Love Deluxe (10 page)

He breathed against my ear, “Oh, Mrs. Foster, what am I going to do with you?”

I stifled a moan and couldn’t tear my eyes away from his, their usual sky blue had turned to deep cobalt, the color of lust.  His hand was under my skirt, stroking the outside of my panties. I both craved and feared what would happen if he moved even one finger under the wet silk. He turned his body toward me so that I was shielded from the aisle by the width of his shoulders and back and the blanket I was under. He held my gaze in his for a moment longer, kissed me deeply and then with a hand at the back of my head he pressed my face into his shoulder. At the same moment he pulled the crotch of my panties aside and pushed a finger deep inside me. I bit into his shoulder to keep from crying out and felt tears slipping down my cheeks from the sheer power of my climax.

“That’s better, that’s what my baby needed,” he crooned and smiled down at me as I lay breathless and shuddering, clinging to him.

The morning after we returned home, I was rushing around unpacking, getting ready to go to my antiques shop when I was overcome by a wave of nausea. I ran to the bathroom and hugged the toilet just in time. John followed, knelt beside me and held my hair back.

“Buddy, what’s up, did you eat some bad clams?” he joked.

“Go away, go away, I’m sick, please, don’t see me like this!”

He handed me a cold wash cloth as I threw up again. As soon as he saw that he grabbed the trash can and vomited into it.

“Oh, God, we must have food poisoning! Ugh, it was that airline food.” I said, pressing the cool cloth to my face.

“No, I’m not sick,” he said. “I always throw up if I see someone else do it.”

“Are you kidding me? Get out of here, I’m sick, damn it!”

He looked pale and apologetic and left the room.

After I’d lost the entire contents of my stomach I ran a cool bath, undressed and climbed in. I only remembered feeling like this one other time and surely this couldn’t be the same.

John came in quietly, “Feeling any better, buddy, what happened?”

“Bad clams,” I said.

John would be leaving the next morning for Los Angeles for a few days. There were some things in storage he wanted to go through and have shipped to Texas. Two days before I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from him for a week, but suddenly I wanted some time alone. I’d been ill for several days and I was afraid I knew the reason why. I needed to talk to my doctor, I needed to talk to Emily, and I needed to talk to God.

Chapter Seven

Tara Rice had been my doctor for more than twenty years. She’d delivered Brooks and listened to me cry for years when I wasn’t able to get pregnant a second time. I’d always wanted a house full of kids and it just didn’t happen. For three years Henry and I did fertility shots and nearly ruined our marriage with my obsessiveness, mood swings and bouts of depression.

Dr. Rice sat me down finally and said, “You’re missing your son’s childhood trying to create another life that possibly wasn’t meant to be, can you see that, Cate? Can you give your perfect little boy all the love in your heart and know that there are couples who don’t even get the chance to love one child of their own?”

She was right and I knew it completely. From then on I loved my son and my husband the best way I knew how and I never thought of having another baby again. 

I sat in the familiar office across from the doctor who was also my friend and listened as she talked

“Well, the urine test was negative and the physical exam is inconclusive, your cervix doesn’t seem to be softened but it bleeds easily and is severely bruised. If you’re pregnant it’s very early on, Cate, we’ll do a blood test and I’ll have the results in the morning. I also want to check for infection due to the bleeding but it could just be trauma.

“Okay,” I said and just sat there staring at her.

“Cate, I have no idea what you’re feeling about this, I don’t want you to worry until we’ve taken these next steps. Just as a precaution you need to stop taking Xanax and Ambien. If you feel you need a mild tranquilizer I can prescribe one that wouldn’t affect the baby… should that be the case.”

She must have been shocked that I wasn’t ecstatic. Obviously she was trying to figure out which direction she should go to make me feel comfortable or at least safe.

She opened her office door and motioned for me to follow her, “Come on dear one, I’ll hold your hand, I know you hate to have blood drawn.”

In the tiny lab I began to hear a persistent clicking in my head and the smell of antiseptic made the bile rise in my throat. I sat in a chair with a padded arm that swiveled to keep me in place. Dr. Rice crouched down next to me talking while the technician swabbed my arm. I felt the rubber tube pinch as she tied it. She told me to make a fist, I felt the stick of the needle and everything went black.

I was in the dark but I was aware of people talking fast, feet moving and the distinct smell of a hospital. Dr. Rice was speaking and at first I couldn’t understand a thing she said but then my head began to clear. She told a nurse to get me some juice and crackers and let me lie down.

“Oh God, you scared me to death!” The lab-tech said as she slid a pillow under my head and held a straw to my lips. “I’ve never had anyone faint before, I thought you were having a stroke. Your face went white as chalk and your eyes were so green and your lips were so red. You really scared the devil out of me, it was the first time I had to break the ammonia ampule and use it.”

I wanted to tell her that was the way I always looked. The clicking in my head had stopped; I picked up a hand mirror from the counter and was shocked to see the absolute fear on my ghostly white face.

Dr. Rice came in and covered me with a warm blanket. She smoothed my hair as a mother would a child’s, smiled and said, “Just rest now. Emily is on her way.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “Okay,” was all I could manage, once again.

“Hey, faker, are you playing sick so you can skip school?” Emily breezed in, scooted my legs over and hopped up on the exam table with me. She wanted me to laugh, she needed to check my mental temperature. I turned from my side to my back so I could look her in the eye. When I saw her, the tears filled my eyes and spilled over so fast I covered my face with my hands and began to wail.

She gathered me in her arms, crying almost as hard as I was.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay, we’re gonna figure it out. I’ve got you Catey bug.”

The nurse peeked in the door followed by Dr. Rice who handed me a pill and a paper cup of water. I swallowed it and she said “That will calm you down and help you think straight.”

I followed Emily outside and was surprised that it was almost dark.

“I don’t know where my car is,” I said, and my voice sounded flat.

“Rob drove it home, not to worry.”

Her car was a big, smooth as silk Mercedes. We glided along the highway, she fiddled with some buttons on the dash and The Police began to sing
Every Breath You Take
.

She reached over and squeezed my hand, “This song is just for you and you can play it over and over and I won’t throw it out the window.”

I smiled then, and began to laugh, as did she, remembering when my mother threw my
Synchronicity
tape out of our moving car. Sick as she was of me and Emily playing it nonstop when we were teenagers. We were both laughing so hard that she had to pull the car over and stop. We were squinty eyed and sputtering trying to recall every detail of my mother’s huge permed hair and enormous shoulder pads and how she’d screamed that she was sick of all our morose bullshit and why didn’t we listen to some happy music once in a while, what did we have to be depressed about at our age, she wanted to know? Then the cassette tape went flying out the window of her land yacht Cadillac. When we got home she stormed up the driveway and broke the heel off one of her pumps and she turned and gave us the finger.

We were overcome with hilarity remembering my normally calm mother’s temporary lapse of sanity, just as we had been all those years ago.  We were such bratty, skinny, too-cool-for-school thirteen year olds in Madonna meets Flash Dance outfits with leg warmers, ankle boots and eye shadow so bright it could be seen from Jupiter.

“Oh Lord, oh my stomach hurts from laughing so hard! God, we were self-centered little shit-heads! Your poor mother, we gave her hell, we were horrid little creatures!”

We were both talking at once, wiping our eyes, picturing those bright days when we were still new to the planet and ready for anything.

“I don’t think I belong in this town anymore, Em,” I said as our laughter died away. “I need to vegetate at the beach, I need the
Wild Blue Yonder
and the anonymity of Seaside.”

“Well, go on then, bitch, just leave me here bored to death in the real world. But I’ve got news for you, sister— tonight I’m sleeping over,” she said and she cut her eyes sideways and stuck her tongue out to make me laugh again.

“You’re an idiot.” I told her.

“Takes one to know one!”

***

I skipped my nightly bath, brushed my teeth and pulled my oldest, softest nightgown over my head. I threw a gown to Emily; she caught it and disappeared into the bathroom. I settled into bed, turned on the TV and found reruns of the
Golden Girls
, it was familiar and comfortable. The phone rang and I jumped. I hated phones that rang when they should be silent, late at night, early in the morning, it was never good news. Dr. Rice was checking on me, she wanted me to take a sleeping pill, never mind what she’d said before, I should get some sleep.

Emily climbed into John’s side of the bed, noticed me taking the pill and asked, “What’s up, crack-head?”

“Dr. Rice called, take a sleeping pill, more good than bad, blah blah blah.”

She brought a magazine from the bathroom, turned on the bedside lamp and pretended to read for about two and a half seconds before turning to stare at me.

“What?” I asked.

“What? What? What are you thinking? I can’t even begin to know, and I… fucking need to know! So we can deal with it, handle it, I need to know what is going on in that slightly fucked up head of yours.”

I tilted my head at her and said, “That was two fucks, one more and I don’t know what, but that was two fucks.”

“No it wasn’t, it was a fucking and a fucked and I am going to say a lot more fucks if you don’t let me in.”

I let out a huge sigh and rubbed my eyes, “Em, I don’t know, I’m feeling…
everything
. My mind is just all over the place. It’s that buzz again, that nonstop voice in my head, my voice, like when Brooks … when I knew he was gone. Now it’s telling me to be happy, sad, scared. Do I dare take that chance? Can I do it again? Do all the things that need to be done for a brand new soul? The million and one lovely things involved in caring and shaping and loving and worrying and losing yourself in that new life. That it’s the best thing in the whole wide world. But, what if I do, what if, what if, and then… what if? I know what the stakes are now, the terrible risk, how if you have a child, you can lose one. That it’s more joy and more sorrow than anything else a human being can ever know.” 

“Okay, well at least you sound like yourself. So I know you haven’t fallen off the edge completely, but you sound close so let’s see if we can get to sleep. C’mon, get comfortable and watch some TV. Do you think you can you sleep? You look sleepy; I think that pill’s kicking in. Let’s watch the
Girls
. Look it’s the one where Rose asks if Jesus can stop by for dessert, you love this one. Remember when we used to watch the
Golden Girls
and talk to each other on the phone every night? Each in our own house, in our own beds with our husbands passed out beside us. We’d watch
Married with Children
, too, and laugh and make bitchy remarks about how trashy it was.”

I fell asleep to the sound of her voice, the voice of the girl I’d met my last year of elementary school, the girl who’d been part of my soul since we were eleven years old. I needed the sound of her voice to drown out the scourge of my own voice in my head.

***

The phone rang early the next morning and Dr. Rice hesitantly gave me the news, the test was negative. I wasn’t pregnant and I let out a long breath, it felt like a stone had been lifted off my heart.

“Dr. Rice, I need to be sure that I won’t ever have this… issue to worry about again. I should probably have my tubes tied… I guess.”

“Well, that’s your choice Cate and I completely understand. I do want you to stop by my office today at two and have a pelvic ultrasound. More than likely I’m going to want to perform a D and C. Your periods have been abnormal for a while now and it could be that you were pregnant for only a week or two and the embryo hasn’t been expelled. Don’t let that upset you it’s far more normal than most women realize. By the way, it would be quick and simple for John to have a vasectomy. My husband is a urologist, I could call his office and set up an appointment if you like.”

“I’d appreciate that,” I said. “And let’s go ahead and do what’s necessary, I’d like to get things back to normal.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll have the results of the ultrasound before you leave the office this afternoon and we can schedule the procedure then. Afterword you’ll need to abstain from intercourse for two weeks. I’m sure your new husband will be very understanding.”

“Right, thank you, see you at two.”

Emily had made herself a cup of coffee and she handed me a Diet Coke.

“In your favorite glass with a flexible straw, just the way you like it,” she said, the worry lines on her forehead were deep this morning. She sat at the end of the bed, sipping her coffee and her eyes never left me.

The moment of relief had passed and now I felt dead inside. “False alarm, but best to have a D and C in case it was a miscarriage,” I said. I took a sip of the Coke, tried to swallow and spit it all over the bed as I began to cry.

She leaned over and hugged me to her, and I sobbed and then wailed and I could feel her tears mingle with mine.

“Honey, honey, it’s alright. I know you, I know you’re disappointed. No matter how frightening it might seem you would have loved another baby.”

“I’m not sure I could’ve done it, Em. How could I bear it? Feeling a baby move inside me, smelling its sweet baby soft smells. You know what it’s like to get lost in your child’s life, to mark all the dates on the calendar year after year, doctors’ appointments, play dates, Sunday school, braces, piano lessons, soccer practice, recitals, just everything. Your whole being exists to prepare a perfectly formed person so he can go out and conquer the world, become a more finely wrought human than you could ever hope to be, or just be a good person with a happy, fulfilled life. Even though you saw how it was for me when I knew Brooks was… dead, you don’t really know, Em, you should praise God because you can’t
really know
the feeling when your child dies. No amount of joy can take away that pain, everything I do, even loving John, is just a diversion from that one truth— my son is dead.”

She listened not saying a word, she wiped her face, and nodded her head. “I don’t know, I have my kids and I can’t imagine my life without them. I’ve seen you go to that place where no parent dares to imagine going. But, it doesn’t mean that you have to live the rest of your life in disaster mode. You’ve allowed yourself to love John Foster and if you had been pregnant what are the chances that you would lose….”

I stopped her there, “Right. I lost Brooks and then I lost Henry six months later, who does that happen to?
Who the fuck does that happen to
? I know you want to help me Em, but when you think of your sons you can pick up the phone and call them, when I think of Brooks I hear the word “dead” screaming in my head. I hear Henry asking how I want the funeral home to deal with my son’s body— embalming or cremation. I told Henry not to let them hurt him anymore, no needles, no more pain, he’d been through enough. I just wanted him wrapped in a blanket from my bed so he wouldn’t be cold and maybe he’d know I was near. I wanted them to be gentle with his precious body, couldn’t he just lie in the soft, warm earth? Why should any mother have to make those decisions?  I used to imagine I was floating in the night sky and looking down on the earth, in my mind I would lift the roof of every single house to see if Brooks was inside, because
he had to be somewhere
. The worst thing was to close my eyes and sleep safely in my own bed knowing he was no longer on the planet. I didn’t know how to bury my child, but I do know how to avoid ever doing it again, no more babies for me ever.”