'Have you thought about the baby?' Susan said.
'By which I assume you don't mean Pearl,' I said.
'That's right,' Susan said. 'I don't.'
I took in a lot of air and let it out slowly. 'I think it would be a mistake,' I said.
'Um hmm,' Susan said.
'I think we have reached maturity without children and that a baby at this point would very seriously compromise us.'
'Why do you think so?' Susan said.
'A kid's a lot of work,' I said.
'You're not afraid of work,' Susan said. 'Neither am I.'
'Oh hell, Suze, I know that. I just don't want a kid, and I'm trying to think of good reasons why I don't.'
'Do you mind sharing me?'
'Yes.'
'Is it more than that?'
'Yes.'
'Do you know what it is?'
'No.'
'Maybe you will,' she said.
The way I loved her never varied. But how I liked her could go up and down, and it went down most when she was being professional. I drank a little more beer.
'How come you want a kid?' I said.
She smiled.
'The old switch-the-conversation trick,' she said.
I nodded.
'I guess I want to have the experience,' she said. 'I guess I miss participating in what so many women have done.'
'Don't blame you.'
'I know in some ways that sounds selfish, that it's about me, and how I'll feel, not about the still-anonymous baby and how he or she will feel.'
'That would be true for anyone having a baby,' I said. 'Even the old-fashioned way. Until you have it, it's always about you.'
'I suppose so.'
We were quiet. The musicians were playing in the courtyard, but we couldn't really hear them through the insulating glass of the windows and above the chatter of the bar, now full of people glad to be out of work. Some friends of Susan's came by. Susan introduced us.
'Bill and Debbie Elovitz.'
They said hello. I said hello. They talked to Susan. I drank some beer. After they had moved on, Susan said, 'They have children.'
'How nice,' I said.
'I feel a little scared about this,' Susan said, 'as if maybe this could hurt us.'
I shook my head.
'We'll figure it out,' I said.
'But how can we?' Susan said. 'You can't partially adopt a baby. We either do or we don't. One of us loses. Either way.'
'We've dealt with worse,' I said. 'We'll deal with this.'
'How?'
'I don't know. But I know that we love one another and will love one another if we do adopt a baby and will love one another if we don't.'
Susan looked past me for a while at the crowd in the courtyard, listening so reasonably to the music. Then she shifted her glance back on me and put her hand on my hand where it rested on the bar.
'We will,' she said. 'Won't we?'
'Yes,' I said. 'We will.'
Chapter 11
TROOPER TOMMY MILLER had a blond crew cut and a thick neck and looked like he might have played tackle for Iowa. He came into my office wearing plainclothes, didn't shut the door behind him, took a seat in one of my client chairs, and put one spit-shined cordovan shoe up on the edge of my desk.
