Hadassah
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2012 by Robert McKay

"Three people?" Joshua asked.

"Yes – you, me, and our baby."

"Our baby ... I'm sorry, Hadassah, I forgot."

"That's something you can't forget," Gill said. "Hadassah's been learning this past week about consequences." My daughter nodded her head sadly – at least it was a sad expression on her face. "One of those consequences is that there is a third person in your relationship, a person who will always be related to you, a person whom your decisions will affect profoundly."

Joshua ran his hand through his hair, and I thought queasily of the gel that must have come off on his palm, for he had one of those gelled styles that looks like short spikes all over the scalp. His hair, I knew, was naturally brown, but the gel made it look darker, as though it were wet all the time. "Yeah, you're right. I'm not thinking now ... I wasn't thinking then, I guess." He looked at the floor, and then at Hadassah. "What do you want?"

"I want my baby." It was the strongest, most definite expression we'd heard from our daughter in a week. "I want to raise my baby, and teach her, or him, whatever, not to do what I've done."

"There are other things you can do, Hadassah."

"What other things?"

"You could give the baby up for adoption, or ... or you could abort it." Joshua's voice almost failed him when he said that word which in our house was in the same category as profanity. It seemed to me that he didn't want to mention it, and I knew that he was aware of our thoughts on the matter, but I got the impression that he didn't believe he could leave it unsaid. Certainly his face was drawn, and as he uttered the word he looked down at the floor as though ashamed of what he was saying.

Hadassah's reaction was fierce. She sprang out of her chair and backed away. Her eyes didn't blaze – eyes themselves don't carry expression – but that's a good word to describe the fury on her face. "Kill my baby? You want me to murder my baby?"

"No, Hadassah..." Joshua got up too, and took a step toward her.

"Stay away from me! I'm not going to kill my baby! Stay back, Josh, or I swear it's over!" Her fingers had contracted to claws, and I wondered if she might try to dig Joshua's eyes out. I had seen her angry before, but this killing ferocity was absolutely unprecedented.

I stood up, and walked around the coffee table till I was between them. "Joshua, sit down." When he hesitated I looked at him and said, "Do it!" He did.

I turned to Hadassah. "You, young lady, will not scream at Joshua or anyone else in this house. I want an apology."

"But Daddy..." It wasn't a whine, but the beginning of a demand. Her voice was anything but weak now.

"Hadassah."

She glared at me, and then lowered her gaze, her curls falling around her face. "Yes, Daddy. Joshua, I'm sorry I screamed at you ... Mom, Dad, I'm sorry."

I reached out my hand and lifted her chin, and saw that the anger had gone out of her face, leaving it soft and vulnerable. "We forgive you, daughter. Please, sit down." When she did I turned to Joshua and just stared at him.

"What is it, Mr. Garvin?" he finally asked, in a fearful voice.

"Do you want to murder my grandchild?" My own voice sounded hard in my ears. I'd never wanted to kill or even hurt anyone in my life, but just then, hearing my voice, I though that perhaps Joshua might have reason to be afraid of me.

"No."

"Then why, sir, did you advise my daughter to do that very thing?" I was pushing, I knew, and doing it deliberately. Even if he hadn't really meant it, and I wasn't sure he had, he'd brought up the subject and I needed to deal with it immediately.

"Because ... it's one option. I don't want that! I want my baby. But ... but Hadassah and I are both so young..."

"I'll say this now, and hopefully never again – though I confess I've thought it many times this past week." My voice was still hard, bearing a freight of anger that I'd managed to keep inside until now. I turned and went to the sofa, and sat down, before I continued. "You say you're both young. Joshua, you both should have thought of that before you were immoral together."

"Yes, sir." It was a contrite expression, and I knew then that I'd thoroughly bullied him.

I turned my eyes to Hadassah. "You're right, Daddy," she said, her voice weak again.

"Very well. We've disposed of that ... that filthy practice. But we still need to figure out what you're going to do."

"Do I take it," Gill asked, "that you don't want to give up the baby, Hadassah?" Gill's voice was gentle, and as she leaned forward I saw the compassionate expression on her face, contrasting, I was sure, with how I'd looked a minute or two before.

"No ... yes ... you're right, I'm trying to say. I want my baby." She put her hands on her stomach, as though by doing so she could protect the unborn child against all the evil of the world.

Gill leaned further forward. "And you, Josh?"

"I want the baby too. But we're not married..."

My wife surprised me. "That's a minor problem at this point." A minor problem? I wondered if I was hearing correctly. "We can correct that when we've settled the important matters." No, I couldn't be hearing correctly. "Right now, we need to know what we're going to do with a human person who is, at this very moment, growing toward birth."

I had no idea what Gill meant by "minor problem," but I knew one thing – she wasn't entirely wrong. "That's the issue here," I said. "Joshua, Hadassah, you need to decide – and soon – whether you will keep this child."

They looked at each other, and both reached out at the same moment, their hands coming together. They both looked back at Gill and me. Joshua said, "We're keeping him."

"Or her," Hadassah put in.

"Or her."

Gill leaned back against the sofa cushion. "Well, then, that's settled. Now we can deal with marriage." The look on her face was that of a sovereign disposing of a troublesome problem and moving on to the next item on the agenda. I thought of Elizabeth I signing Mary Stewart's death warrant, the paper that would end the life of Mary Queen of Scots. Gill was nowhere near as ruthless as Elizabeth, but at that moment her regal serenity would have looked well on a genuine monarch.

 
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