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normal three-year-old
after his treatments, which are steroids and transfusions. Then he gradually
goes downhill until the next treatment. If he can get a cord blood transplant he'll
lead a normal life, but the odds of finding a match outside the family are slim
to none. Siblings have the best chance for a match, and with Sam and me being
identical twins, the chance of a match from my gene pool is as good as from
Sam's, even if the child doesn't come through Susan."
    Grace stared at
him for a few moments, and from the pinched frown on her brow, he knew she
understood and was mulling it over. Then the frown flattened, and he said, "Don't
expect my baby to be used for this. I'm afraid of flying and I'm not flying to
New Jersey."
    "There's nothing
to flying and there's no risk to the baby," Jack said, knowing it wasn't
the time to press the issue, but frustrated that Grace was unwilling to listen
to reason. "Ricky will die without a transplant, and even though there's
no guarantee of a match from my son, if you don't have him at the hospital in
New Jersey we'll never know. But the doctors think there's a better-than-likely
chance any child I father could be a match."
    "So
because of you I'm expected to fly off to New Jersey to have my child." Grace
folded her arms and glared at him, as if everything was his fault.
    Which pissed
the hell out of Jack. "Look," he said, "let's get one thing
straight. I'm not responsible for getting you pregnant with my child. I didn't
rape you, and I didn't pressure you into having sex with me. You're pregnant
from no fault of mine. But that's my son you're carrying, and Susan's carrying
your husband's son, and there's not a damn thing any of us can do to about
it." He stood and left the room. Trying to reason with the stubborn, inflexible
woman seemed pointless.
    ***
    After storming
out the room and leaving Grace alone for the rest of the evening and the entire
next day, with instructions to Flo to get her whatever she needed, Jack was
back. This time with a couple of plastic shopping bags in his hands. He stood
in the doorway looking in, like he didn't know what to do. Grace could make a
suggestion. Go away and don't come back until she was gone. But she had
something Jack wanted, and he wasn't about to go away, at least not for the next
eighteen years. And Grace felt angry at being boxed in a corner. This was her
child. A baby boy who'd been growing inside her for nearly eight months, and she
didn't want Jack telling her what she should or shouldn't do regarding her baby
and some stem cell transplant.
    There were some redeeming qualities in the man
though. He did care about the baby. But he had to understand that what he
wanted he couldn't have. She would not let him direct her child's life. After
knowing him for only two days, she could see him micromanaging what her son
ate, who he played with, what he watched on TV, and on and on. And she'd have
no control over where Jack took him during visitation. Her divorced friends
were going through that with their ex's and it was hell. And when she got down
to it, Jack was like an ex. A man who'd fathered her child, but was as far
removed from a man she wanted to be married to as any man could be...
    "I got
some things for you," Jack said. "Can I come in?"
    "Sure."
Grace eyed the bags, curious about what Jack might have brought, suspecting
they were filled with baby things. But she already had a nursery set up at her
house with everything the baby needed. What Jack had would be his way of making
a kind of quasi Notice of Intent to Claim
Paternity , like a check for five-hundred dollars.
    Jack walked
over to the bed, and Mei Ling took the opportunity to jump down and weave in
and out of his legs. Jack looked annoyed but didn't try to stop Mei Ling.
    "Just set
the bags on the bed," Grace said when Jack seemed at a loss what to do,
with Mei Ling sashaying in figure eights between his legs. When Jack set the
bags down, Grace noted that they came from a chain