Blood Test

“Well,” he said, between mouthfuls, “I may be totally off base here, Doctor, but it seems to me that this Japanese thing puts a new perspective on your — pardon the expression — relationship.”

“How so?”

“Like for the past couple of years, you’ve been the one with the bread, right? She makes a living, but the life the two of you’ve been leading — Maui, theater tickets, that incredible garden — who pays for it?”

“I don’t get the point,” I said, annoyed.

“The point is that despite your pretending it ain’t so, you guys have had a traditional setup. Now she’s got the chance to become a big shot and it could all change.”

“I can handle it.”

“Sure you can. Forget I brought it up.”

“Consider it forgotten.” I looked down at my plate. All of a sudden my appetite was gone. I pushed the food away and fixed my gaze on a flock of gulls raiding the pier for bait scraps. “You insightful bastard,” I said. “Sometimes you’re spooky.”

He reached across the table and patted my shoulder. “Hey, you’re not a very subtle guy. Everything registers on that lean and hungry face.”

I rested my chin in my hands. “Things were going along so nice and simple. She kept the studio after she moved in, we prided ourselves on giving each other room to move. Lately we’d started talking marriage, babies. It was great, both of us moving at the same pace, mutual decisions. Now,” I shrugged, “who knows?” I took a long swallow of the Dutch brew. “I’ll tell you, Milo, they don’t cover it in the psych books, but there’s such a thing as the paternal urge and at thirty-five I’m feeling it.”

“I know,” he said. “I’ve felt it, too.”

My stare was involuntary.

“Don’t look so surprised. Just because it’s never gonna happen doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.”

“You never can tell. They’re getting pretty liberal.”

He loosened his belt a notch and buttered a piece of bread. “Not that liberal.” He laughed. “Besides, Rick and I are not equiped for motherhood or whatever you wanna call it. Can’t you just see it — me shopping at Toys “я” Us and Dr. Fastidious changing diapers?”

We shared a good laugh over that.

“Anyway,” he said, “I didn’t mean to bring up a sore point, but it’s something you’re gonna have to deal with. I did. For most of my life I made my own way. My parents didn’t give me squat. I’ve been working at one dodge or another since eleven, Alex. Paper routes, tutoring, picking pears, construction, a little time out for the M.A., then Saigon and the force. You don’t get rich in Homicide, but a single guy can get by nicely. I was lonely as hell but my needs were met. After I met Rick and we started living together, it all changed. You remember my old Fiat — piece of shit that it was. I never drove anything but garbage and unmarkeds. Now we tool around in that Porsche like a pair of coke dealers. And the house — no way I could ever have had a place like that on my salary. He goes shopping at Carrols or Giorgio, picks me up a shirt or tie. I’m not a — kept man, but my lifestyle has changed. For the better, but that hasn’t made it easy to accept. Surgeons make more than cops, always have, always will, and I’ve finally accommodated myself to it. Makes you stop and think about what women go through, huh?”

“Yup.” I wondered if Robin had been faced with the type of adjustment he’d described. Had there been a struggle that I’d been too insensitive to notice?

“In the long run,” he said, “it’s better if both parties feel like adults, don’t you think?”

“What I think, Milo, is that you’re an amazing guy.”

He hid his embarrassment behind the menu. “If I remember correctly the ice cream is good, right?”

“Right.”

Over dessert he had me tell him more about Woody Swope and childhood cancer. He was shocked, like most people, that it was the second most common cause of death in children; only accidents kill more.

The mechanics of the Laminar Airflow rooms particularly fascinated him and he asked me detailed, analytical questions until my fund of answers was exhausted.

“Months in that plastic box,” he said, troubled. “And they don’t freak out?”

“Not if it’s handled right. You’ve got to orient the child to time and space, encourage the family to spend as much time there as possible. You sterilize favorite toys and clothes and bring them in, provide lots of stimulation. The key is to minimize the difference between home and hospital — there’s always going to be some, but you can buffer it.”

“Interesting. You know what I’m flashing on, don’t you?”

“What’s that?”

“AIDS. Same principle, right? Lowered resistance to infection.”

“Similar but not identical,” I said. “The laminar airflow filters out bacteria and fungi in order to protect the kids during treatment. But the loss of immunity is temporary — after chemotherapy’s over, their systems rebound. AIDS is permanent and AIDS victims have other problems — Kaposi’s Sarcoma, viral infections. The modules might protect them for a while, but not indefinitely.”