Family Values

September 1986

Martin Chalmers sat at his desk in the political science department of the University of South Florida, reading a less then average description of the United States Government. He had assigned the paper two weeks prior, and expected something much better than a high school civics essay. He glared at the name at the top of the paper.

“Well, Miss Daniels,” he muttered as he wrote 50% beside her name in his grade book, “perhaps you’ll spend more time on your class work, and less time hanging upside with your mouth around the spout of a keg.”

A light knock at his door drew his attention from Miss Daniels’s abysmal essay. His eyes brightened when he saw Helen Marx standing in his doorway. She was a credit to her name sake; Helen of Troy whose face launched a thousand ships. Martin stood, moved around his desk, and opened his arms to her. Helen closed the door to his office, and rushed into his welcoming embrace. As he embraced her, he felt her body tremble, and heard the unmistakable heaving breath of sobbing. Oh hell, he thought as he released her, and held her at arms-length.

“What is wrong, Helen dear?”

“I…” she began, and then burst into tears.

“There, there, Helen.” Martin eased her down into one of the chairs in front of his desk. He offered her the hankerchief from the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “Calm down, and tell me what is wrong.”

“I’m pregnant!” Helen wailed. “What am I going to do Martin? Joshua isn’s coming back from his business trip until November of next year! The doctor says the baby is due in June of next year, and… and…” her words were swallowed by more hysterical sobbing.

Martin folded his arms over his broad chest, and stared down at her with brown, stone eyes. “Why are you coming to me with this, Helen?”

Helen’s ceased her hysterical crying, and looked up at him through watery eyes. Typical woman, Martin thought as he stared down at her. You allow her to indulge in one night of passion and suddenly you’re the bad guy.

“It’s yours, Martin,” Helen stated. “You’re the only one I’ve had in my bed since Josh left.”

“Is that so?” Martin asked. “If you recall Helen I used a condom.”

“Well, it must have broken,” Helen insisted. “I’m eight weeks along, Martin. We had sex exactly eight weeks ago!”
“Keep your voice down, Helen.” Martin warned. “Unless you want to have the entire political science department know that you are a cheating whore.”

“Martin!” Helen gasped clutching her hand to her bosom.

He moved back to the other side of his desk, and rummaged in his front draw until he found his check book. He opened it a filled out a check for what he figured was the going rate for an abortion these days. He tore the check out of the book, walked back around to stand in front of Helen, and held the check out to her.

“What is this for?” Helen asked taking the check from him.

“You are to take care of this, Helen.” Martin instructed. “There is a clinic on the other side of Tampa where you can register anonymously. I would suggest you do it sooner rather than later.”

He pulled her to her feet, opened his office door, and pushed her unceremoniously into the hall. When she turned to object he slammed the door in her face, and locked it. The last thing he heard was her heals clicking on the lenolium floor as she retreated from his door.

. . .

The next morning, after cashing the check Martin gave her, Helen drove to the clinic on the other side of town. She sat in her car, and stared at the large brick building with the sign proclaiming “Planned Parenthood”. There were women standing near the entrance holding signs proclaiming a child’s right to be born. Some even held babies that Helen was pretty sure were their own. She sighed guiltily. It had not been that long ago that she had done something similar with her two-year-old son Joshua. She had hassled many frightened teenage girls, and young women who were probably there for the same reason she was. A tap at her window brought her out of her wallowing. She looked up to see a blond haired young man who wore a name tag that simply read “Aaron”. Helen rolled down her window.

“Good morning, Miss,” Aaron smiled politely at her. “Can I escort you inside, so that they don’t give you too much trouble?”

“Oh, um, no thank you,” Helen answered softly. “I’m not sure I can do this.”

“There are people inside who can talk to you about your options,” Aaron offered.

Helen looked up into his concerned brown eyes. He truly wanted to help her. She rested her hand on her still flat stomach.

“Why do you want to help me?” She asked. “Do you understand what I’m considering doing?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “but it’s not my place to judge.”

At that moment Helen made the first decision in her life that was truly her own. She was going to keep the baby, and if it was a boy she was going to name it Aaron.

“Thank you,” she said. “I know what I have to do.”

The young man nodded, and stepped back from her car. Helen put the car in reverse, and pulled out of the parking lot. She called Joshua Jr.’s nanny, and instructed her to pack a bag for Joshua Jr.

“I’m going to be spending a few months with Alayna,” she informed the nanny.

When she got home she gave the wad of cash she had planned to used to terminate her baby to the nanny, and instructed her to take a long vacation. The nanny smiled happily, and left the nursery singing about going to Kokamo. Helen took Joshua Jr. to the bedroom that she shared with his father, and set him in the center of the bed. She flipped on the TV to distract him while she packed her own suitcase. Once she was packed she loaded their bags into the car, secured Joshua in his car seat, and drove to the home of Andrew and Alayna Michaels.

. . .

Alayna and Helen drank tea on the terrace while Joshua Jr. and Andrew Jr. played in gated area a few feet away. Helen’s hands shook as she lifted her tea cup to her lips. Alayna eyed her curiously.

“Is everything alright, Helen?” Alayna asked. “You seem, distraught.”

“I’m pregnant, Alayna,” Helen informed her.

“Josh came home early?” Alayna asked hopefully.

“No,” Helen answered. “I had an affair.”

“Oh, Helen,” Alayna’s voice was full of concern. “Have you informed the father?”

“Yes,” Helen took a shaky breath, and set the cup and saucer down. “He gave me a check and told me to take care of it.”

“He what?!” Alayna inquired. “That’s his answer? Just make it go away?”

“Yes,” Helen whimpered. “I almost did it. I was in the parking lot. I just couldn’t bare the prolife gauntlet.”

Alayna bit her tongue to keep herself from saying; You mean the very gauntlet you used to organize? Guess things are a bit different when it’s your life. That would be a cruel, and unchristian thing to say. Alayna chided herself for even thinking it.

“Do you want to stay here until it is born?” Alayna offered. She knew Josh would not be home until after the baby was born. Between Andrew Sr. Helen, and herself they could come up with a plan before then.

“Yes, please,” Helen whimpered.

“Of course, dear,” Alayna rubbed Helen’s shoulders reassuringly. “Your family is always welcome here.”

That night when Dr. Andrew Michaels returned home he was greeted by two rowdy toddlers instead of one. He scooped both of them into his arms, and carried them into the small dining room like little footballs.

“Alayna, darling!” Andrew Sr. called cheerfully. “I think you might have grabbed an extra from Mommy and Me today!”

Both boys were giggling and squealing with laughter as he carried them to their seats at the table. He kissed each of the women on the cheeks, and took his seat at the head of the table. He could tell something was going on, but decided to wait until after the children were taken for their bath before addressing it. He figured if Helen was still there at dinner time she and Joshua Jr. were spending the night. That was perfectly fine with him. He always enjoyed Andrew Jr. having a play mate. After the nanny took both boys for their bath Andrew Sr. decided it was time to find out exactly what was going on.

“So, Helen, what brings you to us this evening?” Andrew Sr. inquired.

“I…” Helen began.

“Helen is in a bit of a tough spot, Andrew,” Alayna explained. “She had an affair, and she’s pregnant.”

Andrew listened patiently to Alayna’s explaination. He did not narrow his eyes, or snort in derision. He simply looked at Helen with concern. He knew Joshua Marx Sr. was not the most loving man. In fact, the only reason he married Helen was because it was part of his life plan. The four of them attended the same prep school, and Joshua made it a point to have double dates every weekend. They would go to restaurants and shows together. They had proposed to Helen and Alayna on the same evening. If Joshua could have managed it they would have gotten married on the same day. Both Alayna and Helen had not been amenable to that. Andrew simply sat back, and went with the flow. He had warned Joshua that leaving Helen alone for an entire year, two years after their wedding was a bad idea.

“You can certainly stay here until the baby is born,” Andrew offered. “Do you have a plan after that?”

“I’m going to put the baby up for adoption,” Helen stated.

“Andrew, what if we adopt the baby?” Alayna inquired. “You wanted another child, and after the near tragedy we had bringing Andrew Jr. into the world…”

“Right,” Andrew Sr. nodded resting his hand on Alayna’s knee. “I don’t see why we couldn’t adopt your child Helen. That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh no!” Helen smiled relieved. This would work perfectly. She wouldn’t have to find a place to drop the baby off anonymously, Andrew and Alayna would be discrete, and Joshua would be none the wiser.

Eight months later Helen gave birth to a baby boy, in the Michaels’s home, under the supervision of Andrew Sr. His lawyer wrote up the paperwork, and Aaron Michaels was adopted into his new family. Helen returned to her home with Joshua Jr. just in time to greet Joshua Sr. as he returned home from his trip. He took her to bed to celebrate his victory none the wiser that she had been with another man.

Twenty years later

Dr. Martin Chalmers sat in his knew office as the Dean of political science. He was reading over the transcript of yet another student applying to the political science program. His eyes lifted at the soft knock on his door.

“Yes?” Dr. Chalmers inquired patiently of the young blonde woman standing in his doorway.

“Mr. Michaels is here,” she said softly.

“Well, then show him in, Diana.” Martin stood, straightening his tie. His breath caught in his throat as the woman ushered in a young man who was spitting image of him as a young man. Except the eyes, the blue eyes were Helen’s. So, you didn’t take care of it the way I told you to, Chalmers thought as he surveyed the young man in front of him. “Have a seat Mr. Michaels.”

Martin watched as the young man moved nervously to the seat he indicated. The youth was dressed in a pair of designer blue jeans, and a blue, three button, polo shirt that emphasized his eyes. The eyes he noticed were innocent and full of wonder, taking in everything around him. Just like Helen, he thought. Martin sat as Diana closed the door.

“Well, Mr. Michaels,” Martin addressed the younger man in soft but firm tones. “I understand you are interested in pursuing a degree in political science.”

“Yes, sir,” Aaron nodded.
“I see you attended a community college, where you completed most of you General Education requirements?”

“Yes, sir,” Aaron leaned forward in his seat. “My parents encouraged my brother and I to do that while we were deciding on a major.”

“I assume they saw that as cost efficient?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That was a very wise choice,” Martin smiled. “What is your first name son?”

“Aaron, sir.”

“And your mother, and father?”

“Andrew and Alayna,” Aaron answered, and then added, “I have an older brother name Andrew. He’s working on his pre-med degree here.”

“Is he?” Martin inquired. “Well, Aaron, I am happy to welcome you to our program.”

“Oh! Thank you sir!” Aaron breathed a sigh of relief. “I can’t wait to get started!”

“Now, now, my boy,” Martin spread his hands in a smoothing gesture. “In this department we try to maintain a sense of decorum.”

“Oh, yes, sir.” Aaron took a deep breath, and let it out to calm himself.

“Also, we try to maintain a professional dress code,” Martin explained. “No, politicians I know where blue jeans.”

“Oh, um, not even on Fridays?” Aaron inquired. He was used to working at jobs where the dress code was business casual, except on Fridays. He didn’t need the money, but his father had encouraged them to have jobs during high school and summer; an attempt to help them develop empathy for the working class.

“Aaron,” Martin addressed the young man patiently. It was not his fault he was not truly aware of how things worked in the real world. “A politician’s life is constantly under scrutiny. You must set a higher standard for yourself, and those you associate with if you hope to make it in this field. My boy, given a few years of experience, your intelligence, and the right connections you could be the President of the United States someday.”

“Oh, sir, that is quite an aspiration,” Aaron smiled. “I was only intending to use this major to work myself into a law degree, and us it to help those who need it but can’t afford it.”

“Oh?” Martin’s eyes narrowed. No son of his was going to waste his time on a lost cause. “Aaron, there are those who have, and those who do not have for a reason. Think of it as natural selection.”

“My parents told me that those who have should be generous enough to share with those who don’t have,” Aaron tried to state his argument respectfully.

Hmm, he’s been taught the new Christian values. Martin clenched his teeth to keep from grinding them. “My boy, does it truly make sense to give to someone who has never worked a day in their life when you have worked so hard to get to where you are?”

Aaron had to think about that for a moment. It did not make sense the way he put it. “I suppose not.”

“I’m not going to tell you that your parents have taught you wrong,” Martin sighed. “After all they are your parents, and you should respect them. However, they seem to have fallen under a misguided way of thinking.”

Aaron wasn’t sure what to say to that. He simply nodded, and hoped that the subject would go back to his academic decisions. His hope was strengthened when Martin turned to his computer, and pulled up a copy of the schedule for the upcoming semester, and an program checklist for the political science major.

“Hmm, I see here that you have already registered for some courses,” Martin observed. “You are very ambitious Mr. Michaels.”

“Thank you, sir,” Aaron smiled.

“Oh, dear.” Martin frowned. “This will not do.”

“What?” Aaron sat forward.

“These professors are all under the same misguided thinking as your parents,” Martin advised. “It would be best if you chose professors who shared similar thought patterns to your own, my boy.”

Aaron watched as Martin dropped every class he chose for the upcoming semester. He replaced them with the same classes, taught by different, like minded professors. Aaron considered objecting, but assured himself that the man was only trying to help. Besides, he thought, it wouldn’t hurt to know what the conservative perspective is. He’d had a taste of the radical liberal point of views at the community college, and his parents were moderates, though they were registered republicans. When the meeting ended Aaron shook Martin’s hand, and was invited to his home for a Labor Day picnic the following week.