain as her own. The gravity of the situation teetered between them, suddenly a shared burden, a shared goal. "I do care about Mary and I care about the child. And no matter what, I do want to be a part of its life so I hope…well, we'll see how it pans out, but I want to be there for it."

Rhoda felt a small, appreciative smile tugging at her lips. If the situation were less tense, less awkward she might have thrown her arms about his neck and kissed his cheek. Instead she stuck out her hand for his. "Yes, of course. Of course you'll be a part of the child's life. Thank you, thank you."

"I'm not promising anything."

"I know, but thank you." Rhoda was shaking his hand adamantly and he looked at her with an unreadable, uncertain gaze. But it was something, it was a slight nudge in the right direction. If only Dottie Richards could get on board.

"Ohh, Rhoda. I can't take it!" Mary groaned, hardly able to wrestle out of her coat before collapsing onto the couch. "My feet are swollen, I feel like a balloon, a really, really big balloon. I can't walk, I can't sit, I can't move, I can't think. I just can't, Rhoda!" She propped her legs up on the coffee table and reclined on the couch, frustration knotting her brow.

Rhoda felt bad for the slight grin that crossed her lips. "You poor, poor thing." She wiped her hands on the dish towel and stepped away from her meal preparations to attend to her ailing wife. Settling atop the coffee table she removed Mary's heels - the woman was mad for wearing them, but she insisted - and rubbed her stocking covered left foot. She was glad that her mother had left – with promises to return when the baby arrived – for now they could return to their comfortable domesticity. The touching had returned, the freedom of movement, of taking what they wanted from one another when they wanted, for their home was their only safe haven away from the world.

"It's insufferable. I don't know how I'll go on for another month." Mary's lower lip puckered out, begging for Rhoda to make it all go away.

"Somehow I think you'll survive, kid. You know you don't have to keep working. Lou can manage without you until the baby comes. And you've gotta stop it with the heels. What if you tripped and fell? It's impractical in the snow." Rhoda flinched, "I really am starting to sound like my mother."

"They're the only things I have left that make me feel pretty." Mary looked as if she might cry.

"Oh, Mary, Mary, you are pretty. Even without heels." Rhoda couldn't help the laugh that escaped from her lips. She moved from her perch on the coffee table and covered Mary, pulling that adorably sad lip between her own lips. Mary sighed contentedly and wrapped her arms lazily about Rhoda, trying her hardest to keep her with her.

"It's no fair, you know. You're stick thin and here I am, practically the size of a house." Mary moaned.

"I'm not stick thin, what are you talking about?" Rhoda grimaced, feeling self-conscious. She didn't want to think about the fact that her clothes had been practically falling off of her lately.

"Yes, you are. Since we've moved in here you've lost about twenty pounds and you didn't even have twenty pounds to lose." Mary grabbed at Rhoda's waist, her hands able to slide easily about her sides.

"Oh, no kid. It's all in your imagination." Rhoda felt her cheeks flushing.

"Is not. I better see you eat two helpings tonight." Mary was looking very sternly at her.

Rhoda shrugged, pressed their lips together. "Who'd of thought rail-thin Mary would be admonishing me to eat more!"

"Have you seen me lately, Rhoda? I'm as big as a hippo." Mary was laughing, pulling Rhoda closer to her. Their lips melded together. Until Rhoda could smell the meat browning.

She freed herself, whispering "later, kid." She winked and moved away to tend to dinner. To stand away from Mary when she told her what she'd done that day. She wasn't sure how Mary would react. "Hey kid, I, uh-I went to see Peter today."

Mary was silent then. Rhoda never liked when she was silent. It was never a good sign.

"Yeah?"

"I wanted - well I wanted to talk to him. About talking to your mother. I thought she might listen to him."

"Oh, Rhoda." Mary groaned.

"He was with another gal, this little blonde kid, barely over twenty you know, and I - well, I told him that we wanted him in the kid's life but that marrying you would be fruitless."

"You, you - uh - stood up for me?"

"Yeah, oh hey kid, I didn't do anything bad. He came around." Rhoda moved back to Mary, wanting to make sure she hadn't upset her. Not too badly anyway. "He's going to talk to your mother."

Mary's eyes teared up then and she looked down at her protruding stomach, hands wrapping about it in lost wonder. "You know, it's not so bad. The being pregnant thing." Mary looked up, as if needing reassurance.

Rhoda took her hand in her own, sitting again across from her, leaning forward to look into her eyes. "Mare, I don't know what your mother is going to do but this baby belongs with us. We're not going to give up."

Mary shook her head through watery eyes. She moved to run her hand through Rhoda's loose curls, touching her cheek. "Thank you. For everything."

"Don't mention it." Rhoda waved her hand, not feeling as if she'd done enough. Mary could thank her when they got custody.

God, Rhoda hoped they did.

"C'mon kid. Dinner's ready." Rhoda kissed her hand and then helped her up.