Unholy Birth

by Andrew Neiderman

  I knew Willy was being patient with me. I was being heavy and no fun. She was afraid that if we brought a child into our home and lives, we would lose the carefree world in which we worked and frolicked, and here I was sinking into that muck and mire already. We would become like our own parents and play the heavies who always saw the negatives, the dangers, the waste and somehow forgot the joy of living. I had to do my best to dissuade her of that. I would lose nothing. We would lose nothing. We would only gain.

  As soon as we were home, I rushed to dress, to spruce up my hair and my face and look like the high femme she was proud to escort and show off, especially in a place like The Meadow. It was a restaurant in Rancho Mirage, off Frank Sinatra Drive. Once it had been a hot jazz club frequented by all the old Hollywood celebrities who had originally put Palm Springs on the map as the playground of the rich and famous. Some of the old photographs remained on the walls, even though the establishment had been redesigned with bright colors, leather seats, a brass bar, and gilded mirrors. It was ostentatious, flashy, and reeking of the glitzy well-to-do gay community, although the food was so good and so well priced, it was frequented by heterosexuals as well. Willy had me terrified of even thinking the word straight, much less saying it.

  It turned out to be one of those spontaneous evenings when many of our friends had the same idea and just showed up. By the time we arrived, the bar truly resembled a watering hole. All forms of creatures, large and small, hovered over it, jabbering, laughing, drinking, and flirting. There was so much heat and excitement, I thought the air would fill with static electricity and jolt those dining in the room to the right and even in the enclosed garden patio.

  Marlee Peters, a tall, thin dyke with light brown hair, pretended to be the owner. No one challenged her even though just about everyone in our world knew she was fronting for a wormy accountant who worked his ownership through some Nevada corporation to keep it, along with some other valuable assets, out of his wife’s reach. California was a community property state, and there were too many divorces. Fewer and fewer had the patience, the tolerance for conflict. It was easier to get a divorce attorney. The joke was he or she took the first steps to divorce today: He or she got married. Confidence in a lifetime relationship was at an all-time low, even in the so-called Bible belt states.

  “Well, look who’s here,” Marlee cried from the corner of the bar when she saw us enter. “Jack and Jill.”

  “Hello Marlee,” Willy said. “What you do, advertise free pussy tonight?”

  Marlee shrugged.

  “I won’t charge you,” she said.

  She had been flirting with Willy for as long as I knew both of them, but Willy didn’t consider her homosexual. She considered her asexual. She told me Marlee reminded her of a praying mantis. “She was born of some insect.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind next time I’m desperate, without hope, and a few seconds from committing suicide,” Willy told her. Those who heard roared. A space at the bar was instantly created for Willy, which meant for me as well. Willy was always clearing a way for me.

  Despite the little verbal duel between Marlee and Willy, they, along with everyone else, quickly got into the ebb and flow of usual banter, discussing political issues, music, the newest vacation destinations for gays, even clothes and medical topics. These people were highly successful in their businesses and their professions. At that bar were doctors, dentists, lawyers, and teachers. For the most part, most were well read and well educated. None of them felt they were somehow denied the benefits of life in the mainstream.

  Just like everyone else, I was soon having a good time. I put on a little buzz with the wine and looked forward to a great dinner. I was more vulnerable, I guess, so when Janet slipped beside me to congratulate me, I smiled with confusion, but without any fear or anxiety.

  “For what?” I asked.

  “On deciding to have a baby, to have the responsibility of bringing up a child. I think that’s terrific. For you. Not for me,” she added with a smile. “But I do have to admire your guts. Who wants to bring up children today? And bottles and diapers? Ugh.”

  I simply stared at her.

  And then, recouping, I smiled and said, “I suppose your parents asked themselves that hundreds of times after you were born.”

  “You know, fuck you, Kate. I was just trying to be nice.”

  “Keep trying. You have a ways to go,” I said, and she turned and shouldered her way out of the crowd.

  Willy, always watching after me, caught it and stepped over.

  “What was that about?”

  For a moment I was unable to speak. Then I turned on her.

  “You went and told people?”

  “What?”

  “About my deciding to get pregnant, about our deciding to have a child. You told? I would have thought you would wait until I actually became pregnant, Willy. What if it doesn’t work? What if…”

  “I haven’t told anyone anything,” she said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kate.”

  “Yeah, right. How the hell would Janet Madison know? You should have heard her half-ass congratulations. Her little digs. Thanks.”

  “I told you I didn’t tell anyone,” Willy said.

  Paula Benson was nudging her to listen to her new joke. I glared at her and then walked out of the restaurant. I didn’t even realize I had taken the glass of wine with me. I went to our car and stood beside it, fuming. Every time the restaurant’s door opened, the laughter, chatter and music flowed out like smoke. An elderly couple went by, both looking at me oddly because I was standing there with a glass of wine in the parking lot. I could see from the way they walked faster to their car that I unnerved or frightened them. The slightest thing out of the ordinary rang alarms these days. I couldn’t fault them. I was just as neurotic and I was probably half their age if that.

  “First,” I heard Willy say, “I don’t know why it would bother you so much. You’re not going to be doing this in secret. You didn’t intend to leave the area for nine months, did you?”

  “That’s not the point, Willy,” I said, turning to her and leaning against the car. “This is our business. Our is the operative word here. We decide when everyone else finds out about this.”

  “I told you. I didn’t tell anyone anything,” she said with her jaw taut. “I just grabbed Janet by the scruff of her neck and pulled her aside. She heard it from Tommy Ryan at the plant.”

  “Tommy Ryan?”

  “He’s in there,” she said, nodding toward the restaurant. “Didn’t you see him on the other end of the bar?”

  “No. But how would Tommy know?”

  “Eve,” she said. “When he was showing her the kitchen equipment, they got into a discussion about how she found out about us, et cetera, and she told him how you had gone to the doctor her sister works for and why. I’m sure it was just an innocent thing on her part. She probably had no idea you’d want it kept secret.

  “Besides, you know how difficult it is to keep anything secret in this town. People feed on gossip like vampires feed on blood. Now, you’ve gone and made Janet think you wanted it to be secret and she’ll come up with all sorts of reasons that will make it look even more peculiar.”

  “She better not.”

  “I warned her. Don’t worry, but that won’t stop it from happening behind our backs. What I suggest we do is turn around, go back in there, and announce it to as many people as we can. Put the fire out before it starts.”

  “Now?”

  “Events have a way of choosing their own births and deaths.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?” She stepped closer, studying my face. “I ask you again, Kate, are you having serious second thoughts?”

  “No, it’s not that. It just isn’t exactly how I had hoped we would tell people…blab it over a bar.”

  She shrugged.

  “Good a place as any. Half of them won’t remember what we said. Well?” />
  “This new employee better understand we don’t gossip about our private lives, Willy, especially if you’re going to permit her to live in our casita for a while.”

  “I’ll talk to her. As I said, I’m sure it was all done innocently. Don’t you agree?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Good. Committing yourself, us, to this is important now, Kate. Going in there and telling some of our friends is just another way to seal it. Ready or not?”

  “Okay,” I said. “Okay.”

  “I hope I’m not twisting your arm the way you twisted mine for the last half a year.”

  “Okay, Willy. I get it,” I said.

  Although I made it seem ridiculous, I had the strangest sensation that now I was the one being talked into everything. What was it Willy had said, “Be careful what you wish for? You might get it?”

  We returned to the bar. A number of people had picked up on the tension and were waiting to see what we would do. Janet had returned, too, and was at the opposite end next to Tommy. She looked like she was in a sulk. If there was one person I knew she didn’t want disliking her, it was Willy.

  “Everything all right?” Paula asked us. That gave Willy an opening.

  “Yes, we’re just a little jittery these days.”

  “You are? Why?”

  “We’ve made a major decision, a major commitment,” she replied, and looked at me.

  “What decision?”

  “I’m going to have a baby,” I offered.

  “Have a baby? You mean, like in I’m pregnant?”

  “It’s about the way I’d put it, yes,” I said, and glanced at Willy, who was smiling.

  Paula, however, suddenly looked at me strangely.

  “What?”

  “Are you pregnant now?” she asked, and both Willy and I immediately knew where she was going.

  “No,” I said. “And don’t you dare say that I am. I’ve never been bisexual, Paula.”

  She looked skeptical.

  “Even as a teenager? I was,” she said before I could reply. “It’s just natural to experiment.”

  “I didn’t need to. I knew who I was,” I said, just as much for Willy as for her.

  “Good for you. So, if you’re not pregnant, when and how will you be?”

  “Soon,” I said.

  “Is it going to be one of those lab things? They take one of your eggs and…”

  “No. It’s a home insemination. Just with the sperm,” I followed with emphasis.

  She laughed. I never thought of Paula as being very intelligent. She got by on her charm and enthusiasm. She worked as a dental hygienist and, from what I heard, was best with children.

  “Do they give the sperm a name these days?” she asked, looking to Willy and hoping she would be as lighthearted as she was.

  “Yes,” Willy said. “They do.”

  “And what would that be, Willy?”

  “Dick,” Willy said.

  Paula’s loud peal of laughter stopped conversations behind and around us.

  “I’m hungry,” I told Willy.

  “Me too. Shall we to the table go?”

  She scooped her arm through mine, nodded at Paula, who was holding that silly smile, and walked us into the dining room. We sat and watched how the news spread around the bar. Faces turned our way. Willy nodded and smiled back at some.

  “That’s it,” she said between her teeth as she smiled. “There’s no turning back now.”

  She picked up her wineglass to tap against mine.

  “To the three of us,” she said. “Whoever he or she might be.”

  “To the three of us.”

  I shivered with expectations. I saw how many of our friends were looking at us and whispering.

  This change we would bring about in our lives had actually begun.

  8.

  EVE MOVED IN the following afternoon. From what she brought with her, I concluded Willy was probably right about her not being all that well fixed financially. She had three cartons of clothing, four garment bags, two suitcases, a carton of books, and a box of her personal toiletries. Everything fit easily in the back of her SUV. It took us less than five minutes to carry it all into the casita, which wasn’t big enough to take much more anyway.

  She couldn’t stop thanking us for our generosity, and made promise after promise to be a loyal, efficient employee.

  “And you know,” she added after she was settled in, “I don’t mind helping out with the baby.”

  “Pardon?” I said.

  “For a while I took care of my brother’s baby.”

  “Your brother’s baby?” I looked at Willy. Something told me she knew all this. “Why couldn’t his wife take care of the baby?”

  “She died in childbirth. It’s so unusual these days, I know,” Eve said quickly.

  “Dr. Aaron wasn’t her doctor, was she?” I asked.

  “Oh no. My brother and his wife lived in New York. Not in the city. A small town upstate.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Two years ago,” she said. “It was very, very sad.”

  Something else occurred to me.

  “Was your sister-in-law inseminated?”

  She looked at Willy. The expressions on their faces provided the answer.

  “She was? By Genitor?”

  “No, it was a company on the East coast, but…”

  “Who is helping your brother now?” I asked.

  “Oh, he remarried. I hung around for a while, but I didn’t want to get in the way and I had to get back to my own work and career. That was when I came out to California.”

  I nodded. Willy was just staring at me, making me feel bad for asking so many personal questions. I didn’t want to know anymore anyway.

  “Okay,” I said. “If there is anything else you need, let me or Willy know.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks again, you two,” she said. “I’m heading over to the plant. I want to get as familiar with everything as quickly as possible.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “I’ll be there soon myself. I have some work to complete on the books.”

  I walked out and returned to the main house, leaving her and Willy behind. The casita was just off to the right of the pool. We had intended to use it as a guest house, but had not yet invited anyone.

  Once again, I found myself feeling strange, even trembling a little inside, and not knowing why exactly. I poured myself a glass of energy water and stood in the kitchen leaning against the counter and thinking.

  “Well, how about that?” Willy asked, entering and going to the refrigerator. “We might have a built-in babysitter, too.”

  “I’m beginning to think we did win the lottery.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Willy said, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “What’s that expression? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?”

  “You knew none of this? You didn’t know her sister-in-law went through an insemination process and died in childbirth?”

  “How would I know any of that? I met her when you did and spent the same time with her you did.”

  “Dr. Matthews didn’t mention it to you?” I asked suspiciously. “She didn’t describe Eve’s experience taking care of an infant?”

  I wondered if she was already thinking of ways for us to pawn off our child with some nanny.

  “No. Why should she? How could she volunteer her cousin for anything like that anyway?”

  I was silent.

  “Kate?”

  “Just curious. I never won anything in my life, especially not a lottery.”

  Willy laughed.

  “Sometimes,” she said, stepping closer, “you’re so like a child, a beautiful child.” She touched my cheek and then kissed me softly. “Good things are coming our way. Get used to it,” she whispered.

  “Okay,” I said, wishing I had her confidence in our destiny.

  “I have to pick up some things at the market. I’ll meet you at the plant,” she said
.

  “Right.”

  She left and I looked at the telephone. There was a call I had been putting off, but suddenly, I wanted to hear my mother’s voice even if that voice would, I know, be full of shock and surprise. It would also be comforting just to hear her.

  “You and Willy are having a child?” she repeated as would someone who had to confirm she was hearing correctly after I had told her.

  “Yes, Mom.”

  She was silent.

  “You’re adopting a child?”

  “No, Mom. I’m having a baby. We’re having a baby.”

  I could envision the way her face moved: her lips rotated counterclockwise, her eyes went up and then down, and then she pulled her mouth back and deepened all the wrinkles around them and into her chin. My father wasn’t home or else she would be repeating it all for him. For some reason they never liked to pick up two phones so they could listen in and talk simultaneously. The concept of a conference call was beyond them. Even though they were not terribly old people, they shook their heads at every technological advancement as if it were part of some black magic. Unlike most of their senior citizen friends who circulated jokes on e-mails, often sending the same ones twice, they did not have a computer and still thought of the Internet the way some primitive African tribe thought of the telephone or electricity.

  “And how are you having this baby? Willy didn’t have some sort of sex change, did she?”

  “No, Mom,” I said, finally feeling light enough to laugh. “I’m undergoing home insemination.”

  “It’s an injection?”

  “Sort of,” I said.

  “Into…you know where?”

  “That’s it, Mom. In a nutshell.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No, of course not. It’s not guaranteed to work the first time and maybe not the second or even the third, but I’m starting in a few days. Willy and I have discussed it and decided we’d like to have a child, be more of a family.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to tell people,” she said. It was more of one of her thoughts she hadn’t kept contained.

  “You’ll tell them you have another grandchild and it will be the truth.”

  “I don’t know anything about this insemination.”