Finding Isadora(36)

I didn’t want to think of Gabriel bailing on his lover and her child, even if she’d lied and the child wasn’t really his. Would he have done that? I remembered something else Richard had just said. “You think Gabriel had a rotten childhood?”

“Apparently. Why?”

“Sounds like he didn’t have a role model for being a good parent.”

“That’s not an excuse for the way he treated me.”

“No, of course not.” All the same, I felt sorry for Gabriel. Though not as sorry as for Richard, I reflected as I savored a mouthful of pad thai. “I was so lucky,” I mused. “Growing up with Grace and Jimmy Lee was unconventional, but I never doubted they loved and wanted me.”

“Mom loved and wanted me.”

“Maybe Gabriel did, too. Maybe he just didn’t know how to show it.”

“Staying home occasionally would have helped. Showing up when he promised to.”

I debated for a moment, then said, “I told you he drove me home on Tuesday? Well, somehow we got talking and… You know when he didn’t show up for your law school grad? One of his clients—a welfare mother—had just been arrested for murdering a boyfriend who’d been abusing her.”

Richard stared at me. “You were discussing me with my father?”

“Not really. It kind of came up. Anyhow, I’m just saying that—”

“You’re making excuses for him.”

Damn. I’d been trying to help, not make things worse. “Not excuses. I wanted you to know it wasn’t because he didn’t care, or forgot, or something. He had an emergency. Maybe some of those other times he didn’t show, it was the same thing.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Iz, I’m not disputing that his work was important, it just would have been nice if once in a while he’d thought I was more important.”

Thank heavens he didn’t look mad any more. I decided to leave well enough alone and, in glum silence, we both poked at our meals. When our waitress came to ask if everything was all right, we both said it was great, we just weren’t that hungry. We asked her to wrap our leftovers to take home. I’d enjoy mine for dinner another night when my stomach wasn’t tense with nerves, and Richard would have a nice lunch to take to the office.

The waitress inquired about dessert and coffee. We both turned down dessert. Richard ordered coffee and I chose lemongrass tea, needing something soothing.

Richard stared at the tablecloth for a long moment, then looked up at me. “I want to know for sure. Whether he’s my father.”

I bit my lip. “Are you positive? What good would it do? If Gabriel’s your biological father, do you think it’ll bring you closer?”

“No, this isn’t about Gabe and me. And no, I don’t want to inflict myself on some other guy, my long-lost sperm donor. To the extent I need a father figure, Frank’s just fine.”

The waitress served our coffee and tea, then Richard went on. “It’s that business of genetic diseases. We’re planning to get married, have children. You know your family background on both Grace’s and Jimmy Lee’s sides. We need to know who I really am.”

I reached for his hand. “I know who you are. You’re a fine, healthy man.”

He squeezed my hand then withdrew his to toy with his coffee cup. “That’s not enough. I have to know if I’m carrying the genes for some horrible disease.”

“Richard, I don’t—”

“What if I have some disease and it just hasn’t manifested itself yet? Like, say I have Huntington’s disease or ALS? You shouldn’t be stuck with a man with an illness like that.”

I frowned. “Richard, my love isn’t conditional on you staying healthy, for heaven’s sakes. In sickness and in health, remember? And there are far more risks than hereditary diseases. It’s more likely you’d be in an accident and end up paraplegic.” Goddess forbid, as Grace would say.

“What about our children? What if we had a child with cystic fibrosis or hemophilia or Tay-Sachs?”

I flinched at the thought that our children might suffer. “Well,” I said slowly, “that’s what amniocentesis is for.”

“Look me in the eyes, Isadora Dean Wheeler, and tell me you could abort a child of ours.”

“I… I’m not sure.” Every cell in my body protested at the idea, but I tried to think like a scientist as well as a prospective mother. “If that would be the more humane thing to do. If the child was going to have a horrible, painful illness and die young. Maybe. But Richard—” I was about to say how farfetched and hypothetical this all was.

Nodding, he broke in. “Yeah, maybe. But it would be better not to conceive the child at all.”

“Hmm. I guess we could go for genetic testing. If there’s a serious problem—if we’ve both got the genes for something horrible—then we’ll adopt.”

“What are we going to get tested for? I need a starting point. I need to know who my father is.”

I raised my cup of lemongrass tea and inhaled, letting the scent ease my tension. To my mind, Richard wasn’t being entirely rational about this. But then, why should I expect him to be rational after what he’d learned about Diane and Gabriel?

“You think I’m nuts,” he said.