I’d hoped to raise my own children here too.
My hands slowed in the soapy water as my thoughts wound back to the hospital, the nurses and the doctor telling me that I had miscarried. At five weeks, still in my first trimester and within the real danger zone, I’d woken up in the middle of the night to cramping and blood on the sheets. Since then I’d not gone back to my job as a real estate agent, taking a leave of absence to deal with the grief and to give my body time to heal.
Sebastian worked from home as a web designer, something I was intensely grateful for as he was able to help me out of the depression I’d fallen into after the miscarriage, not to mention pay the bills that never stopped coming.
The bathroom door clicked and I poked my head outside the curtain. “Hand me the new shampoo.”
Sebastian held it just out of reach before finally letting me take it, a grin spreading across his face, his gorgeous dimples framing his mouth.
I ducked back in and lathered up, smiling to myself. He might be a little chubby, but my man was good looking, and that smile—even now it made me weak in the knees.
“It’s probably a hoax. You know that, don’t you, babe?” Sebastian’s voice was muffled as I stuck my head back under the running water, the cool shower sluicing off the last of the pollen. It didn’t, however, make the hives go away. I was covered in them from head to toe, the bumps starting to develop even where the plant didn’t touch me, its infection of my skin spreading like some horrid disease.
“You don’t know that and neither do I,” I said, soaping my body up. “You aren’t a doctor last time I checked.”
“These sorts of things come and go. It’s either a hoax or it will turn out to have some horrible side effect. Like, your boobs will shrivel up, leaving me nothing to play with, and then I would die.”
I laughed, turned the water off, and reached for a towel. The shower curtain slid open and Sebastian lifted an eyebrow at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his clothes having mysteriously disappeared. His eyes roved over my naked and still-wet body. Heat curled in my stomach, still now after four years of marriage he could set my skin on fire and my heart racing with a simple look.
“The towel, please.” I held out my hand, trying to look uninterested. He shook his head and stepped into the tub, his bare toes touching the tips of mine. Without a word he started to dry me off, starting with my hair and working his way slowly down my body, his hands massaging as he dried.
I bit back a groan, the moisture from my skin disappearing, the heat intensifying. I closed my eyes and let the sensations wash through me, the scratching of the itch from the hives almost heavenly as he scrubbed the towel over them.
“Stop,” I whispered, not really meaning it. Sebastian chuckled and I peeked out from under my eyelashes. With a single, swift movement he scooped me into his arms and took me to the bedroom and our very small bed.
With more gentleness than one would think from a man his size, he laid me on the bed and pressed his body into mine, our hearts beating in time with one another.
“I love you, Sebastian,” I whispered as he slid into me, completing me, making us one.
“I love you too, my bumpy, hive-ridden woman,” he whispered into my ear.
I slapped him half-heartedly on the shoulder, and the sweet love-making quickly turned into a laughing romp that ended as it often did: in each other’s arms, tears prickling at the back of my eyes as my emotions filled me up and spilled over in physical release.
“You okay, Mara?”
“Yes,” I said, curling deeper into his arms, trying to think of something smart to say and coming up empty-handed, so I settled for the truth. “Sometimes I just love you so much it makes me cry.”
“Hmm. I am quite the hunk. Really, you are very lucky to have snagged me. I was planning on playing the field till I was at least sixty before you came along.” He spread his big hands over his chest and leaned back against the headboard, a self-satisfied smile across his face.
I smiled up at him, laughed, and shook my head. The size of his ego never ceased to amaze me.
Sobering, I sat up, pulling the sheet around me. “I’m going to ask the doctor about that Nevermore shot. I think it’s what we’ve been waiting for. I mean, we could be fit, trim, and then have a baby too. It would be amazing.” I stared at him, willing him to catch my excitement.
It didn’t work. Sebastian frowned, and then shrugged his big shoulders. “I still think it’s some sort of hoax, but you go ask him. See what he has to say, but don’t get your hopes up.”
I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled into his arms. I could be excited enough for the both of us; in fact, I already was. My eye lids drooped when the second dose of antihistamines kicked in. I let them close completely, my heart light with the hopes and dreams of a family, already forgetting Sebastian’s warning.
3
The doctor’s office was full. And I don’t mean all the seats were taken, I mean there wasn’t even standing room. I ended up halfway down the hall leaning against the cream-coloured wall next to one of the office doors.
“Excuse me, are you Mara Wilson?” a voice behind me asked.
I turned to face a woman who looked vaguely familiar. She was in her late thirties with beautiful blond hair and eyes the colour of the Caribbean ocean. I cocked my head to one side. “Yes, I’m Mara, have we met?”
The woman laughed and patted me on the arm. “Only briefly. I’m Shelly Gartlet, I live on the road above you, and we met at the mailbox when you first moved here.”
I smiled and nodded. “That’s right. I remember now.” Really, how could I forget? The woman had grabbed me in a welcoming hug, spilling all the neighbourhood gossip in less than five minutes, and in a single breath. I’d made a mental note never to confide in her. “Are you here for the Nevermore shot?”
Shelly smiled. “Yes and no. My husband, George, and I got the shot last week, but Jessica here” –she half-tugged a younger looking clone forward– “wasn’t able to get the shot, she was sick with that flu that’s been going around.”
I put my hand out. She was a very pretty young girl, with the same long blond hair as her mom and the same stunning eyes. She looked to be about sixteen years old, but could have been younger; it was so hard to tell nowadays. No doubt the boys went crazy for her at school. “Nice to meet you, Jessica.” She gripped my hand lightly, ducking her head.
Shelly patted her on the arm and gave me a wink. “Jessica, weren’t you telling me about Mara’s husband, and about how good looking he is?”
Jessica flushed from her chin to the roots of her hair, her eyes widening as our gazes connected.
“I didn’t mean . . . it’s not like . . . mom, how could you say that?” she finally spit out.
I laughed, warmed by the thought, knowing that my husband was an attractive man, so much so that even teenagers had crushes on him, despite the extra weight he carried. Tall, dark, and handsome with confidence and a wicked sense of humour, he’d had women swooning over him in every age bracket. “It’s okay, Jessica. I’m sure Sebastian would love to know that he had an admirer.”
“Please don’t tell him,” she whispered.
We were interrupted by a woman who pushed her way in to our conversation. “You here for that miracle drug?” She was a chubby woman in her mid-forties standing behind me. A quick glance, and from my experience and time in Weight Watchers, I knew she had to be at least eighty pounds overweight.
“Yes. You too?” I asked.
“Hell no. I’m perfect just the way I am.” Hands on her hips, her purple and red muumuu fluttering around her thick ankles as she glared at me, daring me to call her out. I smiled and bit my tongue. She continued her rant. “And all you yahoos coming in for some quick-fix are going to get what’s coming to you. There’s no such thing; it’s ridiculous to think one shot can do all that. Fertility, heart stuff, making bones stronger—foolishness that you’ve all bought into.”
Shelly
and Jessica backed away from the woman, and I gave them a smile as I, too, gave the riled-up woman some room.
“Come over for coffee,” I said over the muumuu woman’s head. “And we can get to know each other. Anytime, I would love some company.”
Shelly and Jessica smiled and they gave me identical thumbs up. This was one of the nice things about where we lived. Yes, we were in the country, but there were still neighbours close enough if you needed some sugar or a helping hand, or maybe just a cup of coffee with the local gals. I smiled to myself. I loved it here; the island was everything I’d hoped for.
“Mara Wilson?” The desk nurse called me and I followed her directions into the doctor’s room, happy to get away from the woman on her tirade. I glanced back and she hadn’t paused for a second, now laying into a pudgy teenager on the other side of the hall. The doctor’s room was close enough that I could still hear her with the door not completely closed, her voice rising with intensity.
“Exercise and diet. Kids, when I was young, were outside playing and working. None of this TV and computer crap.” There was a pause and I imagined a nurse speaking to her. “No, I will not lower my voice; I think you all have lost your minds. This is some government conspiracy to plug you all full of tracking devices and drugs so they can better control us.”
I shook my head, why couldn’t she just let us be? It was obvious she was delusional. She could use the shot and lose a few pounds, and she’d probably live longer. There was a large thump that rattled the wall and made me jump. Then came a god-awful screech that sounded like a parrot being strangled, followed by a dull cheer from the crowd. “You can’t kick me out!” the woman screamed. “I have an appointment!”
Ejection from a doctor’s office, that had to be a first. I laughed at the absurdity of her claims. Health Canada and the FDA wouldn’t allow a drug to be given to the masses if it hadn’t been tested. They knew it was safe and there was no way it could get to the public unless it was good to go.
“Hello, Mara.” Dr. Cooper stepped into the office, his grey hair and stooped shoulders making me wonder how much longer I would be able to go to him.
“Hi, Dr. Cooper.” I smiled, unable to suppress my emotions. This was it; this was the moment I’d been waiting for.
“I suppose you’re here for the Nevermore shot?” His face held a mask of concentration.
I smiled wider, my excitement spilling over into my words. “Yup. It’s perfect! I can lose the last of the weight that you said I should to be at an optimum size for getting pregnant, and the shot will make me more fertile, right? That’s what I heard on the radio and when I looked it up on the internet, it confirmed that. And then maybe Sebastian should get it too? Because you weren’t sure if the fertility issues were with him or me, we could both take it and then we’d be sure to get pregnant, right? Sorry about the pun—I’m so happy; I can’t believe this is finally going to happen. I’m going to be able to have a baby.”
Dr. Cooper didn’t answer me right away; his eyes stared at the screen of his computer as he scrolled through it, page by page.
“Dr. Cooper? This is a good thing, right?” A wave of fear rolled up through my body, trepidation I couldn’t push away. God, don’t let Sebastian’s pessimistic view be the truth; what if this was all a hoax? No, there were too many people in the waiting room. If it were a hoax, it’d be all over the internet and news.
“Mara, the drug does all that and more. Strengthens bones, prevents skin cancer, and increases fertility. Parkinson’s and arrhythmias are virtually wiped out. It truly is a miracle, of that I have no doubt, and I’m encouraging as many patients as possible to take it.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding in a huge sigh of relief, my heart slowing back to a normal rhythm. I folded my hands on the desk and leaned forward. “You scared me. I thought you were going to tell me it was a hoax. That’s what Sebastian thought it was, some scam to get money out of people.”
Dr. Cooper shook his head, but he still wasn’t smiling, and that made me nervous all over again. “It’s no hoax, Mara, but my dear, you can’t take the shot.”
A loud buzzing filled my ears, and though Dr. Cooper continued to talk, I couldn’t hear a word he said. I blinked once, twice, as I grasped what he said. “Why not?” I whispered.
He let out deep sigh and pulled my hands into his, cupping them like a grandfather would. “Nevermore is derived from cystius scoparius.”
I stared at him, confusion rushing through me. “I don’t know what that is. Is it bad?”
“Scotch broom. The concentrate within the drug would kill you at worst, and at best you would be in a constant state of agony, hives, sinus infections, swollen glands, and hypersensitivity to the mildest of irritations. There have even been some reported cases where people who were allergic to broom took Nevermore and now they’ve lost their eyesight.” He squeezed my suddenly ice-cold hands. “You can’t take Nevermore, Mara.”
My mind whirled, hopes thrown about in a tornado of emotions before they crashed and burned. I pulled my hands slowly away from him and folded my arms across my breasts, at a loss for words.
Dr. Cooper leaned back in his chair and slid a sheet toward me. “Here’s the chemical breakdown, Mara. Every aspect of the broom has been used in this drug, not just part of it.”
“Why are you giving this to me?” I tried to keep the venom welling up within me out of my voice, my hand gripping the paper tightly, almost to the point of crumpling.
“Because I know you, Mara. I know how much you want children, and how hard you’ve worked to lose the weight that was preventing that dream. I know that you’re going to try and find a way around this, and I don’t want you to die. There is no way around this.” His voice was so soft, gentle, that it broke down the last barrier of strength I’d propped up, and a sob slipped out.
“I’m so sorry, Mara,” he said.
I bit back the next sob that was bubbling up. I stood and ran to the door, pushing past the horde of people that filled the hallway, running till I reached my car. I leaned against it, head against the hot metal, and let my heart slow down. It wasn’t the end of the world; it really didn’t make it any harder for Sebastian and me to have a baby. At least, that’s what I told myself.
“Got the shot did you?” a rather familiar voice threw the question at me.
I spun on my heel to face down the chubby woman who’d been tossed out of the clinic. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I didn’t,” I snapped at her, forcing back the urge to punch her in her doughy face.
She nodded. “Smart girl. I’ll tell you now, it was the best decision you ever made. The government won’t get you now.” She reached out and patted me on the arm. I shrugged her hand off me and bit my tongue, the four-letter words on the tip that would leave me screaming and ranting at the unsuspecting woman.
I unlocked the car, slid into my seat, and started the engine. The rear view mirror gave me a perfect picture of the purple muumuu waddling through the parking lot, the woman on her way to accost another person leaving the clinic.
“It wasn’t a choice I made; it was a choice taken from me,” I whispered to her retreating figure. I took a deep breath and headed home to Sebastian and the farm.
4
Days turned into weeks and before I knew it, I’d spent the next month alternately hiding in our tiny bedroom, watching daytime talk shows and, in general, allowing myself to fall back into the depression that had found me after the miscarriage.
I told Sebastian I didn’t feel well, had a fever, my joints ached—anything that would give me time to hide from the world for a little longer. The sunlight hurt my eyes on the few days I dared to peek out into the yard, and that became yet another excuse. Sebastian did his best to console me when he wasn’t working on his new client’s project. He brought me flowers from the fields, told me funny stories, and even baked cookies for me, something he’d never done before.
On the twenty-eighth day of my�
�self-imposed—confinement, a booming rattle shook me awake, the bedroom door flinging open.
“That’s it, I’ve been patient and done what I could, but you’ve got to get up,” Sebastian barked as he whipped the blankets off me.
“Leave me alone,” I grumbled, grabbing at the blankets.
He snatched them out of my hands. “Nope, time to grow up and get with the program.”
Bright sunlight streamed into the room as he opened all the curtains. “There’s no use crying over something you can’t change.” He sat down on the bed and pulled me upright to sit beside him.
“It isn’t fair,” I said, hating how childish I sounded. “Every crackhead and addict out there can get pregnant, and they can’t even take care of themselves. We would be able to give a child a life, a family, and a home.”
Sebastian nodded. “I know, babe, but you’re not doing yourself any good by wallowing in this.”
I frowned at him. “I’m not wallowing.”
“Yes, you are. I have something for you; it’s down in the garden, so you’ll have to haul your butt down there. I’ve got to go into town; I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
I stood and stomped my way to the bathroom, brushing past him. “What do you know anyway, you’re just a man; you don’t have an internal clock like I do,” I snapped as I turned on the shower and got in the steaming water.
Stupid male, what did he know about really wanting babies? Or losing weight for that matter? The man thought he was a Greek god with the way he strutted through the house naked, preening in front of mirrors. I snorted to myself. My anger faded as I worked the soap through my hair, the hot water rinsing away the last of the tears. Damn, now I was feeling grateful for his intervention. I’d have to be careful about how I thanked him, or I’d never hear the end of it.
Sundered: Book 1 (The Nevermore Trilogy) Page 2
