Danielle Steel - Fine things

His mother wagged an angry finger at him. “Don't overlook your responsibilities, Bernard.”

And he laughed at her. “Whose mother are you, anyway? Hers or mine?” He felt sorry for Liz sometimes, she had absolutely no family at all, except him, and Jane, and his parents in New York. As aggravating as his mother was at times, it was still nice to know that someone gave a damn about him.

“Don't be so smart. It might do her good to get away before the baby comes.” And for once, he took his mother's advice and took Liz away to Hawaii for a few days, and this time they didn't take Jane, although she pouted at them for several weeks because of it. But he came home from the store with stacks of tropical maternity clothes for her, and the reservations already made. He faced her with a fait accompli and three days later they left. And when they returned, she was brown and healthy and relaxed, and she felt like her old self again. Or almost, except for heart-burn, insomnia, back pains, swollen legs, and increasing fatigue, all of which were normal the doctor said. The pains in her back and hips were the worst, but that was normal too.

“God, Bernie, sometimes I feel like I'm never going to be my old self again.” She had gained more than thirty pounds, and she had two months to go, but she still looked cute to him. Her face had filled out a little bit, but it didn't spoil her looks, she just looked younger than she usually did. And she always looked neat and well dressed. He thought she looked sweet that way, although he was aware that his desire for her was waning. But it didn't seem to be a time for that, although she complained sometimes. He was afraid he would hurt the child, especially if they got too enthusiastic, which they often did. And eventually, Liz didn't care about making love anyway. By the end of March she was so uncomfortable, she could barely move, and she was grateful that she didn't have to go to work anymore. She couldn't have stood another day of trying to stand on her feet, keeping the kids in line, or teaching them simple math or their ABC's.

Her class gave a baby shower for her, and everyone brought something they'd made. She had booties, sweaters, hats, an ashtray, three drawings, a cradle someone's father had built for them, and a tiny pair of wooden shoes, along with all the gifts the other teachers had given her. And of course Bernie brought home more baby clothes from the store every few days. Between what he brought home, and what his mother sent from New York, she had enough for quintuplets at least. But it was fun seeing it all, and now she could hardly wait to get it over with. She was getting nervous about the birth, and she could hardly sleep at night. Instead, she would roam the halls, sit in the living room and knit, watching late-night TV, or go and sit in the baby's room, thinking about what it would be like when the baby was born.

She was there one afternoon, waiting for Jane to come home from school, sitting in the rocking chair Bernie had painted for her only two weeks before, when the telephone rang. She thought about not answering it. But she always hated to do that when Jane was out. You never knew when something would go wrong, or they needed her, or she got hurt coming home from school, or it might have been Bernie and she loved talking to him. She pushed herself out of the chair with a groan, rubbed her back, and lumbered slowly into the living room.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon.” There was something familiar about the voice, but she wasn't sure what. It was probably someone trying to sell something to her.

“Yes?”

“How've you been?” Something about the voice gave her the creeps.

“Who's this?” She tried to sound casual, but she felt breathless as she stood there, holding the phone. There was something ominous about the voice, but she wasn't sure what.

“You don't remember me?”

“No, I don't.” She started to hang up, hoping it was just a prank, but the voice was quick to grab her back.

“Liz, wait!” It was a command, and the voice suddenly lost its fluidity It was sharp and brusque, and suddenly she knew, but it couldn't be … it only sounded like him. She stood very still holding the phone, and said nothing at all to him. “I want to talk to you.”

“I don't know who you are.”

“The hell you don't.” He laughed, and it was an evil, raucous sound. She had never liked his laugh, and now she knew exactly who it was. What she didn't know was how he had found her again, or why. And she wasn't sure she wanted to know. “Where's my kid?”

“What difference does it make?” It was Chandler Scott, the man who had fathered Jane, which was different from being a father to her. What he had done had to do with Liz, but nothing to do with the child. The man who was a father to her was Bernie Fine, and Liz wanted nothing more to do with this man. Her voice told him so when she answered him.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven't seen her in five years, Chan. She doesn't even know who you are.” Or that you're alive, but she didn't tell him that. “We don't want to see you anymore.”

“I hear you're married again.” She looked down at her belly and smiled. “I'll bet the new hubby has bucks.” It was a disgusting thing to say and it angered her.

“What difference does that make?”

“I want to know my kid's all right, that's why. In fact, I think I ought to see her. I mean, after all, she ought to know she has a real father who cares about her.”

“Really? If you were so interested in that, you should have let her know a long time ago.”

“How was I supposed to know where you were? You disappeared.”

That brought something else to mind she couldn't figure out as she listened to him, her heart pounding angrily. There was a lot she would have liked to say to him once upon a time, but now it was so long ago. Jane was seven years old. “How'd you find me now?”

“You're not too hard to find. You were listed in an old phone book. And your old landlady told me your married name. How's Jane?”

Her jaw clenched as he said her name. “Fine.”

“I thought I'd drop in to say hi one of these days.” He tried to sound casual.

“Don't waste your time. I'm not going to let you see her.” She thought he was dead, and Liz wished he were.

“You can't keep her from me, Liz.” His voice had a nasty ring to it.

“Oh no? Why not?”

“Try explaining to a judge that you're keeping a natural father from his daughter.”

“Try telling him you abandoned her six years ago. I'm sure he'll be very sympathetic to you after that.” The doorbell rang, and Liz felt her heart pound. It was Jane, and she didn't want her to hear her talking to him. “Anyway, get lost, Chan. Or to put it a little more clearly for you, go screw yourself.”

“I think you just did. I'm seeing a lawyer this afternoon.”

“What for?”

“I want to see my kid.”

The doorbell rang again and she shouted out to wait just a minute.

“Why?”

“Because it's my right.”

“And then what? You disappear for another six years? Why don't you just leave her alone?”

“If that's what you want, you'll have to talk to me.” So that was it. Another scam. He wanted money from them. She should have known.

“Where are you staying? I'll call you back.” He gave her a number in Marin, and she jotted it down.

“I want to hear from you by tonight.”

“You will.” Sonofabitch, she said through clenched teeth as she hung up and she went to the door, looking pale, and let Jane in. She had been banging her lunch box against the door and there was a big chip on the black paint and Liz yelled at her, which made her cry, and she slammed into her room, as Liz went in and sat down on the bed, close to tears herself.