Sing You Home

“But this was a consent form. Like when you have anesthesia and they make you sign something just before you go under. All we wanted to do was have a baby. I figured we had to check off all the boxes if we were even going to be considered.”

Angela raises her brows. “So you didn’t read through the whole thing?”

“It was twenty pages long!”

Angela closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Great. Fabulous.”

“How long could this postpone the judge’s decision?” I ask. “That could affect the embryos, too.”

“He might be incredibly speedy,” Angela says. “He might just follow the damn contract and be done with it by nine-fifteen tomorrow morning. This certainly gives him an easy out, a legal precedent to follow. And it wouldn’t hurt his reputation any to have his judgment compared to the judgment of Solomon.” She stands and grabs her briefcase. “I’m outta here. I have a shitload to do before tomorrow morning.”

As the door closes behind her, Zoe buries her face in her hands. “We were so close,” she whispers.

Dara leans down to kiss the crown of Zoe’s head. “You need something to eat,” she says. “There is very little in this world that Oreos cannot solve.”

She goes to forage in a vending machine downstairs. Meanwhile I rub Zoe’s back, feeling utterly helpless. “Who the fuck is Solomon?” I ask.

A small laugh bubbles up from Zoe’s throat. “Really?”

“What? Is he some famous lawyer or politician I should know?”

She sits up, wiping her eyes. “He was a biblical king. Super smart. When two women came to him with a baby, each claiming to be the mom, Solomon suggested cutting the baby in two with a sword so they could each have a piece. One woman got hysterical and said she’d rather give up the baby than kill it, and that’s how Solomon figured out who was the real mother.” Zoe hesitates. “I’d do that, you know. I’d give Max these embryos before I’d let them be destroyed.” She wipes her eyes. “You would have been such a fantastic mom, Vanessa.”

“It ain’t over till it’s over,” I reply.

I say this, because it’s what Zoe needs to hear.

But I’m already missing something I never even had.

16 MAX

When I come upstairs to the kitchen the next morning, Wade Preston is pouring maple syrup on a waffle. He looks well rested and sharp, which is more than I can say for me. I don’t think I got five minutes of sleep last night. Then again, I’m sure Wade has minions to do his legal research for him. He probably watched Leno and called it a night.

“Morning, Max,” Wade says. “I was explaining contract law to Reid, here.”

I smell mango and mint, like summertime, as Liddy leans over me to set a plate down. She is wearing a bathrobe. All the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

I wonder briefly why Wade is explaining his legal strategy to my brother instead of me. “If the old goat decides to follow the letter of the contract,” Wade says, “I can mobilize every pro-life group in this country. He’ll retire in the middle of the biggest shitstorm imaginable. He knows I’ve got that kind of pull, which leads me to believe that he’ll think twice before giving his ruling.”

“Then again,” Reid says, “if the church is the victim in this, it puts us in a very sympathetic light.”

I look at him. “Not the church.”

“I beg your pardon?” Wade asks.

“Not the church. Me. These are my embryos. My pre-born children.”

“Now, Max.” Wade takes a long sip of coffee, staring at me over the rim of his mug. “Don’t let the judge hear talk like that. You have no attachments here. These babies are destined to belong to your brother and his wife.”

There is a clatter in the sink. Liddy has dropped a spoon. She places it on the dish rack and turns to find us all staring at her. “I need to get dressed,” she says, and she leaves the kitchen without meeting my gaze. While Wade continues talking, I stare at the sunlight that fills the space where she stood.

Pastor Clive is missing. Today, of all days, when I could have used his support in the courtroom, the seat he’s always taken directly behind me is conspicuously empty.

I imagine Zoe is feeling the same way. Because it’s 9:05 and court’s in session and her lawyer is MIA.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Angela Moretti shouts, bursting through the double doors. Her blouse is untucked, and she’s wearing sneakers with her suit instead of heels. There is a smudge on her cheek that could be jam or blood. “Kid fed bacon to the minivan CD player,” she explains. “Sorry for the holdup.”

“You may begin anytime, Counselor,” Judge O’Neill says.

Angela sifts through her briefcase. She pulls out a SpongeBob coloring book, a Cooking Light magazine, and a novel before locating her brief. “Your Honor, there’s only one case in this country where a consent form like the one the Baxters signed was actually enforced. In Kass v. Kass, both parties signed forms that stated in the event of divorce, if they were unable to agree on the placement of their embryos, the clinic would dispose of the embryos, and a court upheld that agreement. If the parties were willing to be bound to the agreement back then, the court reasoned, they could enforce it now. However, the rest of the cases in this country regarding embryo donation-and they’re a slim group-rule primarily in favor of the party wishing to avoid procreation. In Davis v. Davis, the mother originally wanted the embryos but then decided to donate them-and that tipped the court in favor of the father, who did not wish to become a parent. The court said that, if there had been a contract, it would be upheld-but if not, you have to balance the rights of the party wishing to be a parent with those of the party that does not. In A.Z. v. B.Z. in Massachusetts, forms filled out gave the wife use of embryos in the case of divorce or separation. However, the ex-husband sought an injunction against allowing her to use them. The court said that the contract that had been filled out was trumped by a person’s choice, post-divorce, to not procreate. Namely, although a contract did exist, the circumstances had changed so drastically from the time of signing it that enforcement wouldn’t be legitimate. Plus, the court said that, as a matter of public policy, it was wrong to enforce an agreement that would compel one of the donors to become a parent against his or her will.”

Angela buttons her suit jacket. “In the case of J.B. v. M.B. in New Jersey, there was a contract stating that, in the event of divorce, embryos would be destroyed. By the time the divorce occurred, the ex-wife wanted them destroyed, but the ex-husband now said that was a violation of his religious beliefs and his right to become a parent. The court did not uphold the contract-not because they felt it was contrary to public policy, as in Massachusetts, but because a person had a right to change his mind up till the point of use or destruction of the embryos. The contract had to be a formal, unambiguous record of the intent of both parties, and since that wasn’t the case, the court said the party wishing not to have children would prevail, since the father could go on to have children in the future.”

She turns to look at Zoe. “The difference between those cases and this case, Your Honor, is that neither party wishes to destroy these embryos. For different reasons, both Zoe and Max want them. Yet, as in those other cases, there is a prevalent theme throughout which is applicable here, Your Honor: when there’s a change of circumstances from the time that the consent form is signed-due to divorce or remarriage or religious beliefs-then a contract is no longer legally binding. Today-when both parties want to give these embryos a chance at life-for you to enforce a contract that is no longer relevant would simply be bad case law.”

There is a racket at the back of the courtroom. I turn and see Pastor Clive barreling down the aisle. His face is nearly as white as his suit. He leans over the gallery railing, between Ben Benjamin and me, as Wade stands up.