Part 19 (2/2)
Ali left, but Dana didn't immediately act on her discoveries. Hugh wanted her father found immediately, but for her, those old ambivalent feelings were strong. And, besides, Dorothy was due to arrive.
She was tucking the envelope in the pocket of her jeans when the doorbell rang, and the next hour was truly pleasant. Dana shouldn't have been surprised. One on one, she had always enjoyed her mother-in-law. The surprise-given what had happened in the hospital the week before-was the genuine delight Dorothy found in the baby. There was no standoffishness, no handling Lizzie like she was a stranger's child, no withholding of the affection that Dana had seen her show Robert's kids. Her gift too-matching hand-painted anoraks for Dana and Lizzie-was unusually sensitive.
Dorothy insisted on holding Lizzie for all but the time the baby was nursing. It was only when she was about to leave, handing Lizzie back to Dana but keeping a hand on the child's head as if reluctant to sever the touch, that she mentioned that day the week before.
”I want you to know,” she said, ”how sorry I am about what happened at the hospital. You get settled into a certain social circle and start acting a certain way, and you don't think twice about it because everyone else around you behaves exactly the same way. But it's not who I am, certainly not who I was raised to be. I wasn't born a sn.o.b. Being a Clarke for so long now, there are just certain expectations...” Her voice trailed off.
What could Dana say? That it was all right? That being a Clarke justified poor behavior?
Given how raw she felt on that score, all she could do was to ask, ”Do you doubt that Hugh is her father?”
”Of course not,” Dorothy scoffed, still touching the baby. ”Even if I couldn't see it with my own two eyes, which I can, I knew deep down that you wouldn't be with anyone but Hugh. You're a good woman, Dana. A good mother. You know, I was wrong before Lizzie was born when I insisted you needed a baby nurse. That was how we did it, but I've had time to think about it, and you don't need help. You lost your own mother, so you want to be there as much as possible for your own daughter. I understand. Mothers want certain things. They dream that their family will be united and loving, and that isn't always possible. But Eaton's book party is coming up, and I desperately want everyone from the family there, especially you and Hugh. If you don't have a babysitter, then I want you to bring Lizzie with you-and I don't care what Eaton says.”
Dana realized it was the first time since Dorothy had come that she had said her husband's name.
”Does he know you're here?”
”Oh yes,” Dorothy said, then stopped short, met Dana's eyes, and raised her chin. ”No. Actually, he does not. He's a stubborn man, and it's not only with you and Hugh and this little girl. He picked a fight with his brother, so they're not talking, and now Bradley is taking it out on Robert, so Robert is angry with Eaton and with me, because he thinks I ought to be able to talk sense into my husband. But isn't this ridiculous. Here I am stealing out of the house to buy a gift for my newest grandchild. I charged it on my own credit card. Did you know I had one?”
Dana had to smile. ”No, I didn't.”
”Well, I do. I'm not a total fool.”
Watching her drive away a few minutes later, Dana remembered the dream she had had moments before her water broke. In it, Dorothy had been the critic who found Dana lacking. Now Dana wondered if she had misinterpreted that. An argument could be made that Dorothy was there in the dream to help her out.
Dana had taken the phone off the hook and was napping on the family room sofa when Hugh arrived home.
”Hey,” he said gently.
She bolted up, a.s.suming Lizzie was crying. When she realized it was Hugh, hunkered down beside her, she responded with a smile. She would have touched his cheek, had she not noticed his smug expression.
”The lab faxed me the test results. No doubt about it, Lizzie's mine.” He patted his s.h.i.+rt pocket. ”This is proof, Dee. It will silence my family.”
Dana sat up.
”I bought the cutest little onesie,” he went on. ”And these for you.”
She saw a bouquet of roses, the same mix of colors he had strewn in the nursery when she had first learned she was pregnant. The memory was bittersweet.
She took a deep breath to rouse herself fully from sleep. Then she said, ”Thank you.”
”Now, there's enthusiasm.”
Dana went over to the ba.s.sinet. The baby was still asleep. She raised her eyes to the sea and wondered what her mother would say about turning down flowers. Ungrateful? Rude?
”Is this sleep deprivation?” Hugh asked.
She looked back. ”This what?”
”b.i.t.c.hiness.” He was still squatting and holding the cellophane-wrapped bouquet.
”Not sleep deprivation. Dismay. Am I supposed to be happy that your test proved something that was never in doubt?”
His eyes were probing. ”I thought you'd be pleased to be able to put the issue to rest.”
”Hugh,” she said with an exasperated sigh, ”the test isn't the point. It was your doing it.”
”But I had to. Try to see it from my side.” He stood up.
”No, you try to see it from my side,” she countered. She didn't know if it was Dorothy's visit that gave her strength, but she refused to back off. ”What we had before all this was special. Before I met you, I never dated super-rich guys, because I didn't trust them not to use and then discard me.”
He made a dismissive sound. ”No guy would do that.”
”I grew up in this town,” she argued. ”I saw it happen more than once. There were the super-rich, and then there were the rest of us. We were playthings of the super-rich. Take Richie Baker. We called him The Spoiler, because his goal was to deflower virgins. As soon as he'd slept with one, he dumped her, and who's he married to now? One of the super-rich. I learned to avoid guys like you. And then suddenly all that caution didn't make sense, because everything about you-everything-spoke of decency and trust. Did I ever ask about women you'd dated before me? No, because they were irrelevant, because I knew that you felt differently about me.”
”I did. I do.”
To his credit, he looked concerned. She wanted to think he was finally hearing her.
”I know you did. You loved what was different about me. Only now you're not so sure if it was an illusion, just like my being white was apparently an illusion.”
”You're confusing the issues.”
”Okay. Go back to the paternity test. You needed an answer, and that was the quickest way to get one. Well, now you have the results. Will you call your dad? Your uncle? Your brother? Will you call your basketball buddies? Will you tell David he's in the clear?” She took a quick breath. ”Don't you see, Hugh? Using this information now is as insulting to me as your running the test in the first place.”
”Hey. Give me some credit. I won't start calling people with these test results.”
”You mean you'll only tell them if they ask? Like, the next time someone makes a joke about Lizzie's color, you'll say you ran a paternity test and know that Lizzie is yours?” She raced on. ”Well, if we've established that you are Lizzie's father, that means I'm African American. That's taking some getting used to on my part.”
Hugh didn't say anything.
She went on. ”I keep wondering if this business about David and the paternity test was just a smokescreen, so that you wouldn't have to face the truth. Well, your family may be glad to know that our baby is legitimate, but now they're going to have to deal with my heredity. You will, too. Maybe all of your balking has to do with that.”
”Balking?”
”Doubting. My being with David. My being irresponsible in not tracking my father sooner than this. Are you less trusting of me because I'm not purebred white? Do you want to stay married to me?”
”Don't be ridiculous, Dana.”
”What kind of answer is that?” she asked. ”I'm talking about our marriage, Hugh. Can we find a way to get back to where we were?”
”Yes,” he snapped, ”but not until we get to the truth. Let's find your father-”
Dana interrupted. ”Where's your whiz Lakey?”
<script>