Baby Comes First by Beverly Farr

He’d gone so far as to mark it on his own
calendar, to be prepared.
    But she didn’t seem to mind the topic.
“Somewhat,” she admitted. “Once I start crying, it’s hard to stop.
I find myself weeping over the commercials for laundry
detergent.”
    He smiled. He admired the way she could joke
about it. “I’ll get you more comedies. Is there anything else you
want -- any food you’re craving?”
    “Like the proverbial pickles and ice-cream?”
She shook her head. “No, Mrs. Parker is doing an excellent job
taking care of me.”
    “Good.” He glanced at the clock on the wall.
It was too early in the morning to invite himself for lunch, and he
was running out of things to say.
    There was an awkward silence, then she said,
“Thank you for your phone calls.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    There was another silence. She said, “You’re
being very kind, and I appreciate it, but I must admit, part of me
is astonished. Why are you being so nice, spending so much time
with me? I know you have important cases and work to do.”
    Yes, but he found himself thinking about her
more and more. He shrugged. “Maybe I have ulterior motives.”
    “Like what? Your bringing me movies to watch
isn’t going to make me come back to work any sooner.”
    He had aroused her curiosity; that was
progress. “No, but I’m not thinking about work.”
    She frowned. “What are you thinking
about?”
    He debated for a moment, then decided to be
honest. “I’m thinking about getting married.”
    She gasped. “To whom?”
    “To you.”
    She laughed nervously. “If this is some kind
of joke, I don’t -- I -- You can’t be serious.”
    “Why not?”
    She motioned to her stomach. “I’m pregnant,
for one thing.”
    “I know, and that’s the main reason why I
think we should get married. Your baby needs a father.”
    She shook her head in disbelief. “This is
taking charity to an extreme level. Do you propose marriage to all
your pro bono cases?”
    He supposed her sarcasm was justified. His
proposal had taken her by surprise. The idea surprised him at
first, too, but the more he considered it, the more he felt that it
was the right thing to do. The baby needed a father, Hannah could
use a husband, and as long as Hannah was his wife, he wouldn’t mind
marrying again. Hannah was so different from Gloria; he thought
they could be happy together. He said, “No, you’re the only one
I’ve considered marrying.”
    “But why me? You don’t even know me!”
    But I want to know you better . He
tried to explain. “We’ve worked together for nearly half a year. I
know you’re hard working, intelligent, and we get along well. We
respect each other. I think that would be a good basis for a happy
marriage.”
    “This is crazy.”
    “Why?”
    “People are usually in love with each other
when they get married.”
    He dismissed her argument. “What most people
call love is a combination of infatuation and hormones. And judging
from the divorce rates, it isn’t a very reliable means of choosing
a marriage partner.”
    “But surely you and your wife --”
    “No, we may have thought we were in love at
the beginning, but it didn’t last,” he said flatly. “We tried, but
I don’t think either one of us was pleased with what we had. At
first, I hoped that children would make a difference, but we were
unable to have children, and then Gloria became ill. At that point
it didn’t matter how I felt – she was my wife, and it was my duty
to take care of her.”
    He frowned, remembering those dark days.
Gloria had hated being ill, and she’d resented him for being
healthy. Nothing he did was enough to make her happy. When she
finally passed away, his first feelings had been of relief,
followed by the grieving.
    Hannah interrupted his memories with a quiet,
“Just because you and your wife weren’t happy, doesn’t mean that
love isn’t real.”
    “Marriage is a social contract between two
people: nothing more, nothing less. If two