"But all I want to do is pin a pretty flower on a pretty lady," he said.
"Don't touch me," she repeated. "If you do, I'll call security!"
Without a word, still smiling, he turned deftly on his heel and stooped to pin a flower on a young man in army uniform seated nearby. The soldier, accepting the cheap paper flower, reached into his pocket for a donation, and she felt somehow stingy and uncomfortable. It was then she noticed a distinguished, turbaned Indian gentleman to her right. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I guess the original Hari Krishna was Indian, and I apologize for my rudeness. It's just that they make me so angry!"
The Indian gentleman smiled. "I thought you were absolutely magnificent!" he said. "I have no respect for the Hari Krishnas. But why do the authorities permit them to harass airport travelers so?"
"Oh, they were banned from the airport," she said, "but they took it to court and the law said they had to be allowed to solicit here. It was a violation of their religious rights, or something like that."
The Indian gentleman nodded. "I see," he said. "You know, you Americans have a marvelous country, full of wonderful rights, but take care that your rights do not someday destroy you."
Over the P.A. system, the arrival of Dave's plane was announced. Taking leave of the gentleman, she arose and positioned herself opposite the door to the gate. She could hardly wait to see his handsome face again! In four days they would be married.
That was fifteen years ago.
..........
Dave was already home from the office and waiting for her when she returned from her appointment. "The doctor said no," she said. "He won't advise it another time. He refuses to refer me. She threw her purse across the room and slumped onto the couch.
"Why?" Dave asked, coming to sit beside her. He put his arms around her.
"He said I wasn't successful in carrying the last two in-vitros to term, and he
thinks that, besides being expensive, another unsuccessful try would be psychologically and physically damaging to me. Like wanting a child so badly and not being able to have one is NOT psychologically and physically damaging, I suppose?"
He held her closer. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said.
...........
The lady from the agency was optimistic. "The mother says her boyfriend won't marry her, so she wants to put the baby up for adoption. You would pay her expenses, of course, and you could be there at the birth. That way, you two will be able to bond with the baby right away. She and her doctor want to meet with you."
"Oh, Dave!" Carrie said. She turned to the agency lady. "I never dared hope we'd be chosen for adoption!"
"Well," the lady said, "the fact that you are both in your forties usually presents a problem as far as adoption is concerned, but everything else checks out great..... character references, education, housing, income. I don't anticipate any difficulty. Besides, the baby will be bi-racial; the boyfriend is black. These babies are harder to place. The mother says that if she and the father were married, she would keep the child, but that it would be too hard for her as a single white parent to raise a black child."
"It's okay for a white woman to sleep with a black man," Dave asked, "but not okay to raise a black child?"
Fearful that he would jeopardize the deal, Carrie put a restraining hand on his arm. "Dave, please!
..........
He was a beautiful, healthy boy, and Carrie loved him even before he was placed in her arms. At the birth mother's request, they agreed to name him Emmanuel, after his Muslim father. "We'll call him Manny," Carrie said happily. "Oh, Dave, isn't he wonderful!"
At first Carrie had been afraid to give herself over to complete happiness, being uneasy until their first year as a threesome would be over and the adoption final, but as day tumbled after day, she began to relax and enjoy motherhood. It doesn't get any better than this! she thought.
One morning, when Manny was almost a month old, the phone rang. Carrie shifted him from her arms and balanced him expertly on her hip and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
It was the lady from the agency. "Hello, dear," she said gently. "I have just received terribly distressing news." Carrie's heart skipped a beat. "It's so hard for me to have to tell you, but Emmanuel's father has decided he will marry the birth mother after all. She wants her baby back."
"No!" Carrie shouted. "She can't have him back! He's MY baby!"
The lady's voice was low and sad. "I'm afraid we have no choice, Carrie, dear. It's the birth mother's right to change her mind any time within the first year. Carrie, I'm truly, truly sorry, but I can do nothing."
"But it's not fair!" Carrie screamed into the receiver. "He's MY baby!"
..........
One person's Right is often another person's Wrong. The Indian gentleman had called it like it is.