1 3 7 – ZOË (10 page)

“
Uma caipirinha, por favor
,” Lance said. 

***

The CCT scheduled snow for three o’clock in the afternoon.  By three fifteen I had a cup of cocoa in my hand and watched fat, lazy snowflakes fall from the sky.  My thoughts were racing.  Maria and Carlos both had the day off.  I waited until Juana went grocery shopping earlier this morning to search the garage and even the wine cellar for the missing trunk, but I found nothing.  Where the hell was it?  My wrist-phone buzzed and I assumed the call was from London, but instead it was Lance.  He was wearing a baseball cap and a short sleeved shirt.

“Hey, Zoë!”

“Lance, what a nice surprise.”

“Is that snow I see
over your shoulder?”

I held my wrist closer to the window. 
“Yes, isn’t it pretty?  Where are you?”

“Costa Rica
.  I needed some sunshine.  You and Michael should come meet me.  It’s nice and warm here and the diving is great.”

“Sounds like fun, but Michael is away on business.”

“Really?  I wanted to get his opinion on a real estate deal.”  

“He’s in London.  You have his
number don’t you?”

“
Of course, I do.  I tried to call him several times but I keep getting his message box.  That’s why I called you.”  He paused and added, “No matter, I’ll talk to him eventually.  So, what have you been up to, lately?”

I
debated whether or not to tell him about the trunk.  “Oh, nothing much.” 

His brow creased in concern. 
“Are you all right, Zoë?”  I nodded, but he appeared unconvinced. “Well, you have my number if you need anything,” he added. 

“
If Michael calls me I’ll let him know you’re trying to get in touch with him.”

“You do that.  Oh, by the way, did he mention what he’s doing in London?”

I shook my head.  “No, he usually doesn’t divulge details.”

“
Right.  I’ll call you later to check up on you.  Stay warm and remember what I said; I’m here for anything you need, okay?”

“Thank you.”

Our eyes locked for a moment.  Juana walked into the room and came to stand behind me.

“Hello, Juana,” Lance said cheerfully. 

“Hello, Mr. Adams,” Juana said.  “Excuse me, Mrs. Adams, I didn’t realize you were busy.”

“I was just saying goodbye,” Lance said.

“Thank you for calling,” I said.

The screen went blue.  I turned my
attention to Juana, irritated that she had interrupted our conversation.   “What did you need to speak with me about?”

Juana looked smug. 
“Oh, I just wanted to know whether you preferred steak or chicken for dinner.”

“Surprise me.”
             

***

Lance called Brady after hanging up with Zoë. 

“Well?” Brady asked.

“She has no idea what’s going on.  Michael told her that he went to London on business and didn’t share any details.”

Brady nodded.
  “You didn’t mention anything that would tip her off that you’re in Rio, did you?”

“Of course not.  You’ve got to give me more credit than that, Brady.”

“Just making sure.”

“
What now?” Lance asked.

“
Your presence in Rio may be discovered and compromise our investigation.  We’ll get you out on the next plane.  Maybe you should take advantage of your brother’s absence to pay Zoë a visit.  Maybe you can sneak into his office again.”

Lance nodded.

“We’ll stay in touch,” Brady said.  “There’ll be a ticket waiting for you at the airport.  If you leave now you can make the next flight, which is in two hours.  Have a safe trip.”

Lance quickly
checked out of the hotel and hailed a cab.  He looked forward to seeing Zoë again.

***

Later that night, Maddy and I sat in Babette’s Bistro.  Located on the top floor of one of the new high-rises I had first noticed from the hospital window, the trendy French restaurant specialized in Provencal cuisine.  The view of Capitol Hill and the White House dome was spectacular from such a great height.  Our waiter had just uncorked a bottle of Bordeaux Blanc and was pouring its contents into two wine glasses.

“This was a great idea, Maddy.  It’s so quiet at home without Michael
.”

“I know, I’m glad you called me
,” Maddy said before inhaling and tasting the wine.  “Mmmm…this is good.  The sommelier obviously knows his stuff.”

I
tasted it and agreed.  The fragrant white wine would go perfectly with the
salade Nicoise
we had ordered
.

Maddy selected a piece of crusty bread
from the basket.  “When does Michael get back from London?”

“He calle
d this morning to say he should be home in a couple of days.”

“That’s good.”

I helped myself to some bread, too.  “Lance called me this afternoon.”

“Really?
  What’s he up to?”

“H
e’s in Costa Rica.”

Maddy sat forward in her chair and announced candidly
, “He is
so
cute.  Actually, he’s gorgeous.”

“Maddy!”

She cocked her head to the side and said, “Well he
is
.”

“
I once asked him why you two never got together.”

S
he smiled broadly, as if the idea humored her.  “And he said…?”

“He said y
ou looked too much like me and it would be weird.”

Maddy’s eyebrows shot upward. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He didn’t mean it in a bad way…he thinks you’re-
we’re
- beautiful.  He just meant that it would be strange, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

“Why not ask him out?” I prompted.  “You’re both single.” 

She scrunched up her face and shrugged. 
Maddy was beautiful, smart and talented. And then I realized something. 

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend, Maddy?”

She smirked.  “I was wondering when you were going to ask that question.”

I
felt ashamed for not having noticed sooner.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

I placed my head in my hands.  “I’m a bad sister, huh?”

“N
onsense!  Gee, Zoë, give yourself a break.  In the last ten months you basically came back from the dead, played a twenty year catch-up game, been constantly bombarded by the media and recently lost your mother.  My love life is rather insignificant compared to that, don’t you think?”

I
reached across the table for Maddy’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

The
waiter came out with two huge salads.  “
Bon Appétit
,” he said.

We looked
down at our dinners.  Fresh organic lettuce topped with ripe tomatoes, green beans, olives, boiled eggs, rare tuna, anchovies and homemade vinaigrette.  We both poured extra olive oil on our meals and added some ground black pepper before digging in.

Maddy speared a piece of tuna with her fork and put it in her mouth.  “Yum.”
 

“Well?” I
asked.

She stopped chewing and looked up at me. 
“It’s delicious.”

I laughed. 
“Not the tuna. 
Boyfriend.
  Why don’t you have one?”

“Oh, tha
t.  Zoë, I’m gay.”

I stared at my
sister in surprise.

“Never suspected, did you
?” she asked.

“No…I mean, I remember you having crushes on boys in high school.”

“Yeah, well, that phase ended when I went to college and finally came out of the closet.”

I was saddened by the fact that I had missed this important part of my sister’s life.  “How did mom and dad take it?”

Maddy shrugged.  “Dad seemed to take it a little harder than mom, but they were both supportive.  I think they must have suspected I didn’t like men.”

“I completely understand, trust me.  I mean, I know I got lucky with Michael, but some of my ex-boyfriends were real duds.”

She cocked her eyebrow.  “Oh, I remember all too well.”  I laughed at her candidness and she asked, “You really had no clue?” 

I shook my head.  “I just assumed you were heterosexual because you’ve always wanted children.”

“I have every intention of having them in the future.  I just don’t want a father in the picture.  The truth is I simply have no stomach for men.”

“So, do you plan to visit a sperm bank when the time comes?”

Maddy took a sip of wine.  “Oh, Zoë, it’s so easy to have a child now!  Just like going through the cafeteria line.  There’s this big computer that takes your information; age, occupation, salary and so forth.  Then, the computer does a thorough background check to see if you have any criminal records or history of abuse or anything like that.  If everything checks out and you are approved, you may then proceed to create your custom baby.”

I stopped chewing. 
“A custom baby?”

Maddy nod
ded and placed a forkful tomato into her mouth.  She chewed and swallowed before speaking again.  “The computer asks your input on a series of questions such as preferred sex, race, eye color and hair color.  Once you have chosen those, you can then pick the donor who complements your genes.  For example, let’s say I was creative and artistic; I might want to pick a brainy doctor or a professor to be the father to balance it out.  You can pick a donor for their academic abilities or their talents.  It’s truly amazing.”

I sat back and drank some wine. 
“When was this system placed in effect?”

“About five years ago.  They just came out with an egg bank two yea
rs ago.  It’s for men who don’t wish to have a woman involved.  It’s only fair.”

“Do they hire surrogates to carry the child?”

“No, too many lawsuits and custody issues.  Everything is done inside a lab with an artificial womb.”

“How fascinating…”

“Michael was behind that, you know.”

I sat up straight. 
“Really?”

“Yes.  He funded the
same research team that found a cure for the Pod.  Since so many women were dying and becoming sterile, scientists frantically searched for ways to create synthetic female reproduction.  Those were scary times, Zoë.  Be glad that you slept through it.”

“The country was afraid of being wiped out?”

“You bet.  Americans feared extinction from the Pod.  Can you imagine?  I have to admit, the terrorists created a brilliant weapon; a virus that either killed a woman or made her sterile.  They went straight for the most precious natural resource- the female population.”

“Bril
liant, but terrifying,” I pointed out.

Maddy and I continued to enjoy our salads as she regaled me with tales of the past.  We ended the night with
decadent
crème
brûlée
and the promise to see each other again very soon.

***

Lance visited the Ashford Gallery the following day.  I was in the middle of speaking with a client about a new painting.  I nodded to him and smiled.  He held up his hand as if to say
take your time
. Ten minutes later, my client received a call and had to leave.  She promised to return next week with her designer.  I bade her farewell and walked up to Lance. 

“Good morning,” I
said, feeling oddly glad that I’d chosen to wear a fitted black skirt and crisp white shirt.  I looked professional and feminine.             

“So, i
s she buying the painting?” he asked with a playful smile.

“She wants her designer
to see it first, but I think she will.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks.  So, how was Costa Rica?”

He feigned a shiver and pulled his wool coat tighter across his chest as he looked at the snow outside. 
“Hot.”

“And the real estate deal?”
  Lance looked at me blankly, so I prompted him.  “You wanted to speak with Michael about real estate, remember?  Did you manage to get a hold of him?”

“Oh
, yeah…that.  I decided not to buy.”

“Why not?”

“The heat in the summer is unbearable and there are too many bugs.”

“I would think the CCT woul
d solve that problem.”

“The CCT is a very expensive
luxury and not available in many countries.  Costa Rica is one of them.”