Shelter (40 page)

    "It might have, if you'd asked me and if I wanted the kid in the first place. Never mind. That's the least of it. Look, log on and talk to your father while I cook, okay? And we'll talk while we eat."

    She left the kitchen, her stomach in a knot, and logged on. Her father's face filled the screen almost before she'd finished logging onto his website. "Meredith, I do not think it is a good idea for you and Kevin to adopt this child. Neither does Matt. No one thinks you would be ready, even if Kevin agreed."

    She swallowed. This was getting ridiculous. She knew it was her fault for talking to her mother, but her mother shouldn't have talked to the others, and Preston shouldn't have told Kevin. "You know what I think? I think it's nobody's business but mine and Kevin's, and from now on I'm asking the rest of you to butt out."

    "If you want us to butt out, why did you talk to your mother?"

    Because I thought she'd back me up. "Because I didn't know she was going to talk to the rest of the world. Look, Daddy, this is–this is something I want to do. For reasons you couldn't understand."

    "I understand very well. Constance and Matt and Kevin and I all understand. We understand–"

    "Nothing! You don't understand a thing, because you aren't in my skull. You've got a nice little intellectual explanation from the outside, but that's not the same thing. This is my business and Kevin's, and if I can get Kevin to change his mind, I'm going to adopt the baby, and if we adopt the baby, I need to know if you and Mom and Matt will help us. For the baby's sake, if not for ours."

    Preston was silent for a moment. "I would help the child however I could. I would help you however I could. Meredith, you know that. I am trying to help everyone by suggesting that this is not a good idea."

    "Thank you," she said. "Objection noted."

    * * *

    "Just meet him," she said over dinner. "You haven't even met him. Just come look at him. Please, Kevin? That's all I'm asking."

    "No, it isn't. If I do that you'll start saying adopt adopt adopt."

    "No, I won't." Kevin, she realized with a chill, thought that she was being obsessive. She supposed that he was right. But some things were worth being obsessive about. Being obsessive didn't have to mean being crazy. She sighed and said, "I promise you, that's all I'm asking. Just come see him. How can you know how you feel about him until you've spent time with him? You're rejecting parenthood as a hypothetical abstraction. The baby's a particular, flesh-and-blood child. And if you've met him, you'll be in a better position to talk me out of it." Or to decide that you agree with me. "Right now, I'm the only one with firsthand experience of the baby."

    Kevin shook his head. "This morning you said you were just going to visit him yourself Now you're saying that I have to visit him too. You're escalating, Merry."

    She closed her eyes. Please. Goddess, please. If she could just get Kevin to go to the hospital, maybe he'd start believing in love at first sight too. ''I'm not saying you have to do anything! I'm asking you! What are you afraid of? That you'll like him and I'll have proven you wrong? Just come see him so we won't be talking about this in a vacuum, all right? Come to keep me company, even if you don't care about him."

    "I didn't say I didn't care about him. I just said I didn't want to be his father."

    "Well, if you care about him, come visit him. Give him a new face to look at. Just once. Once, that's all I'm asking. If you come once and you still don't want to do it, we won't do it. I promise. I promise, Kevin."

    "I don't believe you. You'll keep pressuring me."

    "I won't." She meant it. "With all my heart, I promise that. Just come see him once."

    He sighed and pushed his plate away. "Once. I'll go on Saturday; I'm not taking work time for this. But that's all, Merry. And the answer will be no."

    * * *

    She visited Nicholas every day that week; she found herself whispering to him, telling him how to impress Kevin. "Don't cry. It will scare him. You have to be cute when he comes here. You have to be extra cute, so he'll want to take you home." Nicholas, of course, never answered, and the nurses gave no sign of having overheard. The baby still received plenty of ScoopNet coverage, but Meredith never saw herself mentioned; the administrator's promise of privacy was evidently being honored. She'd heard of no other prospective parents.

    On Friday night, Constance and Matt and Preston all called her, wanting to talk, wanting to talk her out of it. "We'll talk after Kevin's met the baby," she told all of them, and cut the conversations short. On Saturday morning, as she and Kevin drove to the hospital, a call came in on their car phone. It was her father's signal. She sighed and hit the ignore button. Kevin glanced at her, and she said, "I'll talk to him later. I'll talk to all of them later, okay? What in the name of the Goddess can he have to say about it, anyway? He was barely home when I was a baby, and he doesn't have a body now."

    At the hospital, the nurses waved and smiled as they buzzed Merry in. She led Kevin to the observation window, noting that the same tech who'd been there the first day she visited was jotting something on a clipboard. Odd that he worked both weekdays and weekends, but maybe he was putting in overtime.

    The nurse on duty held up Nicholas for Kevin to see. Meredith waved at the baby, and he grinned and waved his hands. "See? He knows me." She pointed to the glove box, and the nurse nodded. "Come over here. You can play with him a little."

    Kevin dutifully followed, dutifully stuck his hands through the glove box, dutifully smiled when Nicholas crowed and grabbed the gloves. "He loves this," Meredith said. "I think he thinks the gloves are animals or something. Here, take out one hand so I can put one in. That way we can both play with him. He likes to have his tummy tickled, see? Kevin, isn't he cute?"

    "Sure, he's cute. He's also a walking recipe for disaster. Kids who are touch-deprived right after birth are at significant psychological risk. I've done some research, Merry."

    "Anybody who's alive is at significant psychological risk. Hey, look, I think he's smiling at you."

    "No, I think he just has gas."

    "The point," she said, trying to keep her voice level, and wishing that the tech wasn't eavesdropping, as he surely was, "is to get him out of a risky situation into a better one. Right? Kevin, he's definitely smiling at you."

    "Meredith, I think we'd better continue this discussion at home."

    * * *

    They had, as it turned out, already said far too much in public. Merry had put the car on autopilot and was gazing out the window, exhausted, when Kevin said coldly, "All right, Meredith. You win."

    "What?" she said, startled. She turned and saw that he was gesturing at the vidscreen. She craned her neck to read the screen from his viewing angle, and saw the familiar ScoopNet logo, an eye with the turning globe as its iris. As usual, there were a plethora of headlines.

    "What are they up to now?"

    "What, you can't guess? You probably leaked it yourself."

    "What?" She reached out and tilted the screen toward her so she could read it more easily. "CV SURVIVORS IN AFRICA EAT KITTENS FOR LACK OF FOOD!" "PACIFIC RIM PARLIAMENT MEETING TURNS INTO KINKY ORGY!" "MERRY WALFORD'S LATEST TRAGEDY: KEVIN REFUSES TO ADOPT CV TYKE!"

    She felt her fists clenching. They'd left her alone for five years! What had she done to deserve this? Surely there were plenty of people more interesting than she was!

    The tech. It must have been the tech. He'd lose his job when the administrator found out, but ScoopNet had probably paid him a year's salary. "Kevin–I didn't leak it. The VP said–he promised–oh, Gaia, look, somebody on the inside was paid. I'm so sorry! I thought I was safe. I thought they didn't care about me anymore. I don't know why they do care about me anymore. I know you're not hard-hearted; I'd never call you that. We'll just ignore it. You don't like the baby. We won't adopt him. I'll find another baby. Off, vid!"

    "Disregard," Kevin snapped, and the vid stayed on. "Merry, I think you should read the story. It's a transcription of the conversation we had half an hour ago."

    She skimmed it. "Kevin Lindgren insisted that the baby's smile was just gas and said, 'He's a walking recipe for significant emotional risk.' He sure is, Kevin, if he gets you for a daddy! Brave Merry, meanwhile ... "

    "It's garbage," she said, trembling. "It's junk. We'll ignore it. Somebody else will adopt the baby. Kevin, it's going to be all right." His face terrified her; she'd never seen him so angry.

    The phone chirped: four short, one long. Constance. Meredith hit the voice button. "Hi, Mom."

    "Hello, dear. Is Kevin with you?"

    "We're both here."

    "Good. Darlings, we, ah, we have a little PR problem on our hands. You know, I ignore ScoopNet and nearly everyone else does too, anyone with any sense, that is, but the problem is that not everyone has sense, and, ah, the head of ViralAid just called Jack. They're very disturbed that this latest story may play into bigotry against CV survivors, and given that Merry's a survivor herself and your family's been affected, Kevin, they think it looks especially bad that, ah, that you've made a statement that CV survivors are emotionally disturbed, and—"

    "That's not what I said!"

    "Mom, that isn't what he said. Really. I was there. I know."

    ''I'm sure it's not what he said. The issue, though, is that some people who already believe that anyway are going to think that's what he said. So all ViralAid is asking is that you make a statement explaining what you really meant. That's all."

    "The baby doesn't even have CV," Merry said. "They're only keeping him in iso as a precaution, because they've never dealt with a case like this. He's ready to go home with someone. He's fine."

    "I know, honey. But not everyone understands that."

    "Wonderful," Kevin said. "So now I have to adopt because ViralAid thinks it would make good PR?"

    "No, no, no, Kevin, for heaven's sake, I don't think you should adopt unless you're ready! I've said that all along, and I told Merry as much-you can ask her yourself if you don't believe me. You just have to make some kind of statement saying that you weren't talking in a general way about all CV survivors. You know, say you're getting your career started and you don't want to be a father just yet. Tell them the truth, that's all."

    "And watch them twist it out of context? I don't think so. They've already done that once. Did you read the entire article? They think I married Merry just for her money."

    "They said the same thing when I married Preston. You can't let these things affect you." Meredith winced. Kevin knew enough about her own view of her parents' marriage to know that Meredith, at least, thought that was probably true. "Now listen, Kevin. Jack can help you with this."

    "What? Write my statement for me? Why?"

    "Because it's his job," Constance said tartly. "He's not head of PR for MacroCorp for nothing. He has skills; let him help you."

    "No," Kevin said. "I don't want Jack to do it for me. The last thing I need is a PR hack putting words in my mouth." Merry cringed; Kevin glared at her and said, "No offense, Constance, but I'll do it myself, thank you."

    Constance cleared her throat. "Well, fine, Kevin, but really, you should at least have someone screen it."

    "No, Constance. My marriage is not a corporate project. This is my personal life. If I have to say something, I'll say it myself."

    "Mom," Meredith said quickly, "I'll help him with it. Don't worry."

    "No, you won't. I'm not a ventriloquist's dummy."

    "I didn't say you were, Kevin."

    "Um, kids, I have to go now, okay? Just let me know what you decide." Constance cut the connection, and Meredith, with a sigh, turned to Kevin.

    "Just relax. This isn't the end of the world."

    "I'll make my own statement."

    "Fine. Make your own statement. Just don't—Kevin, what are you doing?"

    "Making a call. What does it look like I'm doing?"

    "No," Meredith said. "Not yet. Wait. Wait until you've calmed down and until you can think. Kevin—"

    "ScoopNet," an insanely cheerful voice said over the speakers. "What's the poop?"

    Oh, Goddess. Merry reached out to hit the disconnect button, but Kevin grabbed her wrist, pulled her hand to him to kiss it, and then pushed it away, holding it trapped against her body. She noticed numbly that he held her fist pressing into her abdomen, where a child would have pressed out had she been able to bear one.

    "This is Kevin Lindgren." His voice was as smooth now as it had been tense only minutes before.

    "Confirming voiceprint," the voice said, formal now, wary, and then, "Oh, yes! Yes, sir! What can I do for you, sir?"

    "I wish to make a statement concerning your recent story about my visit to Nicholas."

    Meredith shook her head wildly; Kevin motioned her to silence and squeezed her hand.

    "Yes, sir! Recording, sir."

    Kevin cleared his throat. "Your, ah, sources entirely misunderstood my comments about baby Nicholas. What I actually said is that of course he'll need the most loving home possible to overcome his, ah, traumatic beginnings, and Meredith and I will be delighted to provide it. We both think he's a wonderful, beautiful baby, and we can't wait to take him home. That's all."

    "Thank you, sir!"

    "You're welcome. One more thing: to give the baby time to adjust, and something closer to a normal life than he's had so far, we'll be observing strict privacy protocols. Is that understood?"

    "Of course, sir." Meredith thought she could hear the smirk. "Is that all, sir?"

    "Yes. Good-bye." Kevin hung up, turned to her, and said, "There. You got what you wanted. Are you happy now?"