The Liberation of Ravenna Morton

by Suzanne Jenkins

  She’d already peed in a cup, and now the doctor would just look at her cervix and palpate her uterus. Surely, there’d be changes evident that would lead to a diagnosis of pregnancy.

  “Well, let’s see,” she said, pulling her exam gloves on with a pop. “Just relax your legs.”

  Faye thought it a rote narrative that all doctors used. You’re there to be examined, so what are you going to do, pull your knees together? The thought made her chuckle.

  “I’m so excited!” She felt the slippery fingers push into her vagina and then the metal speculum. The doctor turned the light on and peered inside to check out her cervix. Her expression was unreadable, but she stood up, removing the speculum, and reinserted her fingers, pressing on Faye’s flat belly with her free hand.

  “Let’s see what your urine test showed,” she said, not giving away a diagnosis as she pulled her fingers out. “You can sit up.” She lent a hand to help Faye, then turned to the computer on the counter, keying in some data. Faye’s lab results popped up on the screen.

  “Nope, it’s negative.”

  The response Faye had was so unexpected she had no idea where it had come from. A cry popped out of her mouth, followed by uncontrollable sobbing.

  The doctor, trying not to look at her watch, moved over to the side of the table and put a comforting hand on Faye’s shoulder. “What’s this, Faye? If you want a baby, just stop taking the pill.”

  But it wasn’t that easy. It would mean changing the entire dynamic of her life with Dexter. It would mean changing who she was in their life together. She just didn’t think she could go to him and say, “I want a baby.” It would contradict everything they knew about each other.

  Now, with Mike Hetris coming for the weekend, Faye could see that it wasn’t too late, because the dynamic had already been changed and not by her. Watching as they went around to the back of the car to haul painting supplies out, Faye grabbed a jacket and went out to help.

  “Hello, Mike! Welcome to the lake.”

  Dexter tried not to let his shock show. Faye, being personable? Something must be very wrong.

  “Thank you for having me,” Mike answered. “I don’t know why my family is making such a big fuss, but I guess it could be worse.” He turned to look at the view of Lake Michigan with a smirk and a nod, and they laughed.

  “Enjoy it,” Faye said. “Why have a place like this if it’s never enjoyed?”

  Dexter glanced over at her, and she saw a glimmer of a smile on his face. It made her feel good that she’d made him happy.

  ***

  Michael Morton left his father’s studio and decided to stop at the gym before he went home. There were a few cars in the lot; later it would fill up with weekend athletes getting their money’s worth. He rarely made eye contact when he was there, but today, as soon as he walked through the entrance, he saw Lily Baker. Lily was a nurse who worked on the same unit he did. They’d worked closely for years, but knew little personal information about each other. He tried not to moan in disappointment when she saw him and came right over, ready to thwart his quest for anonymity.

  “My day just got better,” she said.

  He didn’t get the reference right away, his head still cloudy from no coffee or dope. “It did?” And then it hit him. She’s paying you a compliment, asshole. Respond. “Well, isn’t that nice?” God, how corny can you get. Then out of nowhere, he started telling Lily about his father, about how old he was and the stress the family was under, and before he knew it, she was leading him out by the arm as he was weeping, trying to console him.

  “Let’s get coffee, okay? I’ll drive and bring you back here for your car later.”

  Michael was mortified. He was out of control, tears streaming down his face. Where the hell was this coming from? He didn’t even like his father that much.

  Lily Baker observed Michael from afar for years. He was like a wound-up rubber band, ready to pop. From what she could gather, seeing his frail old dad today was the final straw. She wanted to be there for Michael, because she wanted him. At work, he’d never do anything so unprofessional as flirt with her. But this morning on the way to the coffee shop, he relaxed.

  “Wow, I bet you regret approaching me at the gym.”

  “Not at all. Look, it can only get better, correct? You’ve now seen me at my worst, with no makeup and ratty spandex.”

  He glanced over to check her out, grateful she was taking the focus off his questionable behavior and putting it on her. “Ah, you look hot,” he said, thinking, She probably thinks there’s something mentally wrong with me. There is something mentally wrong with me.

  But she laughed out loud, elbowing him in the side with enough force that he grunted. “If you think I look hot now, we really should take you to the ER.”

  It appeared that everyone else in town was having coffee in Saugatuck Saturday morning, and she couldn’t find any place to park.

  “You can park at my dad’s,” Michael said, pointing to the bait shop. “He has a space right next to the dock.”

  “I usually don’t go out in public looking like this,” Lily said.

  “Me neither,” Michael replied. “We look like die-hard gym rats.” He held the door open for her above her head, and they went to the counter together. “I’ll get it.”

  She looked up at him, at his handsome face. There was a snail trail of a tear down the left side of his cheek; it could have been watering eyes from the cold. She unconsciously licked her thumb and smudged the mark, intimate and caring. The action went right to his groin.

  “Is this a date?” Lily asked softly.

  “Yes, I hope so,” he answered, grabbing her hand. “I haven’t had one in five years.”

  “What? No way. The talk around the unit is that you’re secretly dating a famous supermodel.”

  He frowned and then smiled. “No, that’s my brother Wally. Wally’s married to Stephanie March.”

  “Oh God, that means I can never go to a family affair with you. I’ll feel like a peasant.”

  “Bull crap,” Michael said. “And I need you to go with me this afternoon.” He explained everything that had been happening, from Ravenna’s cabin to Esme Wynd’s invasion.

  “I used to be able to ignore my mother and the rest of the family, pretend my important job didn’t allow time for visits. Now this thing with my father has reared its head, I feel like I have to grow up and be a man.”

  They didn’t speak for a moment.

  “How long have we known each other?” Lily asked.

  “At work? Since you started there, I guess. Why?”

  “Is that long enough to think about getting serious?”

  “Even though you thought I was involved with my sister-in-law? I think so,” he answered, smiling at her.

  Lily knew she was being ridiculous but had nothing to lose. Michael Morton was ripe for the picking, and she wanted to be first in line when he was ready to eat.

  ***

  Regina Morton had insomnia Friday night, restlessly tossing and turning from two until almost six. She finally got up and made a cup of chamomile tea, but all it did was make her have to pee the minute she finally fell asleep. Then at nine, her phone beeped when she got a long-winded text message from brother Dexter about their old man. Evidently, Mike called for help at sunrise, something he’d never done before in all the years he’d hiked to and from Ravenna’s, and Dexter called Michael to come give him an exam. They decided he was ailing from a combination of stress, cold and impending old age.

  Leaning against her arm while she squinted at the phone screen, she’d recognized this was where her feeling of dread was coming from. Gloria came in with a cup of coffee for her.

  “I heard your phone go off. Is everything all right?”

  “No, it’s not. My father had some kind of breakdown while he was hiking home from my mother’s this morning, and Dexter had to drive over to the Lakeside to pick him up.”

  “I wonder why he didn’t call you,” Glo
ria asked.

  “Hey, let Dexter pull some weight around here. I am sick and tired of the boys doing nothing and all the work falling on April’s and my shoulders.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s not unusual in families for the females to do all the caregiving. So what did Dexter do?”

  “He had Michael evaluate him and then took him home to Lakeshore Drive.”

  “To Faye?” Gloria asked, shocked. “No way!”

  “I’m summoned to the cabin this afternoon, so I guess we’ll find out the whole story then,” Regina replied. “I bet my mother doesn’t even know what happened yet. She’s probably drinking tea with my new niece.” She couldn’t hide the animosity in her voice, and Gloria looked at her with concern.

  “It’s not the girl’s fault,” Gloria said. “Try to remember that fact.”

  “Yeah, well, I wish she would have followed her mother’s lead and hung up on April. Then none of this crap would be happening.”

  Laughing, Gloria patted Regina on the shoulder. “What crap? Nothing’s happened yet, Gina. Relax. You’re getting worked up about nothing.”

  “Just wait. You’ll see. Something’s brewing, and I don’t like it.” She pulled the sheet off her legs and got out of bed. She’d kill for a beer. But beer breakfasts weren’t on the accepted behavior list.

  ***

  April and Ted Freeman were still in bed long after their usual Saturday morning wake-up time. At dawn, she tiptoed to the spare bathroom to shower so he wouldn’t be disturbed, and then crawled back into bed, naked and ready for him.

  “What’s this?” he said. “You’re freezing cold. Come here so I can warm you up.”

  They made slow, delicious love, and then right before she came, her phone beeped.

  “Oh god, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she moaned.

  Ted reached over and grabbed her phone, throwing it in the drawer of her nightstand.

  Later, she sat up in bed, reading the group text message from Dexter while Ted made coffee.

  “Was it important?” he asked, balancing mugs and a plate of toast.

  “Sort of. My dad decided he couldn’t make it home when he got as far as the Lakeside and called Dexter to rescue him.” She gave him the details of the text message.

  “Well, I’m just glad he didn’t call here, or I might not have had that wonderful wake-up surprise,” Ted said.

  “Calling Dexter is so weird. Why not Gina, who’s right across the street? Maybe he was more confused than the message implies. Plus, it looks like he took Dad home with him, and you know what that means,” April said, eyebrows raised, nodding her head.

  “Faye,” Ted said, chuckling. “Poor Dext.”

  “Bull crap,” April said. “Dexter brought that mess on himself.”

  While the siblings talked about the text message with their significant others, Faye was actually enjoying herself. Mike Hetris didn’t know what to make of it, and Dexter was mystified.

  “I’m making breakfast for you two,” she said.

  It was so odd, watching her pouring coffee for his father and setting a mug in front of her husband, smiling, that Dexter wondered if there wasn’t some confusion sickness going around. The entire time she cooked, she’d engaged Mike, and he was talking to her like an old friend.

  Placing heaping plates of eggs and vegetables with slices of toast in front of them, she then did something that Dexter could not believe. She fixed herself a plate and sat down at the table with the men.

  “Well, this is just delicious,” Mike said.

  Dexter slowly nodded his head. “Very good,” he added suspiciously.

  “When we’re done, I want to show Mike his room,” Faye said excitedly. “I’m going to put you in the front bedroom upstairs. The view is breathtaking now that the leaves are gone. Our house sticks out just enough that you can almost see Pier Cove.”

  Dexter chuckled. “That’s pushing it, dear.”

  “Well, you almost can,” Faye said, smiling.

  Dexter kept waiting for her to take her mask off and attack him, pummeling him with her fists or the frying pan in which she’d cooked the eggs. “Where can he paint?” Dexter asked, holding his breath.

  “Right down here in the living room,” Faye said, getting up from her place to gather their dishes. “It has that pearly western light. What do you think, Mike?”

  He was trying not to look astonished. Stories of his middle son’s wife circulated among the family…he was feeling protective of her now, sorry he’d ever had a laugh at her expense. “I can’t ask you to sacrifice that beautiful room for me.”

  “Oh, pshhhh,” she replied. “It’s wasted space now, with that ridiculous, uncomfortable furniture. Besides, if we ever have a family, it’s in the perfect location to be a playroom.”

  Dexter had had enough, coming behind her and squeezing her shoulder with enough force for her to yell out, “Ow!”

  “Okay, Faye, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hissed in her ear while she twisted away from him.

  “Nothing,” she said, her nose in the air. And it was that little movement of snobbery, reminiscent of the old Faye, that disarmed Dexter, and he started to laugh.

  “I think my wife has some plans she forgot to tell me about,” Dexter said to Mike.

  They laughed together, even Faye grinning.

  “Whatever it is, I hope I’m around to see it,” Mike said.

  The couple stopped and looked at him, sadness welling up.

  “We’ll hurry then, Dad,” Dexter said.

  Faye wiped her eye with the dishtowel and threw it down on the counter. “Stop with the depressing talk,” she said. “Mike, come with me. I want to see what you’re painting.”

  They walked into the living room together, Faye grabbing the easel propped against the hallway wall while Mike took his paint box and portfolio.

  Dexter later told the family that if Faye had said she wanted to have a sex-change operation, he couldn’t have been more shocked as he was the day she greeted Mike with open arms.

  ***

  Ozzy Hetris made pancakes for his family every Saturday, a busy day for everyone. The children had their sporting events, birthday parties, or scout meets, and Becky had shopping to do like other working mothers. Breakfast was an enjoyable hour with everyone catching up from the craziness of the week. Oz looked over at Tyler, thinking that before long, it wouldn’t be a priority to spend this time with his family. It was while in this melancholy state that the text message from Dexter would arrive. Just having poured Becky’s coffee, he was walking back to the counter with the pot when his phone went off. He read the screen and then read it again.

  “Oh no,” he said dramatically, the children and his wife taking notice. “Oh no, oh no.” He looked up to see if he’d gotten their attention. “My father took ill on the street. He was walking home from the cabin at the crack of dawn like he does, and couldn’t get farther than the Lakeside.”

  “Dad, that’s six miles from Nicky’s house,” twelve-year-old Tyler said, frowning. “I’m not sure I could make it that far in the cold.”

  “Well, I know I couldn’t,” Becky said. “Who’s the message from?”

  “Dexter. He took Mike to his house.”

  Becky and Amy looked at each other and started to laugh.

  “No way,” Becky said.

  “Uncle Dexter has the wife with the pinched-up face, right?” eight-year-old Alex said.

  “Alex, show some respect,” Ozzy said.

  “You’re the one who said it, Dad,” Alex said.

  Becky smirked with a crooked smile. “Little ears,” she whispered. “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing,” Ozzy replied. “It sounds like they have it under control. The only problem is now they want everyone to come to the cabin after lunch. We have too much to do today.”

  “Sounds important, Dad,” Tyler said. “We should go just for Nicky.”

  Ozzy reached over and hugged his son with one arm.
<
br />   “You’re right. We’ll go. Becky, you up to it?”

  “If I leave to shop right now, I can be back by lunch.” The family talked about how they’d arrange their schedules to accommodate the old people, agreeing that was the way it should be in a family.

  ***

  Supermodel Stephanie March was in sweatpants with her hair up in a bun, kneading bread. She was following a recipe she’d gotten from her mother-in-law that morning. Before the Mike debacle, she’d pulled on her boots and winter coat and ran the quarter mile down Riverside Road to the cabin.

  “Hoot!” she called.

  Ravenna opened the back door, and Stephanie saw a stranger sitting at the table. This must be the famous sister Maria’s kid who’d upset Walter so much he couldn’t talk about it. Taken aback, Stephanie was shocked. She’d expected to see a temptress who’d arrived from the big city with one goal in mind, to pillage the family fortune, but instead, here was a lovely young woman who could be April’s twin.

  “Stephanie,” Ravenna pronounced it Steponie, “this is Esme, Walter’s niece.”

  Stephanie stretched her arm across the table to grasp hands with Esme. “Hi, so nice to meet you,” she said, smiling. “Sorry to interrupt. Nimaamaa, can I have your bread recipe?” she said this in Ojibwe.

  “Which one? Winter wheat?”

  “No, wild rice. And I need the rice, too,” she said.

  Ravenna laughed, going to her desk for a pencil and paper. She spoke the directions out loud in English as she wrote them down.

  Stephanie made a cup of tea. “This must be culture shock for you.”

  Esme smiled, remembering Stephanie was born and bred in Chicago and still worked there. “I forgot about the city quickly. It’s so nice here.”

  “Yes, I’m counting the days until I can retire and stay here all the time. I’m getting sheep,” she said.

  Esme looked shocked. “Why?” They laughed together.

  “For the wool, of course. I already have the spinning wheel.”