by Nesly Clerge
On top of the tension they’d been feeling was the diagnosis Kayla’s doctor had given her the week before.
The doctor looked over the rim of his glasses at Kayla. “You have fibroid tumors in your uterus.”
Eyes widened in shock, Kayla said, “Is it dangerous?”
Starks squeezed her hand.
“It’s a common condition. Almost never develops into cancer.” The doctor fixed his gaze on Starks. “As a disclaimer, I want to add that no one can know what will happen until it happens.” He returned his focus to Kayla, “But your fibroids are benign.”
“Can I get pregnant?”
The doctor took off his glasses. “It does pose some difficulties, given the location. However, each individual is unique. I’ve had patients with this condition who had no problem getting pregnant. There are, however, some risks with the pregnancy. But that can be monitored and dealt with.”
Starks chewed at a cuticle. “Can’t you give her some type of medication?”
“There’s no drug treatment that will cure it. We often recommend oral contraceptives to help with the menstrual bleeding associated with it. But that won’t shrink the fibroids. Surgical treatment is probably the best option, especially in her case.”
“Is that risky?” Kayla asked.
“Every procedure has some type of risk. It’s best if you discuss this with a surgeon.” The doctor scribbled something on a tablet, tore the sheet off and handed it to her. “This is the surgeon I’ll refer you to. I’ll have my nurse call and make an appointment while you wait.”
On the quiet ride home, Starks stopped to buy the cheapest palatable wine they could afford. Once home, he poured two glasses of merlot and sat with Kayla at the small table in the kitchen.
Kayla turned her glass slowly in circles. Tears welled in her eyes fixed and unseeing on the dark liquid. “This explains a lot. All these years without using contraception and I never… How long have we talked about a house blessed with lots of children?” Her eyes met Starks’s. “Is that dream over?”
“The doctor didn’t say it was over, just more complicated than we imagined. Listen, we’ll get a second and even third opinion. We don’t want to risk your health, so we’ll get enough information to make an informed decision. We’ll get answers. I promise you.”
Kayla’s smile quivered.
He took her hand in his. “You know that whatever you need or want, I’ll find a way.”
Other doctors they’d seen had confirmed the diagnosis, but also said pregnancy wouldn’t be as high a risk as they had feared, given the size of the fibroids. One doctor had winked and told them to keep trying, and to enjoy it. Somewhat relieved, Starks and Kayla began to relax.
But their love-making was not as it had once been. Before, their intimate moments had been about them and their pleasure. Now the possibility of no children weighed on them.
“Look, my doctorate is almost completed,” he told her. “Instead of worrying about this, focus on your degree and let me be the only one working. The doctor said you need less stress.”
“I’m afraid I’ll lose everything.”
Something stopped him from asking what she meant. But he needed to talk to someone so sought guidance and commiseration from his mother.
“Get married,” she said.
It was as though she hadn’t heard anything he’d told her.
Then the first child came. Then the other two. Then the behaviors, and now this.
Starks eased away from the concrete wall. The back of his shirt was moist with sweat. He crossed the brief distance to his bed and sat, groaned in frustration and got up again. Escaping his thoughts about Kayla was impossible.
He chided himself that his focus should be on what he’d say to Jeffrey, what the message he wanted delivered to Mason should be. The visit had to happen and soon. He couldn’t ask Demory to give the message to Jeffrey: Demory would want to discuss it. Worse, Demory would decide to keep him in isolation.
He had to get out of this gray pocket of misery.
A man could go crazy.
CHAPTER 45
STARKS LOWERED HIMSELF into his usual chair in front of Demory’s desk.
“Before you ask, I’ll tell you—I’m doing well today. At least, better than I was.”
Demory’s pen wasn’t working properly. He opened the center desk drawer for a replacement. He smiled at Starks. “Any particular reason?”
“You know why; I got to make my phone call. Thanks for helping with that. It was good to talk with Jeffrey again.”
“I was happy to do it. The visit’s being set up.”
“That’s great.”
“I knew you’d be pleased. But what I want to know is what it felt like to be around other inmates when you made the call.”
“It felt good.”
Demory linked his fingers and rested his chin on top of them. “Are you saying you had no anxiety about being around other inmates? No fear about—”
“At first there was some of that then I relaxed. Isolation isn’t easy.” Starks stared out the small window. “It’s getting to me. What I’m telling you is that it felt good to be around others. Even chatted a bit with a few of them.”
Demory picked up his pen and started writing. “That went well?”
“Better than I’d hoped. And when I got back to my cell, I didn’t have to worry about my thoughts.”
“Which thoughts?”
“Angry thoughts, especially about Kayla. I’m not saying I don’t have moments of anger, but I’m not feeling it like I was before.”
“What are you thinking or feeling instead?”
“Old times with Jeffrey. And what it would be like to be back in general population. What it would be like to have a cellmate I could talk to now and then.”
Demory leaned back in his chair and fixed his gaze on Starks. “What about thoughts of killing yourself?”
Starks shook his head. “I’m not going down that path ever again.”
“You sound sure.”
“I have to live, for my children. My recent example of behaviors… let’s just say that’s not what I want to teach them. I have the opportunity to rectify that. Or I will, once I’m back in general population and can have visitors. I know it’ll be difficult for my kids to see me in here, but I’d hate to miss seeing them grow up.”
“It hurts to be away from them.”
Starks lowered his head, focused on his hands. “More than anyone knows.”
“You said you’re looking forward to having a cellmate to talk with. You had a cellmate when you first got here. How’d that go?”
Starks leaned back, tried to cross his legs and remembered the restraints prevented it. “It was hard initially to adjust to the setting. Having no privacy when I used the toilet took getting used to. Plus, he spoke almost no English.”
“And you think it’ll be easier now?”
“Anything is better than isolation, Doc.” He shrugged. “What other choice do I have but to make the best of it? I can’t serve my entire sentence in the Hole. I’d lose my mind.”
Starks leaned forward. “Listen, the time before I went into business was tough, and my first two years in business were hell, but I didn’t give up. I had to adjust. Had to find a way, and I did. It’s the same here. I have to find a way to make it work. I’m here for a long time.”
Demory scribbled on his notepad.
“What do you think, Doc, about my return to general population?” Starks chewed on a cuticle. He stopped when he saw Demory watching him.
“I promise I’m giving it serious thought. Let’s get to work. What do you want to talk about today?”
Starks scooted back in his chair. “Okay. California was the end of the race for me. Well, that particular race. End one, start another.”
“What do you mean?”
“Once I was close to completing my degree, I started getting offers, ones I could seriously consider. I knew it was just a matter of time before all the f
inancial suffering would end.”
“You were both working and going to school, weren’t you?”
“At first, but that shifted. Kayla went to school full-time and I had a job while I worked on my degree.” Starks shook his head, grew quiet.
“What are you thinking about?”
“About when we decided to get married. We didn’t want anyone to ever tell our first child that we had to get married because of him or her. Not that that’s treated the way it used to be. But we both felt the same about it.”
Demory smiled and asked, “After all that time together, how did you propose to her?”
Starks’s expression went blank for a moment then his cheeks flushed. “I see what you’re asking. I didn’t do any kind of formal proposal or celebration. We just decided to get married. And it didn’t make sense to have family come to the West Coast for the wedding, so we got married in Massachusetts. My mother, grandfather, aunts, and uncles all chipped in and paid for everything. Between what Kayla and her mother wanted, it became an elaborate affair. Thirty thousand dollars.”
“Did her mother or relatives pay anything toward the wedding?”
“Her mother didn’t have the money. And none of her other relatives contributed.”
“What about the honeymoon?”
“We had to get back to school and work. But time in bed was more passionate. I do remember that. Kayla was so pleased that I was her husband. That we were legal, as she put it.” Starks paused. He smiled but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes.
“What?”
“Kayla used to say that what we had was special and sacred. If I had a dollar for every time she said that I was the only man she’d ever been with… She got pregnant sooner than either of us expected. We were overjoyed.
“I continued with my studies and work. I also wanted to save some money before our first child, Blake, was born. I got an extra job delivering pamphlets. I had a specific area and a certain amount of time to get them delivered to all the residences. Got up at five every morning and drove to a particular block, parked, and loaded my arms with as many as I could carry. One morning, when Kayla was three months pregnant, she drove the car, while I put the pamphlets at the houses. After that temporary gig was up, I got another job.”
Starks’s smile was slight. “She was so worried that she wasn’t ready to be a mother. When Blake arrived, her maternal instinct kicked in. She did just fine.”
“How did you feel about becoming a father?”
“I couldn’t wait. Kayla stopped going to school because of the pregnancy; she didn’t want to risk it. And she wanted the first few months with Blake. School and work took up most of my days. But once he was born, I’d come home at night and stare at him in his crib, get up with him during the night so I could have time with him and so Kayla could rest. Any spare time I had, I spent with him.”
“How was your life after several months with a baby in the house?”
“More involved, of course. I had my doctorate by that time, so looked for more promising work. Got several serious offers for jobs on the West Coast, but they wanted two- and three-year contracts. Kayla and I spoke about this and realized we wanted to return to Massachusetts. We wanted Blake to grow up around his larger family. So there I was, a Ph.D. cleaning carpets.” Starks shook his head and laughed. “Didn’t need a doctorate for that. But it paid the bills and more. That work was physical. But my days were usually no more than nine hours, which was a nice change.” He stared at his hands. “The heavy machinery was difficult to maneuver. I complained about how stiff my hands, wrists, and arms felt after a day at work. I was only twenty-six, but sometimes swore that I had arthritis.”
“Did Kayla go back for her degree?”
“Eventually. There were only a few credits needed to complete her master’s. At first she was concerned about leaving Blake, but I told her the classes she needed were offered in the evenings. That I could watch Blake after work. She tried to use the excuse that she was too old to go back. I reminded her she was only twenty-five.
“Around the same time she got her degree, I got an offer from Focus Designs. It was located back home and was the perfect opportunity. A six-figure job. We went back East, but decided that instead of paying rent, we’d live with my grandfather and mother. We used the basement, so we could have some privacy. We did what was needed to fit the three of us in that one room. Fortunately, it was an adequate-sized room. At least, temporarily.”
Demory nodded. “How was your romantic life after Blake was born?”
“I’ve never really been what you might call a romantic person, but I took care of my family. I was a good provider.”
“A woman’s emotional needs sometimes alter after she becomes a mother. She may need some romancing so she knows her mate still finds her desirable.”
Starks spoke through tight lips. “Look, Doc, Kayla knew how I was.” He slumped forward in the chair. “I know where you’re heading with this. Okay. Maybe I became somewhat complacent, in some people’s opinion. I’d call it focused. I had a lot to take care of. Kayla knew how I felt about her, or should have. I was there, wasn’t I? I was supporting her and our son, wasn’t I? A person can have only so much expected of him.”
Demory put his pen down. “Women—all of us, really—need to feel loved. Those in a relationship need to figure out how their mate needs to be told or shown they’re loved, not just how they themselves express love.”
“I’m not following you, Doc.”
“Even if we think we’re communicating our love, our mate doesn’t always hear it, because it may not be their way to feel it. For instance, you worked hard to support and supply your wife and child with what they needed. And to you that was your expression of love.”
“Damn straight. I don’t know how she could perceive it any other way.”
“Some people need to hear words to feel loved. Some need their mate to spend quality time with them, even if it’s not a lot of time. Others feel loved when they receive gifts. Not necessarily elaborate gifts, but small, thoughtful ones that let them know their partner pays attention. Others feel loved when things are done for them, like a man taking care of certain things around the house without being asked, or a woman doing certain things that make the man feel special, respected. Some people need to be touched to feel loved, and I don’t mean just sexually. They need hugs, kisses, their hair stroked, massages—that kind of thing. Is any of this making sense to you?”
“Sure, but it’s so damn complicated.” Starks sank his face into his hands. “I guess I can see why she fell for Ozy, or any guy that did things I didn’t do; made her feel the way she needed to feel, especially if they caught her in a vulnerable moment.”
“It’s important for you to see this. That kind of attention is the basis of any strong relationship.”
Demory jotted a quick note then put the pen down. “We’re done for today. Before you ask, I’d like to wait just a bit longer before requesting a transfer into general population.”
“Doc, please. I can’t stay in isolation any longer.”
“Let’s wait at least one more week.” Demory raised his hand to forestall a protest. “I have some news you’ll be happy about. Jeffrey will be here tomorrow.”
Starks leapt from the chair. “What time?”
“Visiting hours are from eight in the morning until two in the afternoon. Jeffrey said he’d be here by ten. Once he’s waiting in the visitation room, a guard will get you and take you there.”
“Doc, I appreciate all you’re doing for me.”
After the door closed behind his patient. Demory added a few notes to the notepad, one of them being General Population, with several questions marks behind the words.
CHAPTER 46
EVEN THOUGH EXCITEMENT disrupted his sleep, Starks hopped out of bed early with vigor that felt more like his former self.
He went to the small metal sink, wet his hands and smoothed his hair into place, promising his reflection t
hat he’d get a haircut as soon as he was back in a regular cell. Shaving resulted in several nicks brought about by trembling hands. He stripped off his scrubs and did the best he could to freshen up using the hard stub of soap and cold water then put on his only other clean set of scrubs once his skin dried.
Breakfast was, as always, uninspiring, but he ate every bite, mostly by rote. His mind was too full of what to say to Jeffrey and how his friend might react to seeing him.
The wait seemed interminable. Several times he got up to pace then changed his mind. He didn’t want to work up a sweat.
Finally, he heard a knock on the steel door. Starks smiled. Only Ted Landers would knock.
The door opened and Ted said, “Mr. Starks, your visitor’s here.”
“Officer Landers, good to see you. It’s been a while. Everything okay with you?”
“Had a nasty case of flu. I’m better now. I noticed this is your first visitor since you’ve been here.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing a familiar face.”
Jakes entered the cell and scowled as he listened to the exchange between guard and prisoner while putting the restraints on Starks.
It was a long, shuffling walk down one corridor to another and another.
Starks glanced at Ted. “What’s the visitors’ room like?”
Jakes answered, “It’s not for you; that’s for damn sure.”
Ted told him, “That’s enough from you.”
Starks halted and turned a puzzled face toward Ted. “What does he mean?”
“You have a different set-up. Because you’re in solitary.” At Starks’s confused expression, he continued. “You have what’s called a non-contact visit. You’re going to a booth that has a glass partition separating you and your visitor. You’ll be able to see and hear each other; you use a phone to talk.
“We need to keep walking, Mr. Starks. Don’t want to keep your visitor waiting.”
Starks raised his hands to wave at Jeffrey and watched his friend’s smile fade when he saw the restraints.
“When you’re ready,” Ted told him, “we’ll come back to get you.”
