19

Jack and Laura were permitted to see Sunny in the evening. It wasn’t the usual hospital procedure, but Sunny wasn’t the usual hospital case, and Settick had arranged a few privileges for her. Anything that would keep her spirits high was granted, and the Manns were near the top of her list.

When they arrived, she had just wakened from a long nap and was talking intimately to Page. She looked beautiful in spite of the harsh burn on her face when she turned to greet them, and Laura felt a catch in her throat as she bent to kiss Sunny’s cheek.

Sunny took her hands with affection and thanked Jack for nursing Page through the delivery.

“You look great, honey,” Jack said. “And so does the baby.”

“Does he?” She beamed. “They won’t let me see him till tomorrow. He can’t be moved tonight and I can’t get out of bed.”

Jack and Laura obligingly launched into friendly praises of little Pringle, talking with the comfortable closeness of long acquaintance, until Jack finally said, “I can’t wait any longer, Page. I have to ask. What did you do about the Rothelis? Did you tell them who you are?”

It was Sunny who answered him. “When they came in this afternoon they were so happy, so relieved,” she said.

* * *

Her parents had chatted with her and Page for a little while. Sunny was tired but full of Demerol, a synthetic derivative of morphine, that made her unnaturally talkative. Her parents didn’t keep her long—just enough to reassure themselves she was all right. Before they left, Ben asked what they planned to name the baby.

Sunny and Page drew a blank. They hadn’t talked about it since the happy night Sunny revealed her pregnancy to Page and he suggested calling the child Ben, after her father. After that they dropped the subject as if to mention it was to put a hex on the child.

Sunny, thinking fast, said, “‘Baby Boy Pringle,’ just like on the card,” and they laughed. But Page broke in and took over.

“We’re going to call him Roger, Ben,” he said.

And the laughter stopped abruptly. Ben looked at his son-in-law with disbelief at first and then a slow grateful smile spread over his face. He put his arms around Page and gave him a bearhug that made Page groan and chuckle all at once.

“My God!” Ben exclaimed, savoring it at last. “It’ll be like a chance to watch our own Roger grow up. You have no idea how much they look alike. Page, you didn’t do this just for us? You don’t have to bribe us to babysit, you know.”

“I did it for all of us, Ben,” Page said.

And Ben, oppressed suddenly with the memory of his first son, went to Sunny’s bedside. “I want you to understand something, honey,” he told his daughter. “There’s something your mother and I never told you. Right now, with everything happening the way it is—I feel as if you ought to know. It’s about our Roger. You see, he—didn’t die when he was a baby. We had to give him out for adoption.”

He threw June a hasty glance to see how she was taking it, but she nodded at him to go on.

Sunny, taken aback at the confession and wanting to make it easier for her father, said at once, “I know, Dad.” And bit her lip, realizing too late that in his view, she couldn’t possibly know.

“You know?” he repeated, shocked.

“I mean—you never said he died, Dad. You only said you lost him. Never in all these years did you tell us he died. Chuckie and I figured out years ago that something else might have happened to him.”

Ben stood gazing irresolutely at her for a minute until June said, “It was done through our doctor. He gave Roger to a fine family. A man and his wife who’d wanted a son for years and could never have one of their own. We never knew them, but the doctor told us they were wonderful generous people and they’d bring him up with love. That was the most important thing.”

“Yes, of course,” Sunny said softly. She was afraid she would start crying if she said any more.

“We had to do it, Sunny,” Ben said. “Your mother—”

“I know, Dad.”

“It was the only tragic mistake I think we ever made in our marriage,” Ben went on. “We’ll never stop wondering where he went, what happened to him. But in a way I think it’s just as well we don’t know. He might not want to know us, he might resent us, he might even disappoint us. I wish him much happiness, wherever he is. But now that we have Page in the family....” He smiled at him. “We’ve got a son.”

For a moment Sunny felt the shattering confession close to the surface, and she watched Page tensely, holding her breath. But Page had seen his parents looking at his own son a little while before, and he knew he was as close to them as he would ever be. The desire to confront them with the truth had dissipated when they were confronted instead with his child. He would never tell them now.

* * *

“Then they never really lost Roger at all,” Laura said softly. “I’m so glad, Sunny. So awfully glad.”

“Have the Pringles seen the baby yet?” Jack asked.

“June and Ben are going over to their place tomorrow for lunch. It’ll be their first meeting,” Page told him. “Looks like you called things right, Jackson.”

Jack ignored the compliment. “Are you planning to go back to New York one of these days?” he said.

“Damn right,” Page said. “I don’t know what the Sunday Magazine will want to do about me. But I know what I want to do: stay in that town and write.”

“Alone?” Jack said, glancing at Sunny.

“Are you kidding? With three mouths to feed instead of two?”

And Sunny laughed at him the way she used to when Page was courting her, and kissed his hand.

* * *

“What if they lose little Roger?” Laura asked Jack going down in the elevator at the close of visiting hours.

“They won’t, if sheer love can keep him alive,” Jack said. “If not ... it’ll be bad, but they’ll have each other. And I have the feeling Page is willing now to have more children, whatever happens.”

“Do you think they’ll be happy?”

“Do you doubt it?” he said.

“Page is a funny guy, Jack. He never actually said she was his wife now, in so many words. And a scandal could still hurt him.”

“Could hurt anybody, sweetie,” Jack said, putting a hand on her neck and tickling it lightly. “But not half as much as a divorce. I think they could face a scandal all right, if they ever had to.”

Laura turned to smile at him. “Well, they’ll never have to on my account,” she said. “No one will ever get that story out of me.”

He knew she was scolding him gently and he said, “You mean ‘Mr. Winkler’? He was Page’s step-father, honey—George Pringle.”

Her mouth fell open and he hugged her as the elevator door opened on the ground floor, laughing at her surprise.

“The elder Pringles are not fools, after all,” he said. “And neither are the younger Pringles. They’ll make it.”

THE END of an Original Gold Medal Novel by Ann Bannon

Blood of the Grape

ROSE was old before she was thirty, searching for the right man but a sucker for the wrong one.

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The original spelling was mostly preserved. A few obvious typographical and punctuation errors as well as variations in hyphenation were silently amended. All other changes are shown here (before/after):

... huge picture window looking out on Lake Michigan. Sunny ... ... a huge picture window looking out on Lake Michigan. Sunny ...

... “You rather have the baby than me, is that it?” he said ... ... “You’d rather have the baby than me, is that it?” he said ...

... and earful of Page’s escapades over the years and never ... ... an earful of Page’s escapades over the years and never ...

... “Am it talking as if I didn’t?” ... ... “Am I talking as if I didn’t?” ...

... restrained at first, but Laura’s warmth and concern shined ... ... restrained at first, but Laura’s warmth and concern shone ...

... him because he’s damn fairy!” ... ... him because he’s a damn fairy!” ...

... he ushered Page inside ahead of him, talking off his hat ... ... he ushered Page inside ahead of him, taking off his hat ...

... thumping the rear fender as he shoved to his feet. “Before ... ... thumping the rear fender as he shoved himself to his feet. “Before ...

... He shook his head, talking her in his arms. She half-collapsed ... ... He shook his head, taking her in his arms. She half-collapsed ...

... underneath it, till we’ve got more share here,” he said. ... ... underneath it, till we’ve got more shade here,” he said. ...

... “You still think you’re going to tell them you are?” ... ... “You still think you’re going to tell them who you are?” ...

... “You know what about,” Jack simply. “I wouldn’t ... ... “You know what about,” Jack said simply. “I wouldn’t ...

... Vin Packer ... ... Ann Bannon ...