by D. M. Pratt
“He’s tall for his age,” Eve added.
“Eighteen months?” the nurse said as she fiddled with an electronic chart on the room’s computer.
Eve undressed Philip while the nurse gave him a squishy, red rubber ball that went immediately to his mouth. Eve took his shoes and played with his feet, making him giggle the best giggle ever. As she pulled his little jeans and baby blue t-shirt off, her eyes kept going to the walls. She found herself captivated by the images; not Roman, or Greek or even Egyptian, but older. The fact they were done in a kind of modern, animated style made it harder to pinpoint their historical origin.
Philip liked them too. His focus, however, was on the ceiling. Eve followed his gaze and what she saw sent a chill through her bones that actually made her shiver: precise, detailed constellations of stars. At first glance she was sure they were not like the starry skies she’d painted on Philip’s walls and ceiling next to his bed. She’d painted them in his nurseries both in the main house and in the guest house. But these star maps were more…real. Eve was sure that if she looked in the night sky at various star constellations like the Pleiades, Orion or the Milky Way, they would match what she and Philip were seeing here in the doctor’s office.
“Home,” Philip said. He pointed to a star with a stream of light at the far corner of the ceiling.
“What did you say?” Eve asked him.
Eve shivered the second time because, upon closer inspection, the stars Beau painted above his bed, the stars she thought were randomly placed, were here, exactly the same. It was as if he had been an astronaut or an astronomer. Eve stepped closer. There was no question; a small part of this ceiling was an exact duplicate of the ceiling in Philip’s rooms at home.
“Hi,” Dr. Renfroe said as she stepped into the room and startled Eve. “And hi to you my handsome little man,” she added to Philip with a sweet, warm lilt.
Philip lowered the ball, refocused on Dr. Renfroe and smiled.
Dr. Renfroe washed her hands as the nurse checked Philip’s weight and height. He was off the scale. She pulled out a small extender to the ruler and typed in the number. The digital chart program calculated on an electronic graph.
“You got all his info from Thibodaux?” Eve asked.
“Yes, we did,” Dr. Renfroe said. “We are always very excited to see this young man.”
“You are?” Eve asked. Her stomach tightened. “Why’s that?”
Dr. Renfroe ran her hands over Philip. Checking his ears and eyes, listening to his heart with a small stethoscope she warmed with her breath and hands before she touched it to his bare skin.
“His birth was under unusual circumstances, don’t you agree?”
“Unusual?” Eve asked.
“You were in a coma during your entire pregnancy and when he came into the world. I would call those circumstances highly unusual.”
“Right. Yes. Very unusual,” Eve said, feeling foolish. “He’s alright though, right? My being in a coma didn’t affect him, did it?”
Dr. Renfroe stopped her examination of Philip and turned her attention to Eve. Whatever else she was, she had great bedside manner. The attention and eye contact said that as clearly as a welcoming sky on a summer day.
“Eve, I can’t tell enough from the records they kept on you both at the hospital through your pregnancy. The fact that you were in a coma and carried a child to full term is highly unusual. Dr. Stevenson helped me induce labor for a vaginal birth and that you two are fine is miraculous and perplexing. I know you received proper nutrients and vitamins, but there is no way to tell from his growth charts what affect your situation had on his development. It may take years to discover if there were any complications to his lungs, brain, eyes, organs or even his emotional development. You understand that, don’t you?” Dr. Renfroe asked.
A flush of tears and concern welled up in Eve’s eyes. The idea that something could be wrong with her son and that somehow it could be her fault crushed her heart and shredded her emotions.
“He seems so healthy,” Eve said, struggling to speak.
“He is a fine, healthy and very happy baby by all I can tell from this gobbledy-goop of fancy software programs. Well, that and twenty years of looking after these cute little people. And by the way, I’m pretty darn good at what I do,” Dr. Renfroe said, her face breaking into a smile.
The confidence in Philip’s doctor’s voice and demeanor chased the elephant that had been sitting on her chest away, but a seed of concern still remained. She could feel it. Crap, one more thing to torture myself with, Eve thought.
“Duck,” Philip said and bit into his teething ball.
“Alright! Now we know he won’t be the strong silent type,” Dr. Renfroe said.
She checked Philip’s skin, looked at his hands and feet, checked his cute little butt, scrotum and penis.
“You chose not to have him circumcised?”
“I didn’t have a choice in the matter I guess,” Eve replied.
“Not too late if you feel it will make his life easier.”
Eve looked at Philip. Ouch, she thought.
“I’ll discuss it with his father.”
“Go ahead and get him dressed,” Dr. Renfroe said before leaving the room.
Eve kissed and tickled Philip. She watched him laugh as she pulled on his t-shirt and diaper, jeans, sox and little shoes. Philip’s eyes went again and again back to the walls and ceiling.
When Dr. Renfroe and the nurse were gone and Philip was dressed, Eve pulled out her cell phone and switched it to video. Slowly, she captured the strange images that covered the walls and the stars that were scattered across the ceiling. Through the lens she looked at the hieroglyphs: people and creatures, temples and mountains. They toiled in the fields and fished the rivers, honoring the sun and water. Near the corner of the room, a kind of domed temple stood, priests and priestesses and a larger High Priestess with a golden, winged crown stood in a circle under a shimmering blue arch. Rays of light shone down on an altar where a body lay prone. In the wash of light Eve could see something. She pushed into it, but whatever it was had no form she could discern. She hit pause and stepped closer. There was something there. She switched her camera phone to still and took a picture of the star and the strange beam of light.
“Home? Huh?” Eve said staring at the star before returning her gaze to her son.
“Duck,” Philip said, wiggling to the edge of the table.
“Oh, no you don’t little man,” Eve said gathering him up. “Now, duck is a perfectly fine word, but if you really want to win your daddy’s heart say … Dada.”
Philip looked at her and his little hands went to her cheeks. He held her face and stared into her eyes with those dark, limpid pools of chocolate that seemed to drag her into his soul.
“Neteru,” Philip said as he turned her face away from his and toward the corner.
The light that rose from the altar moved. It shimmered as if it were real. Eve’s heart fluttered. She squeezed her son as tightly as she could. She looked back at Philip and then at the undulating, radiant glow. It peeled itself off the wall and reached toward her and her son. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought it would explode. Philip turned to the beam and reached out his hand. It was coming to him … for him. Eve stumbled back, grabbing for the door handle with her free hand. It slipped. She turned to grab and open it again. The door clicked open and she stepped out, but the diaper bag caught on the handle. Its strap dug into her shoulder. With a tug she ripped it free and stepped farther back as the door swung shut and the light retreated.
“Are you alright?” the nurse asked.
Eve, obviously frazzled, looked at her unsure what to say.
“Fine. I’m fine,” Eve said, trying to control her breath so she didn’t sound like a lunatic.
“Well, you better get this cutie home. Looks like a big storm is coming,” the nurse said.
“Thanks,” Eve said and turned down the hall. Just as Eve stepped into
the lobby she caught a glimpse of Dr. Renfroe standing at the far end of the hall outside an examination room. She was staring at Eve, her face looked strangely ethereal, other worldly. Their eyes connected as the door swung shut with a click and she was gone.
A chill ran through her blood. The little voice that whispered it’s warnings of danger was back, hissing at her to be afraid. Eve wanted out! She wanted to be outside in the warm sun and breathe the fresh air. She needed to get herself and Philip home. As she crossed through the outer office, she noticed one last, disturbing thing. It was empty. None of the other mothers and babies were waiting there. It felt to Eve as if they had come only to see Philip, to be in his presence with their daughters then, once seen, they were done and gone. Eve needed to know why. She looked at Philip and got out as fast as she could.
Chapter Nine
Several sleepless days and nights passed. Eve somehow charmed the names of the other mothers who’d been in Dr. Renfroe’s office that day from the office assistant. After a few calls it was obvious all Dr. Renfroe’s patients were tied to Thibodaux Hospital and all the children in her care had been born there. From there she searched for who these women were, who they were married to and how their husbands and families were tied to Thibodaux, but instead of answers, she encountered one wall after another and no one she reached out to at Thibodaux would help. She’d found Mac’s card in the pocket of her green dress and almost called him. More than once the idea fluttered in her head, taunting her to call with the persistence of a hungry horse fly, but she had too many confusing feelings about Mac to call. Frustrated, she did all she could to ignore her concerns and live her all too wonderful life.
It was Cora who noticed the stress in Eve’s face. Cora insisted they get away from the house and out of New Orleans for a picnic as far away from Gregoire Estate as they could get. After much insistence, Cora won and Eve, Philip, Cora and Delia packed themselves and a scrumptious lunch into the car. Eve got behind the wheel and they took off on a long, lazy drive through the Louisiana countryside.
Over an hour on the road flew by and the warm sun and bright sky made Eve feel liberated. She thought if she just kept driving and never looked back, maybe it would be the best thing for everyone.
“Good heavens, Eve, suga, where in tarnation are we going?” Cora asked. “We’ve been driving over an hour.”
“It’s a surprise,” Eve replied.
“You do know I hate surprises, darlin’,” Cora said.
“You said we needed to get away is all and you are my very best friend so let’s get the hell away,” Eve said. “Tell me something amazingly wonderful that’s happened to you recently.”
Cora fell silent, her mind racing back to that very bizarre and very graphic afternoon wet dream of she and the nanny that transformed into she and Beau and the best sex she’d ever had in her life. To this day she wasn’t sure if any, all or none of it was real. The thought of she and Beau making love and the fact that she liked it was all that filled her mind. Cora looked at Eve, wanting to tell her and, at that moment, wanting Eve to be anyone other than her best friend for the simple reason she so dearly loved her. Her best friend, who was about to marry the father of her own daughter, Delia. Had it not been so complicated and sordid, maybe she could have shared it and laughed it off with her dear friend, but the reality of everything was still too raw … too fresh. Even just thinking of it felt sacrilegious.
“That boring, eh?” said Eve.
“Weird fantasies,” blurted Cora.
Eve laughed then fell silent when she saw the solemn look on Cora’s face.
“Seriously? Me too,” Eve said
“Maybe having babies makes you think strange kinky things,” Cora said.
“Strange and kinky? Now you have to share,” Eve said.
The roadside sign for Thibodaux Hospital whooshed by.
“You’re kidding,” Cora said.
“Yes. Come on. The picnic grounds by the bayou are so beautiful and the bird sanctuary is something I think Philip and Delia will remember.”
“You are a terrible liar, Eve Dowling,” Cora said, her face bending into a pout. “Why are we out at this Godforsaken place? I hate Thibodaux.”
“Okay, okay, I do have one thing I need to check on at the hospital and because we’re down this far, I saw no harm in taking a few minutes after our picnic to take care of it. If it’s a problem, I’ll turn around right now and come back another time,” Eve said.
“Lies and a guilt trip. Aren’t you the northern bitch? You listen to me, sugar tits, I am your best friend and I know all your moves. Now what the hell is this really about?”
Cora stared at her. She wore that southern, I-may-look-dumb-but-I’m-smarter-than-a hungry-fox expression that Eve loved about her. She was her best friend even with all that had passed between them. Eve wanted desperately to talk to her. She needed to share her nightmares with someone not to mention her very real, very kinky fantasies.
“You’ll think I’m crazy,” Eve said.
“I already do. As a matter of fact, I think you are almost as crazy as I am. I will let you know when you surpass me. Crazy and bitch are titles I relish and will not give up easily by the way,” Cora said with a wry smile. “Oh, add to that getting spoiled and about to be wonderfully rich. Suga, you are about to join the club, so get over yourself.”
The two women burst into spontaneous laughter. It was the first time in a very long time they had laughed together. It felt good. It seemed to shatter the thick web of tension that had entangled them since she woke from her coma. They laughed so hard tears ran from both their eyes, forcing Eve to pull the car over to compose herself. It took a pleasurable bit of time to calm down. She turned to look at Cora who was wiping her eyes with the ends of a shared clean cloth diaper. The two women looked at each other and Eve felt the bond of love that secured their friendship. It was strong and good. They turned back to check on a very quiet Philip and Delia and found the two staring at them with wide eyes and very confused little faces. The two women burst out laughing again.
Their laughter finally subsided and they, still giggling and joking like two high school girls playing hooky from the world, decided to make their picnic right where they were. They drove off the main road and down a dirt path and parked the car in the center of a glorious banyan grove. Thick arms of twisted roots crawled around massive grey tree trunks that had, over many years, gracefully split into thick branches heavy with wide, waxy leaves.
They tumbled out, taking kids, carry seats, blankets and the beautiful wheat colored, wicker picnic basket Aria had helped Eve pack. Across the soft moist earth they set out to find the perfect place to have lunch.
“It’s a gorgeous day, don’t cha think,” Cora said. “The sun is warm and the air is cool. How about right over there?”
The place they chose to lay the blankets was near a small, algae-covered lake not too far off the road, but just far enough to make them feel they were on an adventure. Sunlight dappled through the wide leaves of their chosen tree, it’s great, wooden arms draped in thick hairy ropes of Spanish moss. The air smelled of magnolia blossoms baking in the warm sun, sweet and pungent. And the sounds of the bayou echoed around them: cicadas, crickets, nutria and a host of birds and other bugs. No mosquitoes had found them, which Eve noticed as a strange anomaly, but ignored as she hung a lightweight mosquito netting. She tossed a rope over a low hanging branch and together they pulled up the bundle of white netting hooked to the rope. Eve double tied the rope into a constrictor knot; her sailing lessons held some benefit. Once free of the bag, a clever, umbrella-like device popped open to form the top rigging. The net draped over the frame, stretched down in all directions and made the cutest little canopy with enclosed sides. They stretched and tied the hem to four stakes like a couple of roustabouts from Barnum and Bailey Circus, then gathered kids and basket and went inside their little sanctuary to feast and enjoy each other and the afternoon. They sat happy and safe inside the thin film o
f gauze netting that spread over them like delicate angel wings. The fabric let in the sun and the breeze, but kept any unwanted creepy crawlers and critters out. As delicate as it looked it was made of a remarkably strong nylon thread by a company Beau had invested in.
Cora laid her favorite mustard yellow, blue and cranberry tablecloth she’d brought back from Provence between the tree roots that poked above the ground. Eve spread out their banquet: black and green olives, three kinds of French cheeses, hard and creamy and very smelly. One had been supplied by Cora along with a chunk of wickedly delicious duck pâté Eve swore would be her last ever as she savored each delicious bite. There was a fresh loaf of French bread Aria had baked, some slices of honey baked ham, pickles, water and fruit smoothies because both ladies were still nursing. Or so Eve thought until she watched Cora pull out a bundle with little glass containers and start to spoon feed Delia.
“I have everything homemade and pureed for her. Greedy little darling. She loves food,” Cora said, shoveling mouthfuls of green, orange and beet-red foods into her daughter’s mouth.
Eve was about to say something when Philip, who was just about to settle in to nurse, saw the colorful display and pulled away. He stood, gathering his sometimes wobbly legs underneath him. Balancing on the uneven soil beneath his feet, he walked to Cora and curiously studied what Delia was doing. After a few moments of assessing the situation, he opened his mouth. Cora scooped in the first bite after which he plopped down next to Delia and hungrily waited for the one-for-you, one-for-Delia routine Cora quickly established.
“Well, guess we’re done with that,” Eve said.
“She still takes my breast at bedtime, but I think she likes the closeness more than the milk. Besides, I am ready for an adventure into my wine cellar!”
After lunch they played learning games. They studied leaves and pointed to the birds and curious squirrels that came closer than Eve would have liked. Patty cake and raspberries on fat tummies made the children squeal and giggle until they drifted off for an afternoon nap leaving Eve and Cora to nibble on the grown up elements of the picnic.
