Yes, take him away forever! Why all these formalities? Emma snapped, her voice echoing like a kettle whistling in a foggy London flat.
I forgot to ask you what you expect me to do! Mark replied in the same clipped tone.
If you ever bothered to ask, I wouldn’t be tearing my hair out! Emma retorted.
I’d ask if there was anything to ask about, would you? Mark snorted. Nothing depends on you!
So stop telling me how to act!
You have no conscience, Emma said, hurt flickering in her eyes. Fine, but think about the boy!
And I do think about him, dont I? Mark shouted. In fact, I think about him more than you do!
And not only thinkI provide, I raise, I support!
You can keep threatening that Ill quit my job!
Ill quit! Emma exclaimed. As soon as I find something!
First find something, Mark said, his voice steady as a stone. Then you can open your mouth!
Mark listened to Emmas pained sigh for a minute, then turned back to his packing.
You understand, Jack feels hurt that youre always with Tom, Emma said, unusually calm. And when youre with them, Ive even noticed you give Tom more attention!
Hes older! Theres plenty to discuss with him, and the boys thoughts are already forming!
We must wonder what hell become! Mark answered.
Does your own son no longer interest you? Emma asked.
Hes still a child! By law he needs a mothers care more than a fathers!
So tend to Jack while hes small! And I
Ill spend time with my nephew, Emma finished for her husband. Hear that? With my nephew! While ignoring my own son!
No ones spitting on anyone! Mark grimaced. I give my time to everyone! But our Jack has a father always nearby, and my sister raises her son with my mum, not with a man!
Two women arent what a twelveyearold boy needs!
Tell me, should I show coldness to the way two women are breaking my nephews mind?
Will he ever become a real man?
Mark, shall I call my mother over so youll take an interest in Jack? Emma snarled.
Both of you are out! Mark roared. All Im missing is your mother!
And Jack? Emmas voice turned sharp.
Hell stay with me, of course! You have nothing to give him! Mark grinned wickedly. Did you think Id line up a fairytale life with alimony?
You wont get it! Youll be the one paying me! At least find a job so you dont sit idle!
Emma had to swallow that sting too, because Mark was right. She had nothing left.
All her ambitions had evaporated during the marriage. She never even earned a degree.
Shed taken a maternity leave from university and never returned to the lecture hall.
Mark kept packing in complete silence.
Did you buy all those toys for Tom? Emma asked, breaking the hush. I thought Jack would get something
He already has enough, Mark waved it off, and Tom has no one else to rely on but an uncle!
Both my mother and his are useless! Jack is pitied! Hell be lost with them!
Emma couldnt think of a reply, so she simply moved to help her husband.
Then a greeting card slipped from the stack.
She caught it automatically, opened it, and read the words.
Her eyes widened, and the card fluttered to the floor.
Mark, what does to my beloved son mean?
Who asked you to stick your nose into other peoples business? Mark shouted, pushing Emma away. Always meddling! Leave me alone!
Ill leave, Emma whispered. But what does it mean?
Good heavens, can you be so obtuse? Mark exclaimed. Any sensible woman would have figured it out by now!
And you, drifting in clouds, honestly!
Emma could have been Marks second wife, but fate had set her up as his first.
The girl prophesied to be his first wife never wanted the title. She lived with Mark in a rented flat for about a year, then vanished into an unknown direction. Her parents claimed they never knew where Lucy had gone; friends and acquaintances could not guess her whereabouts.
Mark mourned brieflyactually, not at all. As the old saying goes, Better to be rid of a dead horse than a stubborn mule.
He went on with his life, taking a perverse pleasure in it.
A year later Lucy reappeared, not alone but cradling a baby. Word spread among acquaintances.
She didnt hide that the child was Marks.
Immediately rumors swirled that Lucy would pin Mark against a wall, demand alimony, or even force marriage.
But that wasnt the case.
Lucy came to hand the child over to its father, then disappear into the endless countryside.
Had she handed Mark a bundle, who knows how the story would have ended.
Mark could have calmly taken the child to the baby home, claim hed found it on the street, and Toms fate would have been sealed.
Lucy, however, was cleverer. She placed a basket with the infant on the doorstep of the flat where Marks mother and sister lived, and tucked a tearstained letter inside, pleading she could not care for the childno money, no strength, no means. She confessed to postpartum depression and a serious diagnosis that would require lifelong treatment.
She begged them not to leave the child, the nephew and grandson, behind.
Mark was summoned for clarification.
How should I know? he shrugged. Maybe she roamed somewhere, brought it to you, and you believed her! Well test it, then think!
The test showed the boy was Marks son. Then a long discussion began.
Where do I put the child? What will I do with him, and when? I just started a business! Mark grumbled. I have contracts, meetings, deals!
And I have to work my fingers to the bone because I cant afford a full staff!
What do you propose? Helen, Marks sisterinlaw, exclaimed. Turn my own child over to a childrens home?
Only we know hes our blood, plus Lucy. And Lucy, as far as I can tell, wont show up in this town again! Mark said, shrugging.
Mark, we do know! Helen pressed. How can we live if our own flesh is in a orphanage?
Id survive, Mark muttered. As would you!
You have no conscience, Claire, Marks sister, snapped. Sending a child to a home!
Why are you sticking your nose in? Who asked you? Mark retorted. Dont try to stitch a horses tail onto a donkey!
I would never give my child away! Claire answered. Never!
She was twenty, had begun a relationship, got pregnant, then suffered a miscarriage. A diagnosis followed, telling her she could never have children again, making the subject painful.
Thats nonsense! Helen shook her head. If you hand the child to a home, theyll come back to haunt you! Youll lose everythingbusiness, happiness, even life!
Enough! Mark slammed his fist on the table. Since you all gather here, all righteous and fair, lets do this: Claire will claim the child, Ill find the money, well set everything up. Youll all raise him together, and Ill be the benevolent uncle, helping and taking part in his upbringing!
Help? Claire asked, confused.
Provide! Mark shouted. Got it?
And if you get married? Helen asked.
What changes? Mark shrugged. Ill keep helping my sister with her nephew! Everything will be fine!
Mark could not refuse to send money; he paid honestly and regularly. Yet he himself vanished for three years. When his mother or sister asked, he claimed he was busy with both business and personal life.
Everyone met at a wedding. It left a sour taste, but Mark filled everyones ears with explanations that satisfied the questioning crowd.
So his mother and sister were occupied with the nephew, while Emma, pregnant, tried to study.
When his son, Jack, was born, Mark began to change. He saw his little bloodline grow, but the cries drove him mad, and his thoughts turned to Tom again.
That ones already shouting!
He started visiting his sister and mother to strengthen ties with the nephew.
Fatherly feelings, awakened by Jacks birth, poured more onto Tom because there was a response there.
And Jack Jack always stayed on the sidelines.
Thus eight years passed.
It isnt that Jack was completely starved of fatherly attention; he got his share. Mark thought it was enough, but he gravitated more toward Tom.
Four years is a long stretch for children, a big gap. What you can do with a twelveyearold doesnt suit an eightyearold. And with Tom Mark had already done everything a father should for Jack. So Jack no longer interested him.
Emma saw her son being pushed to the background in favour of the nephew. Of course, resentment, jealousy, irritation, and outrage boiled up, but she could do nothing.
She fell into total financial dependence on her husband. When she thought about work and even began looking, only lowpaid, menial jobs were offered.
She was a businessman’s wife, used to comfort and ease.
I cant be a cleaner or a dishwasher! she protested.
All Emma could manage were a few sharp remarks, hoping Mark would remember their son, or at least give him as much attention as the nephew.
***
So, is this your son? Emma asked, startled. Your own child? Why is your sister raising him?
Yes, Emma, Tom is my son! And Claire isnt his mother, but she raises him as if she were! And Tom already knows she isnt his birth mother! Mark barked. What else do you want from me?
Do you think its easy for me? Back and forth forever!
Emma rubbed her forehead, then lowered her hand to her mouth, took a deep breathgestures of bewilderment and oppression, a sudden awareness of what shed just heard.
Mark, shall we take him in? she said calmly. Let the boys live together! Ill try to be Toms mother.
If he wont accept me, at least the father will always be near, and you wont have to split between sons!
Are you ready to adopt my child? Mark asked, suspicion in his voice.
Why not? Emma shrugged. Im even ready to adopt him!
Emma was being a little sly. She wasnt sure she could truly take anothers child, but thought that with both boys under one roof, Mark would split his time.
She would then strive to give everyone equal love and attention.
Mark thought it over for a week, then decided. He formally acknowledged Tom as his son, and Emma adopted him as promised.
Protect her! Helen urged Mark. Shes a holy woman! Another would have sent you to the devil! She understood, forgave, and accepted!
Seeing his wifes deed, Mark looked at her with new eyes, love and gratitude shining through.
Tom accepted Emma. He didnt call her Mum right away; it took a whole year.
Eventually, it became an ordinary, happy family.
