Robin Cook (3 page)

Adam turned west on Twelfth Street, heading directly into the wind and rain. It was pitch dark already, despite the fact that it was just seven-thirty. Only a half block to go. He had an umbrella, but it was in sad shape and he had to wrestle with it to keep the wind from inverting it. He was cold and damp, but worse, he was exhausted, mentally and physically. The all-important presentation had not gone well. Dr. Norton had stopped him not once but twice for grammatical errors, interrupting Adam's train of thought. Consequently, Adam had left out an important part of the case history. At the end Dr. Norton had merely nodded and asked the chief resident about another patient.

Then, to round out the day, Adam had been called down to the emergency room because it was understaffed and had been given the job of pumping out the stomach of a young attempted suicide. Inexperienced in such a procedure, Adam had made the girl vomit, and he'd caught it smack in the chest. And if that weren't bad enough, fifteen
minutes before he was to be off duty, he got a complicated admission: a fifty-two-year-old man with pancreatitis. That was the reason he was so late coming home.

Passing the alley that communicated with the scenic airshaft outside their apartment, Adam saw the assortment of trash cans that the sanitation department noisily emptied three mornings a week. Today the cans were full to overflowing, and a couple of scrawny alley cats had braved the rain to investigate.

Adam backed through the front door to their building and closed the worthless umbrella. For a moment he stood in the ancient foyer and dripped onto the tiled floor. Then he unlocked the inner door and began mounting the three flights of stairs to their apartment.

To announce his arrival he pressed the doorbell as he pushed the key into the first of several locks. They'd been broken into twice during the year and a half they'd lived there. Nothing had been stolen, though. The thieves probably realized they'd made a mistake as soon as they saw the beat-up furniture.

“Jen!” called Adam as he opened the door.

“I'm in the kitchen. I'll be out in a second.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. Since his hospital hours were so irregular, Jennifer usually waited until he was home to start dinner. Sniffing the savory aroma, he went into the bedroom and took off his jacket. When he walked back to the living room, Jennifer was waiting. Adam gasped. At first it appeared that she was only wearing an eyelet apron. Naked legs stretched from the bottom edge of the apron to high-heeled mules. Her hair was brushed straight but held back from her face with
combs. Her oval face seemed to be illuminated from within.

Lifting her arms and positioning her fingers as if dancing a classical ballet, Jennifer slowly revolved. As she turned, Adam saw that under the apron she was wearing a lavender teddy edged in lace.

Adam smiled. Eagerly he reached out to lift the front edge of the apron.

“Oh, no!” teased Jennifer, avoiding his grasp. “Not so fast.”

“What's going on?” laughed Adam.

“I'm practicing to be the Total Woman,” quipped Jennifer.

“Where in heaven's name did you get that . . . thing?”

“This thing is called a teddy.” Jennifer lifted the front of the apron and pirouetted again. “I bought it at Bonwit's this afternoon.”

“What on earth for?” asked Adam, wondering how much it cost in spite of himself. He didn't want to deny Jennifer something she wanted, but they had to be careful on their budget.

Jennifer stopped dancing. “I bought it because I always want to be attractive and sexy for you.”

“If you were any more attractive and sexy for me I'd never get through medical school. You don't have to dress up in frilly stuff to turn me on. You're plenty sexy the way you are.”

“You don't like it.” Jennifer's face clouded over.

“I like it,” Adam stammered. “It's just that you don't need it.”

“Do you really like it?” asked Jennifer.

Adam knew he was on thin ice. “I love it. You look like you belong in
Playboy.
No,
Penthouse.
”

Jennifer's face brightened. “Perfect! I wanted it to be right on the border between sexy and raunchy.
Now, I want you to march right back into the bathroom and take a shower. When you come out, we'll have a dinner that I hope will make you feel like a king. Go!”

Jennifer forcibly propelled Adam back into the bedroom. Before he could say anything, she shut the door in his face.

When he was finished showering, he discovered that the living room had been transformed. The card table had been brought from the kitchen and laid for dinner. Two empty wine bottles with candles stuck in them provided the only light. The silverware sparkled. They only had two place settings. Each had been a present from Jennifer's parents, one on their wedding day, the other on their first anniversary. They rarely used them, leaving the pieces wrapped in tinfoil and hidden in the freezer compartment.

Adam walked over to the kitchen and leaned against the door. Jennifer was working feverishly, in spite of the handicap afforded by her high-heeled slippers. Adam had to smile. This woman tottering around his kitchen did not look like the Jennifer he knew. If she noticed him, she gave no indication.

Adam cleared his throat. “Jennifer, I'd like to know what's going on.”

Jennifer didn't respond. Instead she uncovered a pot and stirred the contents. Adam could see from the spoon when she placed it on the counter that it was wild rice. Adam wondered how much that cost. Then he spotted the roast duck cooling on the carving board.

“Jennifer!” called Adam a bit more forcibly.

Jennifer turned around and thrust a wine bottle and corkscrew into Adam's arms. He was forced to grab both lest they fall to the floor. “I'm making
dinner,” she said simply. “If you want to make yourself useful, open the wine.”

Stunned, Adam carried the bottle into the living room and pulled out the cork. He poured a little wine into a glass, and held it up to the candlelight. It was a deep, rich ruby color. Before he could taste it, Jennifer called him into the kitchen.

“I need a surgeon in here,” she said, handing him a large knife.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.

“Cut the duck in half.”

Adam tried a few tentative thrusts with little success. Finally, he put all his strength behind the blow and sliced the duck in two.

“Now how about telling me what this is all about.”

“I just want you to relax and enjoy a good dinner.”

“Is there an ulterior motive for all this?”

“Well, I do have something to tell you, but I'm not going to do so until after we have this feast.”

And feast it was. Although the snow peas were slightly overdone and the wild rice slightly underdone, the duck was sensational and so was the wine. As the meal progressed, Adam found himself growing sleepy. Jerking himself awake, he fastened his attention on his wife. Jennifer looked extraordinarily beautiful in the candlelight. She'd removed the eyelet apron and was now clothed only in the provocatively sheer lavender teddy. Her image blurred in Adam's mind, and for a brief moment he fell asleep sitting at the card table.

“Are you all right?” asked Jennifer, who was just beginning to describe the home pregnancy test.

“I'm fine,” said Adam, unwilling to admit he'd been asleep.

“So,” continued Jennifer, “I followed the directions. And guess what?”

“What?”

“It was positive.”

“What was positive?” Adam knew that he must have missed some key phrase.

“Adam, haven't you been listening to me?”

“Of course I've been listening. I guess my mind wandered for a moment. I'm sorry. Maybe you'd better start again.”

“Adam, I'm trying to tell you that I am pregnant. Yesterday I did one of those home pregnancy tests and this morning I went to Dr. Vandermer.”

For a minute Adam was too shocked to speak.

“You're kidding,” he said at last.

“I'm not kidding,” said Jennifer, meeting his eyes. She could feel her heart beating out a rapid rhythm. Involuntarily she'd clenched her hands into fists.

“You're not kidding?” said Adam, uncertain whether he was about to laugh or cry. “You're serious?”

“I'm serious. Believe me, I'm serious.” Jennifer's voice shook. She'd hoped that Adam would be happy, at least at first. Later they could deal with the host of problems the pregnancy would bring. Jennifer got up, walked around to Adam, and put her hands on his shoulders.

“Honey, I love you very much.”

“I love you, too, Jennifer,” said Adam. “But that is not the issue.” He stood up, shrugging off her hands.

“I think it is the issue,” said Jennifer, watching him move away. More than anything she wanted
to be held and reassured that everything was going to be all right.

“What about your IUD?” asked Adam.

“It didn't work. I guess we should think of this baby as some sort of miracle.” Jennifer forced herself to smile.

Adam began to pace the small room. A baby! How could they have a baby? They were just barely keeping their heads above water as it was. They were already close to twenty thousand dollars in debt.

Jennifer watched Adam silently. From the moment she'd left Dr. Vandermer's office she had feared Adam's reaction. That was why she had dreamed up the idea of the celebration dinner. But now that the meal was over she was left with the reality that she was pregnant and her husband was not very pleased.

“You always wanted to have children,” she said plaintively.

Stopping in the middle of the threadbare carpet, Adam looked at his wife. “Whether I want to have children is also not the issue. Of course I want children, but not now. I mean, how are we going to live? You'll have to stop dancing immediately, right?”

“Soon,” admitted Jennifer.

“Well, there you have it! What are we going to do for money? It's not as if I can get a newspaper route after school. Oh God, what a mess. I don't believe it.”

“There's always my family,” said Jennifer, fighting back tears.

Adam looked up. His lips had narrowed.

Jennifer saw his expression and quickly added, “I know how you have felt about accepting
support from my family, but if we have a child it will be different. I know they would adore helping us.”

“Oh, sure!” said Adam sarcastically.

“Really,” said Jennifer. “I went home this afternoon and spoke to them. My father said that we are welcome to come and live in their house in Englewood. Goodness knows, it's big enough. Then as soon as I can get back to dancing or you start your residency, we can move out.”

Adam closed his eyes and hit the top of his head with a closed fist. “I don't believe this is happening.”

“My mother will enjoy having us,” added Jennifer. “Because of the baby she lost, she's particularly concerned about me.”

“There's no connection,” snapped Adam. “She had a Down's baby because she was well into her thirties.”

“She knows. It's just the way she feels. Oh, Adam! It wouldn't be so bad. We'll have plenty of space, and you could use the attic room as a study.”

“No!” shouted Adam. “Thank you very much but we are not accepting charity from your parents. They already interfere in our life too much. Everything in this goddam dump is from your parents,” he said, gesturing around the room.

In the midst of her anxiety Jennifer felt anger stirring. At times Adam could be so frustratingly obstinate, and certainly less than grateful. Right from the beginning of their relationship his rejection of her parents' generosity had been out of proportion. She'd gone along with it to a point, recognizing his special sensitivities, but now that she was pregnant it seemed unreasonably self-centered.

“My parents have not been interfering. I think it
is time for you to control your pride or whatever it is that gets you so angry anytime my parents try to help us. The fact of the matter is we need help.”

“You can call it what you will. I call it interfering. And I don't want it, today, tomorrow, ever! We're on our own and we'll handle this by ourselves.”

“OK,” said Jennifer. “If you can't accept help from my family, then ask your father for help. It's about time he did something.”

Adam stopped pacing and stared at Jennifer. “I'll get a job,” he said softly.

“How can you get a job?” asked Jennifer. “Every second you're awake you're either studying or at the hospital.”

“I'll take a leave from school,” said Adam.

Jennifer's mouth dropped open. “You can't leave school. I'll get another job.”

“Sure,” said Adam. “What kind ofjob? Cocktail waitress? Be serious, Jennifer. I don't want you working while you're pregnant.”