That night, that particular night, after I got shot in the leg by the clip from the cardboard crusher and after we made love. That's when I told Darlene about the unborn child.
We were lying there. After making love. Darlene's face in that hollow of my arm, that place on the front of the shoulder that seems made for heads to be rested in. Darlene's cheek on my pectoral muscle and Darlene's breath when she breathed or spoke warm on my chest. Darlene's arm across my ribcage, where I moved it after it got too heavy on my stomach. My hand on Darlene's arm on my ribcage. Darlene's leg across my leg warm soft heavy. Darlene's come on my penis, mixed with my come, that mixture that dries like a glaze. Darlene's come on my face drying but not leaving a glaze, drying like water dries, fading away to dry. Darlene's smell in my nose and my smell on her cheek. We talked about stuff. Thinking about Darlene in that place inside my arm, thinking about my pectoral muscle, that made me think of Hal.
"Hal didn't make it, huh?" I said.
"No," Darlene said. "Were you good friends?"
"Not really," I said, "He was kind of a jerk. But he shouldn't have had to die."
"It's sad," Darlene said.
"Yeah," I said. My chest pulled in a big breath of air without me thinking about it.
"Coulda been me." I said.
"I'm glad it wasn't you." Darlene said. Her voice was really high and squeaky and I felt her face go round and tense in my shoulder.
"Hey," I said, "I'm okay."
Darlene nodded up and down and sniffed really hard. Then she made a noise in the back of her throat and swallowed.
"How did you get there, anyway?" I said.
Darlene pushed herself up away from my chest. She propped her head on her right hand and pulled a corner of the blanket around to wipe her eyes. Darlene tucked the blanket around herself. Her left foot came over to clamp the edge of my left foot between her big toe and her other toes.
"Well," Darlene said. "I guess somebody called over, and said that there had been an accident with the cardboard crusher. And that a couple of the material handlers were hurt."
Darlene's eyes were shiny, had shiny spots in the dim light. She wiped them with a fold of the blanket.
"And I knew you were a material handler. And nobody knew which ones. So I ran."
"You ran?" I said. "Four blocks?"
I thought of what Darlene would look like running. I remembered Darlene running at the edges of the waves at West Cliff.
"Uh huh." Darlene said.
"And when I got there," Darlene said. "You were passed out on the floor and they were just putting you on the stretcher and Hal..."
Darlene's voice had gotten so high, I couldn't hear it anymore, just saw her lips moving. Drops of tears were falling out of Darlene's eyes. Falling onto the bed. I reached over and caught some of them on the back of my hand.
"It's all right, now." I said.
"...Hal was there and the towel with blood on it and I couldn't look..." Darlene said, right on the verge of speaking out loud.
"It's okay." I said.
"And I thought you were dead, too." Darlene said, "And I thought, 'Of course,' I thought, 'Just when I find someone,' I thought. And when I saw you breathing I thought 'Thank god it's you and not Hal' and then I felt so ashamed..."
Darlene's voice came down in the middle of when she was saying that and sounded almost normal except for the shaking, but then it started going up until it disappeared again and just her mouth made the word ashamed, just her mouth all rolled up from crying.
"Hey, hey," I said. I didn't know what to say.
"It's okay," I said.
"I'm such a bad person." Darlene said, "That was horrible and selfish."
"It's okay," I said, "I think it's kinda natural, a first reaction. In a situation like that, I mean."
Darlene held the fold of the blanket in front of her mouth and looked at me over it. Looked at me over her swollen lower eyelids and dripping tears making a wet spot on the sheets. Darlene's eyes in the dim light just edges with spots of shivering light, looking at me over the blanket and her tears.
"I mean," I said, "I'm really kinda glad it was me and not Hal, myself."
Darlene laughed then, but it didn't sound like a laugh. It was just a short wet throat sound almost like a cough, with a longer sound like a tiny baby cry following.
"I mean," I said, "It woulda been a bummer being dead and knowing it was Hal had that great sex with you tonight."
"Oh, bunny." Darlene said. "Don't be silly. I don't even know Hal."
That was the first time she called me bunny.
Darlene's shoulders were shaking. Her eyes were still wet looking at me over the blanket, but they weren't as tight up anymore. Darlene wiped her eyes with the blanket one more time and then put the blanket down and smoothed it with her hand. Darlene's hand held out stiff with the backs of her fingers up, all her fingers bent up backward so the back of her hand was concave, her knuckles low and her fingertips higher. Darlene smoothed the blanket with that pad part of her hand where all the fingers come in, her little finger standing out a little from the rest, her thumb held stiff and curving back, too. Darlene sucked her lips into her mouth and worked them around a little trying to get her mouth back into shape after crying. Her eyes watched her hand smoothing the blanket.
"I wish my folks were still alive," Darlene said, watching her hand smoothing the blanket.
"Me, too." I said, but I wasn't really sure I did. I guess I didn't really want to meet them. Meeting parents is so hard.
"What happened?" I said. What I knew was they had both died the year before. I thought it was some kind of accident. Car or Plane or something like that.
"Heart trouble," Darlene said. "My mom died of a heart attack, and then my dad died five months later of the same thing."
"I'm sorry," I said.
"It was so sad," Darlene said, "Seeing my dad after my mom died. He just couldn't seem to do anything for himself."
"That's too bad," I said.
"Yeah," Darlene said, "They would have liked you. You look just like my dad."
We were quiet for a while, just lying there near each other in the dim light. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her about the unborn child. I figured then was a good time to tell her. But it was hard. Hard to get started.
"There's something I need to tell you." I said.
"Huh?" Darlene said. She'd been patting the blanket with her hand all stiff and concave. She'd been watched her hand patting the blanket, but not really watching.
"Something I've got to tell you," I said, "But it's not easy."
"Okay," Darlene said.
"I'm not really very proud of it." I said.
"Uh-huh." Darlene said.
"I don't know how to tell you." I said.
"Well," Darlene said, "Usually in cases like this, it's best just to come right out and say it."
"Yeah," I said.
"Will it make me hate you?" Darlene said.
"I hope not." I said.
"Probably not," Darlene said, "Not after today."
"You haven't heard it yet." I said.
"You're stalling," Darlene said.
"Yeah," I said, "You're right. Okay, here goes."
"I'm going to be a father." I said.
"Going to be?" Darlene said. "You're not, yet?"
"Yeah," I said, "In May or June."
"In May or June?" Darlene said.
"Yeah" I said.
"You were married?" Darlene said.
"No." I said.
"Okay," Darlene said.
We didn't say anything for a while.
"You thought this would make me hate you?" Darlene said.
"Well, I wasn't sure," I said.
"I don't hate you." Darlene said.
"Good," I said.
"Want a cigarette?" Darlene said.
Darlene got up on her hands and knees and crawled across the bed that way. She turned on the light by the bed and then looked around for her robe. It was on the floor by the bathroom door. Darlene got out of bed to pick it up and put it on.
"Want some wine?" Darlene said.
"Got any water?" I said. My mouth was dry. I didn't feel like having any wine. My leg was starting to hurt again. It felt swollen.
"Can you get me a cold compress?" I said, as Darlene was walking into the kitchen.
I propped up some pillows on the headboard. Darlene had six pillows on her bed. I guess it had been her parent's bed. The master bedroom. Heavy pleated drapes ran down the wall to the left and across the wall opposite the bed, only there weren't walls behind the drapes, there were floor to ceiling windows that looked out on the deck on the left side and over the little valley behind the house on the side opposite the bed. The wall on the right side had some large oil paintings of rocky landscapes. Over the bed was a large painting of an Indian on black velvet. Darlene's father painted those landscapes and that Indian. The bed took up most of its wall, between two night tables with lamps like from the sixties, big huge ceramic lamps with orange glaze and giant round parchment shades. To the left of the bed as I sat in it was a short hall to the bedroom door to the bigger hall off the kitchen. To the right of the bed as I sat in it was a short hall to the bathroom, a separate bathroom just for this bedroom.
Darlene came back with a glass of wine and a glass of water and a cold compress tucked under her arm and a pack of cigarettes in her mouth. She was walking very carefully. I took the water and the wine. The cold compress slipped out of its towel and fell on the floor and Darlene made a little eek noise and lifted her foot up. I guess it fell against her foot.
After we got the wine and the water and the cold compress and the towel and the cigarettes and the matches and the ashtray all sorted out, we were sitting side by side against the pillows with the covers over our laps and the ashtray, a heavy ceramic ashtray shaped in that sort of space age kidney shape they thought was futuristic in the '60's. It was a dark green color with flecks of brown dripping through it. The ashtray was on our legs between us and we sat there quiet for a while, smoking.
"So," Darlene said. She let out a long cloud of smoke. "You want to tell me about it?"
"About what?" I said. But I knew.
"The baby," Darlene said. "The mother."
"Okay," I said. "I can do that."
So I told her about the house in Massachusetts and the Jack Daniels and the pills Susan said she was taking. I didn't tell her everything. But I told her enough.
* * *
There was a picture of Darlene's mom and dad on their wedding day. Darlene looked just like her mom. I looked a lot like Darlene's dad. After Darlene and I got married, Darlene hung that picture of her mom and dad in the living room. A lot of people thought it was us dressed up in old clothes like for those wild west pictures.
It was spooky.
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