The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7 (25 page)

“It’s not easy to do.” Dean listened to Joe dial.

“Robbie,” Joe spoke loudly through the noise of the reception, “how’s it going.”

“It’s going? Is Dean there yet?” Robbie asked.

“Right here.” Joe handed him the phone.

“Robbie?” Dean called his name. “Listen, it’s not important that you get the sample if they are convulsing too much. Don’t try it.”

“But you said you needed a sample of the blood when they come out of remission,” Robbie said.

“True but you’re working hard enough. Just let it go,” Dean told him.

“Dean, I have all the stuff right here. Just tell me.”

“O.K. how bad is he shaking?”

Robbie looked down at Greg whose body trembled so badly it could have moved from his sleeping bag. “Bad.”

“Robbie, after you’ve placed on the tourniquet, I need you to secure his arm between your arm and body. Got that? Arm extended but make sure all of your supplies are handy.”

Robbie positioned himself to do that. He placed on the tourniquet and followed Dean’s instructions. “Got it.”

“Do you have the tube partially in the hub? The hub is the plastic thing with the needle sticking from it.”

“It’s ready.”

“Do you see the vein?”

“Yes.”

“Brace the vein between your forefinger and thumb with your one hand then insert the hub into the vein with the other, slowly, but not too slow.”

Robbie grunted some as he struggled with Greg. “He’s really moving, Dean.”

“Then don’t do it. Because you don’t want to stick your . . .”

“Ow.” Robbie exclaimed.

“Robbie?” Such panic filled Dean’s voice. “Drop what you’re doing and clean that out. Right now. Do you hear me?”

“I’m joking, Dean. I’m joking. I got the blood. The tube is filling.”

Dean let out a breath and looked at Joe who looked just as frazzled. “God, Robbie, don’t do that to us. We thought you stuck yourself with a contaminated needle.”

“I’m fine and I have the blood. Just tell Frank or whoever it’ll be ready tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Robbie. Good job.”

“Thanks,” Robbie said. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later. Tell my Dad I’ll be in touch.”

“I will.” Closing his eyes briefly, Dean disconnected the call. “He had to go. By the background noise, things don’t sound good.”

“It didn’t sound good for a second when it sounded like he stuck himself. That would have been bad, Dean. Right?”

“Right Joe.” Dean shook his head. “Good thing your son has a sick sense of humor. He’s been lucky so far, but a stick with a dirty needle is a sure fire way to get it. He was lucky.” Dean handed Joe back the phone then leaned in the chair, letting his racing heart calm down and telling himself Robbie was only joking.

Robbie covered Greg fully then stood up, still holding that tube of blood in his hand. He walked it to the case that Beginnings would pick up the next day. After setting it inside, Robbie took a second to sit down. He plopped hard on the grass and ran his hand over his face. He had a hard time catching his breath and his heart beat strongly within his chest. It beat even stronger when he brought his hand up to the focus of his eyes and viewed the bead of blood that formed on the inside portion of his thumb. Blood from the very spot that the needle he had just used on Greg had slipped from his control and jabbed deep into his skin.

Ellen cringed one more time at the noise factor in Frank’s house then smiled and moved to the door. “Frank, you sure you’ll be all right with all of these guys and the baby until Dean picks them up?”

“El, please.” Frank scoffed at her while he held Nick. “Henry’s here.”

“Speaking of which, where is . . .” She smiled when Henry came from the kitchen. “What were you doing?”

“You forgot your rice cakes, El.” Henry handed her the plate. “You can’t show up empty handed if all the other women are bringing something. That will just give them something that they can gossip about you.”

“Do you think they talk about me, Henry?” Ellen took the rice cakes. “You don’t think they’ll be mean to me, do you?”

“Anything is possible, El. But you know the age old saying…kill them with kindness.”

Frank shook his head. “Fuck that. Just kill Jenny Matoose with kindness. Don’t worry about the rest of them. Why are you wearing lipstick?” Frank extended his hand to her mouth. “Maybe if you just rubbed a little . . .”

“Frank.” Ellen smacked his hand away. “I want to look good. Leave my makeup alone. Do I look all
right, Henry?”

“Beautiful, El.” Henry kissed her on the cheek.

“Thanks, Henry. I should be going.”

Henry opened the door for her. “I’ll wait up for you, El.”

“Thanks Henry. If this gets too much for you, why don’t you go work on that program Robbie sent? You haven’t done that too much today.”

“Oh No!” Frank said loudly. “Henry stays right here. He has to learn, El. He was real good when Nick was in the clinic, but now’s the reality check. He stays put at least until Nick is asleep for the night. I’ll wait up for you too.” He kissed her on her cheek then hurried and wiped some of her lipstick off. “Better.”

“Frank!!” Ellen yelled. “See what you did? I look pale now.”

“You look better. Go.”

“I’m going.” Ellen breathed in a nervous breath and stepped through the door “Wish me luck with the wolves.” Holding her rice cakes with confidence, she trotted off to Jenny’s house.

Frank closed the door and walked to Henry, nearly tripping over Alex who flew by him. He laughed when he saw Henry panic. “We’re fine, Henry. In fact,” Frank moved closer, “Hold Nick for a while. I have to do dishes.”

“No, that’s O.K. Frank.” Henry stuck his hands in his pockets. “You can hold him.”

“Henry, hold the baby.”

“Maybe if I sit down.”

“You don’t need to sit down. He’s not that heavy.” Frank held Nick to him. “Hold him.”

“I’d rather not. I might drop him or break him.”

“Break him.” Frank laughed in ridicule. “You aren’t going to break him, Henry. What is it? Don’t you like him?”

“Oh I love him.” Henry backed away. “But he scares me. He scares me even more out of the clinic. In that contained space he looked much larger. I’ll wait until he’s bigger. But you hold him, Frank.” Henry sat on the couch. “He likes you.”

“He likes me because I’m the only one who holds him. God, Henry, when you and Ellen have this kid, he’s gonna feel abandoned.”

“That isn’t a very nice thing to say, Frank. I’ll take care of him. I’ll learn, but I’ll wait right now. Why isn’t he lying down anyhow? He’s sleeping.”

“Babies always sleep, Henry. I’ll lay him down.” Frank moved to the bassinet. “But when he wakes up, you’re on preemie detail.” Gently laying the baby down, Frank covered him, ignored Henry’s whistling, and went to the kitchen to finish cleaning up.

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The laughter, the chattering, the clanking of glasses stopped to a dead silence the moment Ellen stepped inside Jenny’s living room.

Jenny closed her door. “Your presence is known.” She took the plate from Ellen. “Rice cakes?”

“It’s all I can make.” Ellen stared at the faces that stared back. Sixteen other women huddled in folding chairs, on the floor, and on the furniture in Jenny’s living room. She wiggled her fingers in a wave at them. “Kind of reminds me of the old Tupperware parties. Are you our hostess, Jenny?”

“Are we gonna have to ask you to leave?”

“No, I’ll be good.”

“Go have a seat. We’re ready to start.”

“Just one thing.” Ellen held up her hand. “How long are we usually in these meetings?”

“Ready to go already?”

“No,” Ellen snapped sarcastically, “I want to know how long I get out of my house?”

“It depends. Usually three hours. Maybe.”

“Great. I’ll have a seat.” She walked further into the living room, stepped over Melissa, who sat on the floor, and hit her in the head with her leg as she did. “Sorry.” Ellen moved to the couch. “May I?” She looked down at Trish who sat on the couch and Susan who sat next to her. “Can I squeeze in here?” Ellen waited for Susan to move some. She sat down, knowing she had the good seat because the coffee table was filled with the finger foods everyone brought. She leaned to Trish who sat perkily and ready for things to start. “Trish,” Ellen whispered, “am I allowed to eat?”

“Oh sure. Help yourself.”

“Thanks.”

Jenny took her position before the women in the living room. “If everyone’s ready, we’ll get started.” She noticed that Cindy, a thin woman with extremely short hair raised her hand. “Yes Cindy?”

“Should we be watching what we say tonight?” She pointed to Ellen.

Ellen looked up as she stuck the piece of celery in her mouth. “What?”

Jenny shook her head. “No, we’re not walking on eggshells. Ellen wants to join our group. After all, she is in the same boat as all of us. The only difference is, she isn’t as advanced in handling the situations as we are. Perhaps we can help her. Right, Ellen?”

Ellen chewed. “Right. I want to learn. My God, who made this dip? This is excellent.” She grabbed another piece of celery and dipped it thoroughly.

Jenny continued on. “We’ll get the women’s progress portion done first. Yes Ellen?”

Ellen swallowed her food. “Just curious, Jenny. You guys aren’t starting the next women’s lib movement are you?”

“No,” Jenny said.

“Good, because I like not having to do as much as the men.”

“We all do, Ellen. We all like being treated special. We are because they aren’t that many of us left in this world. The men need us. We know it and they know it too. The whole purpose of these meetings is to hash out problems we have dealing with being a necessity at times more than an asset,” Jenny explained. “Problems, everyday mind you, that we all have juggling more than one man ad spreading ourselves around because it’s the right thing to do. Smiling about it can wear thin. This is our outlet. This is where we try to make it tolerable when it’s not. Understand?”

“Completely.” Ellen held up her hand. “Go on.”

“Continuing.” Jenny looked at a sheet of paper. “I thought after women’s progress portion and after we discuss what needs to be brought to attention to the community, we could do something a little different. Instead of our typical problem and solution time, we could incorporate that into the open forum discussion before our activity, but let’s focus on Ellen today. Let’s allow her to ask us questions and show her how we work. In agreement?” She waited for a nod from everyone. “Ellen? Is that all right with you?”

“Oh sure, I need all the help I can get. What’s this red dip?” Ellen looked closely at the bowl. “It looks good. Is it made with ketchup? Trish, I bet you made this.” Ellen reached to try it.

Jenny moved on with the meeting. “Progress time. I wanted to let you know I spoke with Joe and he’s giving consideration to our request to make the first menstrual day for all of us a work free day.” Jenny stopped when she heard Ellen choke. “Problem,, Ellen?”

“No.” Ellen shook her head. “Joe’s actually considering that?”

“Yes as a special favor to the women who do special favors for the men. We deserve it.”

“Sure we do,” Ellen shrugged. “It’s just funny. You know, of course he was being sarcastic, but that was also a Frank . . .” She heard a soft rumble of moans. “. . . idea.” Her eyes shifted around. “Sorry.”

“Getting back. If Joe agrees, I know some of you said you’d rather have it be your second day. I’m sure he’ll be fine with that. We’ll have to register your menstrual cycles with Andrea for verification. Ladies, I’m going to discuss with Joe that even though it’s our day off, we don’t have to deal with any children if we have them. We still get nursery privileges.”

Ellen laughed loudly grabbing everyone’s attention. “Don’t get me wrong. I like this idea I do. I just can’t visualize my father sitting seriously with you and discussing menstrual cycles. You know one time I tried to talk to him and Frank . . .” She looked oddly at another humming of moans. “. . . about it and they shut me up. Like now. Sorry. I’ll eat my dip.”

Jenny continued to read down her notes. “Here’s what I have to bring to Joe’s attention during this upcoming week. I want to discuss when Beginnings makes shoes they need think of us more and give us at least one more style to choose from. Flats perhaps? Instead of those dime store sneaker things we are made.” She received a room full of applause. “I spoke to Ben from fabrics. He has designed a new pair of slacks for us, something that will flatter us fuller figure gals. He said he can make them right away and in a nice shade of blue as soon as Joe O.K.’s it. I’ll move Joe along on that.”

Ellen listened to Jenny ramble on about clothing items, ladies day at the social hall, and such. The whole time while she listened, Ellen couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of Jenny discussing such trivial things with Joe. She knew Joe would hear about it from her the second she saw him.

“And finally before we move on to open forum and questions, I have picked the two who will bless our monthly dart game that will be tonight’s creative activity. I have to tell you, all of you gave good reasons, but the two men who will be the targets tonight will be…” Jenny walked to the dining room table and help up two large sheets of paper, “Cole from the fields.” She showed a sketch of Cole with a target on his face. “And Richard ‘the Dick’ Hartford from plastics.” She held up another sketch with a target on it. “Let’s remember to thank Forrest for our dart boards. He did a great job as always.”

This whole thing grabbed Ellen’s attention. “We throw darts at pictures of the men?”

“Yes, once a month. The men we throw darts at are chosen from entries I was given. You write down a reason and I chose the best two.”

“I like this,” Ellen smiled. “So let’s say next month I want us to throw darts at Frank . . .” A rumble of moans. “ . . . all I would have to do is write down why?”

“Yes,” Jenny stated, “easy enough. Now, before we begin open forum, Meredith, how was the helpful tips we gave you on dumping the extension partner you picked up?”

Meredith, a tall, big and brawny woman, held her hand up with a smile. “Wonderful. I followed the advice you gave. I was direct with him. I told him I was with him only to help him through that lonely period and he understood. He and Kevin are speaking again.”

“Good,” Jenny nodded. “Anyone else have anything they may need answers to that we can help? Yes, Ellen?”

Ellen raised her hand. “You said you’d let me ask questions. I have one now if I can ask.”

“Sure.” Jenny folded her arms.

“What is up with old men in this community? Why are the seven old guys all snatched up? And snatched up not as extension partners as you call them. They’re secondary relationships.”

Jenny lifted her shoulders. “Ellen, they’re taken right away. Maybe if you want an older gentleman you might want to let Joe know for the next survivor run. We told him to keep his eye out for some.”

“What?” Ellen was shocked. “No, I don’t want an older gentleman. I want to know why you women do.” There was a silence in the room. “Am I missing something?”

Melissa nodded slowly with a smile and closed eyes. “Obviously you are if you have to ask.”

Ellen giggled. “This is a joke right? You just feel sorry for them?”

Melissa shook her head. “No Ellen, not at all. Those of us who are fortunate enough to have secured an older gentleman do not feel sorry for them. We enjoy them.”

“Enjoy them?” Ellen looked around. “You mean like stimulating conversation?”

“Stimulating yes,” Melissa said. “Conversation, maybe.”

Ellen’s mouth dripped open. “Oh my God. You’re joking. You actually have sex with them?”

Melissa looked oddly at her. “Of course we do. That’s the only sex I find totally enjoyable and fulfilling.” She saw more shock coming from Ellen. “They are gentle partners. Something happened to the young men in this world. They became rough, but not the older men. They are gentle and caressing.”

Ellen could feel her top lip start to curl. “But . . . but . . . their bodies. Doesn’t that take away from it?”

Trish decided to answer that one. “Ellen.” She laid her hand on Ellen’s leg. “We all look the same when the lights go out.”

“No we do not!” Ellen exclaimed. “We definitely do not. You could put me in a black room with a naked Dean, Frank . . .” She slowed at the moans that erupted. “. . .I’d know their bodies to touch them. Touch them mind you. Those two do not feel the same. I’m a rear-end gal myself and let me tell you, I’ll bet my life that Hap's butt in the dark feels nothing like Frank’s . . .” The moans happened again. “Wait a second!” Ellen held up her hand. “Why do you women moan every single time I mention Frank’s . . .” Moans again, “name?”