C Box: Three Weeks to Say Goodbye

He raised his eyebrows.

“Do you really want to be a father? Do you really want to change your life right now? Do you realize how much work it is to be a father, to care for and support a baby?”

Moreland spoke for him once again. “Kellie and I will raise the baby. She will be our granddaughter and our daughter. Garrett will go to college to become a lawyer or a doctor, and when he’s married and has a home, he will take the child in with him.”

“I asked Garrett,” I said.

“He has nothing to say about it,” Moreland said, heat in his voice. “We have discussed this in our family, and that is the way it will be.”

Garrett watched me as his father spoke to read my reaction.

“So where is your wife in this?” Melissa asked Judge Moreland. “Why didn’t she come with you?”

“She was too uncomfortable,” Moreland said, tight-lipped.

“She doesn’t want to meet us?” Melissa asked, bitterness in her voice.

Moreland flushed and looked at his shoes. “She’s embarrassed.”

It sounded like a lie.

He changed the subject, saying, “I’d like to see the baby.”

Melissa said, “She’s asleep.”

“I won’t wake her.”

Melissa looked to me with horrified desperation.

“Maybe it would be best not to see her now,” I said.

“I want to see her. I want to see what she looks like,” he said firmly.

Standoff. And no one spoke for a full minute. My insides churned, and I realized the palms of my hands were icy cold and dry. The confidence I’d had when the meeting began was gone. It seemed as though the room we sat in had tilted slightly and become unfamiliar.

Melissa sighed. “I’ll take you up there.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. Were we conceding anything? I wasn’t sure. Maybe Melissa thought if Moreland saw Angelina asleep in her crib, in her room, in our house, he would soften to our position. After all, the discussion so far had been abstract. Seeing the baby might help us.

“Sure,” she said.

I turned to Garrett. “Do you want to go?”

Garrett shook his head. “That’s okay,” he said. “I’d like a Coke or something, though. Do you have a Coke?”

He didn’t want to see her. That buoyed me. While Melissa led Moreland up the stairs, I went into the kitchen for the drink. Melissa kept a stash of Diet Coke in the back of the refrigerator. I filled an empty glass with ice from the icemaker and took the can and glass back into the living room. Garrett was standing at the mantel, looking at photos of our wedding, my parents on the ranch, Melissa’s family at their reunion last summer at the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs, Angelina as an infant in Melissa’s arms.

Over the baby monitor, I could hear the door to Angelina’s room open.

I handed the can and the glass to Garrett. He took the can without a word. That he’d stayed downstairs gave me an opening.

“You don’t really want to be a father, do you?”

“Not really.”

“So it’s your father?”

“He has ideas of his own.”

“Can you talk him out of it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Will you try?”

Garrett looked at me blankly. Something in his eyes disturbed me. It was as if he saw me as someone who couldn’t possibly understand him, and I was not worth an explanation.

“Just sign the papers,” I said. “There’s nothing your parents can do if you sign them.”

He smiled that half smile.

“I’ll do what I can for you if you sign them,” I said, having no idea what I could possibly do for him.

“My father is very rich,” he said. “I don’t need you.”

“You might if you sign the papers,” I said, trying to engage him man-to-man again. “Look, we’ve all made mistakes. None of us is perfect. Being a father changes your life, believe me. It’s a good thing, but you need to be ready for it. There’s a lot you need to give up. Your life is no longer your own. You lose your freedom. Plus, it’s the right thing to do, and I think you know that.”

He nodded while I spoke, and his eyes glistened. He was hearing me, and it seemed like he wanted to hear more. I got the strange feeling, though, that he wasn’t offering me encouragement as much as egging me on.

Over the monitor, I heard Melissa say, “Don’t touch her.” Her tone startled me.

“I just want to turn her over and look at her face,” Moreland said.

“I’ll do it,” Melissa said.

I could hear Angelina’s covers rustle, and heard a murmur.

“There,” Melissa said.

I realized both Garrett and I were staring at the monitor, straining to hear every word, every sound.

“Ah,” Moreland said. “She’s beautiful. She looks like her father and me.”

Silence from Melissa.

“See that little birthmark on her calf? I have that birthmark. It’s a sign of being a Moreland.”

“No!” Melissa said.

What was he doing?

He said, “I want to pick her up.”

“I said no.”

“Okay, okay,” Moreland said. “I’ll let her sleep. Can I take a photo of her at least? To show Kellie?”

“Please, I’d rather you didn’t,” Melissa said, sighing.

“Just a photo? Just one?”

Her silence was taken as acquiesence by both Moreland and me. I heard the click of a digital camera.

“I want to look at her for a few more moments.”

Melissa said, “Just look. That’s all.”

I put the glass of ice on the coffee table and prepared to go upstairs. My hands were trembling and knotted into fists, and I felt myself on the verge of losing control. If he said anything more, took more photos, touched her…

“Please, Mrs. McGuane…” the judge said. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Melissa said, “She’s my baby, and you want to take her away from me.”

“I understand how you must feel,” he said gently.

I took a deep breath, tried to calm myself. It had been a long time since I’d been as angry. I wondered what I would have done up there. I thought again of the Colt.45. And I knew that Melissa and I had entered a whole new place, where everything was different.

I noticed Garrett watching me, a smirk on his face.

“What were you going to do?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

“I bet nothing.”

“You don’t want to see the baby, do you?” I asked.

“No,” he said, with that lazy curl of his lip.

“Sign the papers,” I said.

“You have a nice wife,” Garrett said. “I like her.”

His demeanor changed from the smirk back to stoic as Melissa and Moreland came down the stairs. His eyes were on Melissa, not his father.

“Maybe I’ll come over and watch the Bronco game with you,” Garrett said.

“What?” I was stunned once again.

“I should probably get to know you better,” he said, his eyes still on Melissa. “We should hang out.”

I didn’t know how to react to that. I could tell by their faces that both Melissa and Moreland had missed the exchange.

Moreland stopped on the landing and shook Melissa’s hand.

“Thank you,” he said. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is,” Melissa said, letting a tiny smile escape despite herself. “And she’s ours,” she added.

“Ah, we need to resolve this.”

“No,” Melissa said. “There’s nothing to resolve.”

Damn, I admired her for her toughness. Simply no.

Moreland turned to me. In response, I nodded toward Melissa as if to say, It’s out of my hands. The answer is no.

“Come along, Garrett,” Moreland said. And to us, “Thank you for the coffee. It was nice to meet you.”

Garrett drained his Coke and handed the empty can to me, letting Moreland walk by until he was out of earshot. He had an incredulous look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe his sudden good fortune.