“It’s more like the third trimester,” I said.
“So that’s even more implausible. Third trimester?”
“Yes, third trimester! I’ve gained nearly twenty-five pounds, Willy. My lower back aches every time I sit for more than fifteen minutes. My breasts are even more enlarged. Look at this,” I said, pointing to my stomach and then to my breasts. “Look at these stretch marks.”
She nodded.
“I think we should go to a therapist, Kate.”
“Oh, WE should go?”
“What happens to you, happens to me, remember?”
“Your breasts and your stomach aren’t bulging. Mine are!”
“Okay, we should take you to a therapist. Dr. Aaron gave me the name of someone nearby.”
“I thought she said under the circumstances it would soon not matter whether I went to one or not.”
“Obviously, for you now it matters.”
“Oh, just for me.”
“I know you’re upset and testy, Kate, but I’m trying to do what would be best for you.”
“Upset and testy, the weaker one again. I wonder how you would be after someone tried to hit you with a poison dart and then called you and called you to scare and threaten you. Even you, Willy the Super Dyke, might crack.”
“Stop it, Kate.”
“Even you might crack after you found a man dead in your pool lounge chair with a dart sticking in his neck.”
I felt the tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Are you going to get hold of yourself or what?” Willy said approaching.
I stared up at her. She looked as if she might strike me and it frightened me. I imagined that was her intent.
“I want it to end,” I said and looked down.
She was silent and then she put her hand softly on my hair and drew my head to her. I felt her lips on my forehead. She took the glass from my hands and guided me back into the bed.
“I know. That’s why we should get you some treatment. I really am exhausted,” she said. “Let’s talk about it all in the morning, late morning.”
She began to take off her clothes. I watched her undress, turn off the standing lamp, and then slip under the blanket beside me. Her lips grazed my cheek and her left hand slipped up and over my ribs to caress my breast.
“I’m not physically distasteful to you?”
“You’re voluptuous,” she whispered.
“Yeah, right.”
“Relax,” she said, bringing her mouth to my breasts and nipples and then kissing her way down and over my distended stomach. The moment her lips moved below my belly button, I felt a terrific rumble within, a distinct quickening. I seized her head at her temples and kept her face buried in my stomach until she pulled away.
“Did you feel it?” I asked. “Well? Didn’t you?”
“Feel what?”
“Damn it, Willy, that movement inside me, what Dr. Aaron called the quickening. Couldn’t you feel it?”
“I didn’t feel anything, Kate. I’m sorry.”
First Trinity felt nothing when I did and now Willy. I wanted to scream. I did open my mouth and I did scream, but inside myself.
She shifted away from me.
“I guess we both should just get some sleep. It will all seem different in the morning. Late morning,” she added. She kissed my cheek and turned over. I lay there with my eyes open looking into the darkness.
“I’m sorry,” I said after a few minutes. My head was so heavy. It felt clogged with thoughts, fears, images. “I should have asked you more about the party.”
I waited, but she didn’t respond. I could hear her heavy breathing. She is spent, I thought. She was going to make love to me just to help me feel better. I’m such an ungrateful bitch. She was right. There wasn’t anything we could do right now anyway, but why didn’t Trinity tell her about the dart? That was far more important than another threatening phone call. They tried to kill me.
Maybe Willy did know but was pretending she didn’t just to keep me calm, to prevent my hysteria from getting worse. Maybe I would see the therapist. Maybe he or she would help me bring this condition to an end and we could start anew. If I did that, if I lost all the symptoms, perhaps those fanatics would learn about it and leave us alone. It was worth a try. It comforted me to think so.
The ache started in my lower back again. I turned on my side and closed my eyes. Get some sleep, I told myself. Don’t let events take over. Get control. I felt myself drifting off and smiled with gratitude, grateful to a body that was finally being cooperative. For a few hours at least, I wasn’t going to be at war with myself. I wouldn’t feel as if I were separated from my own flesh and blood. I wouldn’t feel like I had lost it, like a Kate Dobson trapped inside someone else.
I slept.
When I awoke in the morning, I discovered Willy had already risen. It was nearly noon. I called for her, but heard nothing. I did feel stronger and rose quickly, put on my robe and went out to look for her. There was a note on the kitchen table. She said she wanted to let me sleep and she had gone to the plant to handle the cleanup and setup after the big event. She told me to call her as soon as I had gotten up. I was about to do so when I out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone moving in the direction of the casita.
I went to the patio door and watched Trinity, gun drawn, moving very slowly, a bit in a crouch. I watched, mesmerized.
A very tall, caramel-colored man, who looked more like a professional basketball player than a security guard, came up on her right. She nodded at him and they drew closer to the casita. I saw her pause at the door and then nod at him and go in. He followed. I waited. After a good five minutes or so, they both emerged, their guns holstered.
I opened the patio door.
“What’s going on?”
The tall man went toward the rear of the property. Trinity came my way.
“We thought we saw someone run across the yard and go into the casita,” she said.
“And?”
“No one there. Kerry Barnes is checking out the grounds again. How are you?”
“Why didn’t you tell Willy about the dart?” I asked.
She shrugged.
“I didn’t think she was that interested in it.”
“What?”
“The poison you mean?”
“No. The dart in my bed? The attempt on my life? Hello,” I sang.
She shook her head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said and started away.
“What? What do you mean? Trinity!” I screamed.
She turned and looked at me.
“You had a bad night, Kate. Leave it at that,” she said and continued toward the front of the house.
I stood there, my jaw hanging.
“This is bullshit!” I screamed and backed into the house, slamming the patio door closed.
Few a few moments, I just stood there trying to make sense of it all, my heart thumping as if something was trying to break out of my chest. My whole body was shaking. I drank some cold water and calmed myself. Then I looked at Willy’s note and hurried to the phone. It rang so long, I thought I had dialed the wrong number.
“Hey,” she said when Tony put her on. “How are you?”
“I think I’m going crazy, otherwise, I’m just a perfect example of pseudocyesis.”
She laughed.
“You sound stronger.”
“I thought I was, but this woman, androgyny, whatever she is, is trying to make me think I’m going nuts.”
“What do you mean? What woman?”
“Trinity, my security guard. The one who didn’t tell you about the poison dart in my bed, remember?”
“So?”
“I asked her why she didn’t tell you and she made me feel as though I imagined the whole thing.”
Willy was quiet.
“I didn’t imagine it, Willy. I saw the dart. I saw her take it away.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll speak to her as
soon as I can get free. We’re overwhelmed here.”
“I swear it happened. Maybe she didn’t tell you because they’re afraid of your knowing how dangerous this has become for me. Maybe they think we’ll cancel the next insemination. Maybe…”
“Kate, you don’t need anyone to drive you crazy. You’re driving yourself crazy. I told you we’ll get to the bottom of it. For now I’ve got my hands full getting this place in order, machinery, products…on top of which, we still have our regular customers.”
“You should have woken me when you woke so I could get there to help.”
“It’s under control for the moment, but I’ll need you back here as soon as you can get yourself together and drive over, okay? There’s a ton of paperwork to be entered into the computer and the phones aren’t stopping. The party was so successful for us that we’re getting tons of new inquiries and Tommy isn’t exactly an ideal receptionist. He still thinks yeah is a synonym for hello.”
“Eve isn’t doing any of it?”
She was silent too long.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“We’ll talk about it when you get here.”
“What do you mean, we’ll talk about it? She’s not there? She’s not here. They just checked out the casita. Where is she? What’s going on, Willy? Did she quit on us? Why would she quit on us immediately after such a success?”
“Look, take a shower, have your breakfast, get dressed, and come over to the plant.”
“Willy, I’m not hanging up until you tell what’s going on with Eve,” I said firmly.
“Don’t freak out on me,” she replied.
“I’m not freaking out.”
“I’m warning you. I can’t come running over there right now, Kate. You’ll be on your own or I’ll just make a call to the paramedics.”
“I said I won’t freak out, Willy. I’m better, stronger, despite what my security guard is doing to me.” I stiffened myself for any new blow. “Well? Tell me!”
“She had a family tragedy,” she said.
“What? You mean, something happened to her father, her sister, the one who works for Dr. Aaron?”
“No. Her brother, his new wife, and their child. It happened early this morning.”
“What happened?”
“A house fire. They’re all dead,” she replied. “She had to go to Jackson to identify the bodies. I felt very bad for her. She was exhausted and then hit with this terrible, terrible thing.”
I didn’t speak.
The receiver felt soft in my hand. It was as if it were turning into putty and it would simply fold over into a mass of nothing. With it would go Willy’s voice and all she had just told me.
“You’re freaking, aren’t you? I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Do they know what caused the fire?”
“She didn’t know any more than what I just told you. I’m sure it’s an ongoing investigation. They lived in one of those fancy log cabins. Dried logs…out in the woods beyond any fire hydrants. It was probably something electrical. They were apparently caught fast asleep and trapped, probably dying of smoke inhalation.”
“No alarms?”
“I don’t know, Kate. She woke me very early and told me what I told you. She promised to call tonight.”
“Do they suspect arson? Well, do they?” I followed before she could answer.
“I just told you. Eve didn’t know any more than that.”
“They killed them,” I said in a heavy whisper. “They wanted to be sure they killed the baby.”
“What?”
“The child was created through the same insemination process and Eve told us her sister-in-law was harassed just as I’m being.”
“Stop it. Kate, do you hear me?”
I felt a deep and heavy shuddering inside me which caused a swift surge of icy cold up my spine. However, that was immediately followed by a warmth at the tips of my nipples. With my free hand, I opened my robe and looked at my breasts.
The receiver fell out of my hand, the wire swinging it into the wall. I could hear Willy calling for me.
“Kate! Kate, damn it.”
I picked up the receiver.
“Willy.”
“What is it? Are you freaking out on me? Kate?”
“Willy, my breasts….”
“What? Damn it, Kate. What?”
“They’re leaking,” I said. “Just as they would for a woman in her third trimester.”
16.
I RETURNED TO BED.
Twenty minutes later, Willy appeared in the bedroom doorway.
“C’mon,” she said.
“What?”
“Get up, Kate. I’m taking you to see the doctor now. C’mon,” she ordered, her hands on her hips, snapping a command like a marine drill sergeant.
There was no sympathy or compassion in her face, just raw rage. I rose quickly.
“You didn’t have to come running home, Willy.”
“Yeah, right. You’re gaining weight every minute. People are blowing poison darts at you and your breasts are leaking. I’ll just hang in there and make sure the shrink wrapper is greased.”
“Willy…”
“You’ll remember I wasn’t for this,” she muttered as we started out of the house. “You’ll remember I said it would bring on serious problems.”
“I’m not blaming you for anything, Willy. Don’t worry about it,” I said.
She was silent.
I got into the company van she had parked in our driveway.
“Where’s Trinity?” I wondered aloud as I looked over the front and the street.
“Forget about Trinity. Let’s just concentrate on you,” Willy said, started the engine and drove out so fast, we bounced at the end of the driveway. I hadn’t even put on my seat belt.
“Jesus,” I screamed, hurrying to do so.
“I told you not to freak out on me, but no, you had to hear about Eve’s family. You just had to know it all right away.”
“I didn’t freak out, but I can’t explain this,” I said gesturing at my breasts.
She was silent, her face cast in an iron mask of blatant rage.
“Just when things are really happening for us,” she muttered, “you have to come completely apart and become mental on me.”
I started to cry.
“Don’t,” she said. “Or I swear I’ll drive into a tree.”
“Where are we going? To Dr. Aaron?”
“No,” she said, and handed me a business card.
It read, Dr. Sandra Yan. Individual and couples therapy.
“You should take me to our doctor, Willy. I’m not a nutcase.”
“Let’s just see what this therapist has to say. Please,” she added. “Just cooperate or soon I’ll be going to see the therapist and not you.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I really am!”
She looked at me and her face softened.
“Okay, like you said. Let’s not blame anyone for anything, Kate, not even ourselves. We’ll get through it,” she said with her characteristic confidence. It did feel good to be leaning on her again.
We drove to Palm Desert and turned onto the beautiful El Paseo area, where the streets were lined with upscale clothing stores, art galleries, restaurants, and offices for plastic surgeons as well as dentists. As soon as we turned up a side street, she pulled into a parking lot and found a space.
I looked back at the buildings behind us. There were three restaurants, a gift shop, and an art gallery in this section.
“Where’s this therapist?”
“Upstairs,” she said, nodding at a stairway that went to the second floor. I saw no sign.
“How did you know where to go?”
“I called,” she said. “How do you think? Let’s go,” she ordered and stepped out of the van.
I followed her up the stairs. The door had a gold plaque with the engraved name, Dr. Sandra Yan. It said nothing else. She pressed a buzzer and brought her lips to a small micr
ophone in the wall.
“Wilma Radcliff and Kate Dobson,” she announced, and we heard the door buzzing.
She seized the handle and we entered a small lobby, if I could even call it a lobby. There was only a settee, a round hard cherry wood table and a standing lamp with a very ordinary yellow shade. There was nothing on any of the walls. Across from the settee was another door. It opened and a petite Chinese woman with her ebony hair in a tight bun smiled at us. Wearing an alluring lace cheongsam, she looked like a receptionist in a Chinese restaurant.
“Good afternoon,” she said. “Please, come in.”
She stepped back and we entered a somewhat larger room with the traditional psychiatrist’s couch, a chair, and a desk and chair. I saw some framed degrees on the walls and an abstract painting that looked like something extracted from a Rorschach test on the wall to my left.
“I’m Dr. Yan,” she said, extending her hand to me and then to Willy.
“Willy Radcliff. This is Kate.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said.
“What do I do, lie down on the couch?”
“Most comfortable way,” she said smiling. “But of course you can sit. You can even stand,” she added, still smiling. She looked at Willy.
“How long will it be?” Willy asked.
“An hour. Not longer,” she said.
“No paperwork?” I asked. “No insurance cards, forms to fill out?” Willy shot fire from her eyes at me, but I couldn’t help it.
“Time for that later. From what I’ve been told, more important we address your problem quickly. Please,” she said indicating the couch.
I went to it and sat.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” Willy told me. “Kate?”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m all right. Go.”
She left and Dr. Yan picked up a pad from her desk and sat in her chair. I couldn’t help thinking of Tony Soprano. Psychoanalysis still felt like Voodoo medicine to me.
“I have spoken at length with your doctor,” she began. “You know your diagnosis?”
“Yes, but I can’t believe these physical changes are a result of a mental condition.”
She widened her smile.
“Oh, you’d be surprised at what the mind can do to the body. Women who suffer false pregnancy have all the symptoms you have. Depression can alter the activity of the pituitary gland, mimicking symptoms.”
Unholy Birth Page 20
