The Baby Shower

by Tasha Blue et al.

  She felt like she had been sitting on this cold plastic exam bed forever, the paper sheet crinkling annoyingly with her every move. Funny how doctors’ offices always stressed that you arrive right on time just so that they could make you wait to be seen. Gracie had never been a big fan of doctors, and the string of impersonal, strictly clinical doctors she had seen at Genesis hadn’t helped sway her opinion. Along with that same hospital nervousness, she felt the butterflies in her stomach that had been with her on the plane to Montana. Her head was in turmoil. It had been fifteen days since she and Derrick had copulated (to put it in scientific terms) and she hadn’t had her period yet. So things were looking good. If she was, indeed, pregnant that would mean that the Main Operative, as Becca had put it, had been accomplished and she had proven to be the good little breeder animal that was expected. All she had to do was carry the baby to term, happy and healthy, and the million dollars would be hers. It wouldn’t even take a year of her life. But on the other hand if she wasn’t pregnant, that would mean she would see Derrick again…

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft tap-tap on the door followed by Dr. Harris’s entrance- today’s doctor on the docket. Gracie’s heart was in her throat at the doctor shut the door behind her and took a seat in the chair to Gracie’s left.

  Without glancing up from her clipboard, as if it held all the answers to the universe’s toughest questions, she said, “Well, Gracie according to the urine test it looks like you are not pregnant. It will be a few days until we get the blood test back but I can tell you right now that these results are pretty conclusive.” She glanced up from her notes and must have seen the crestfallen look on Gracie’s face. “I’m sorry, have you and your husband been trying long?”

  Husband. That was a joke. Gracie felt a sudden disdain for this woman and all the other doctors here who had treated her like a lab rat for the past so many months, scrutinizing her reproductive health and her sexual history, but never even bothering to notice if she wore a wedding band. She simply said, “No.”

  “Well, the good news is you’re still fairly young and you have lots of time to keep trying. You know what they say, back to the drawing board.” Dr. Harris gave a tight-lipped attempt at a smile. Gracie didn’t know who they were, but they were right. How had she let herself hope that it would all work out perfectly after one try (or three)?

  “I’m guessing that your missed period is just a result of stress. You should start any time in the next few days. However, if you’d like I can prescribe you something to prompt your menstruation.”

  “No, thank you,” said Gracie. Her periods had always been like clockwork; she didn’t want any pills messing with the plumbing now. The doctor was right, she had had a lot on her mind the past few weeks, it was probably just the stress getting to her.

  Gracie thanked the doctor and left the hospital feeling both empty and strangely optimistic. If at first you don’t succeed, was probably Dr. Harris’ other stock motivational phrase. And try, try again was what she would have to do. She couldn’t say that the prospect upset her.

  That night Gracie dreamed that she was in a stark white laboratory. The rows of fluorescent lights sent blinding reflections off the chrome counter tops and an array of stainless steel tools that she couldn’t recognize. Gracie had spent lots of time in labs, only she was usually the one wearing the white coat. In this dream she was in a big metal cage and she was completely naked. She tried the door and shook the cage walls but there was no way out. Three giant doctors entered and crowded around her, speaking to one another in some language she couldn’t comprehend and taking down notes on their massive clipboards. They pointed at her and made gestures, but no matter what she did they didn’t respond to her pleas for help.

  Suddenly a set of giant hands came down and placed someone else in the cage with her. It was Derrick, and he was also naked. Relieved, she tried to speak to him, but he didn’t seem to be listening. Instead he slowly inspected the four corners of the cage before approaching her. She tried to hold out her arms to him, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around. Pressing her against the side of the cage he inserted himself inside her began to pump against her. She was surprised to find that she was wet and ready for him and moved along with his thrusts. All the while the giant doctors commented and took down extensive notes. On the verge of climax, Gracie glanced down to see a horrible sight. Visible in the chrome tabletop, as clear as a reflection in a mirror, was an image of her and Derrick. Only instead of humans she saw two fat, hairy rats, one black and one white.

  Gracie woke with a gasp. Her body was quivering and she could feel moisture between her legs. What had that been all about? She knew that dreams meant things, that they were the brain’s way of communicating unconscious fears, needs, and desires. She’d had sex dreams before, but never anything like this. Today’s trip to the doctor must have had a bigger effect on her than she had thought. Gracie got up and went to the bathroom to splash water on her face. She realized then that she had started her period. There was her definite proof that there was no baby. And that meant that she would be seeing Derrick again, to play the role of lab rat and conceive his child. But after a dream like that, what was her brain trying to tell her? Could she still go through with it?

  Chapter Six

  Not her. Not her. Still not her. Damn.

  Derrick could hardly contain his impatience. He felt like a teenager, anxiously waiting for his prom date to walk down the stairs in her taffeta glory. Dozens of women in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors came down the concourse from the arrival gate. Some of them were undeniably attractive and a past Derrick would have entertained the idea of walking up to one of them, introducing himself as A-list actor Derrick Stone, and taking her home. But that was a distant past Derrick; he liked to think he had grown out of that stage sometime in his twenties. Today he only had his mind on one woman, and not just because she was a guaranteed sure thing. He couldn’t deny the fact that he had missed Gracie.

  Over the past month he had thought of her often, in spite of himself. Even when he had escorted pop princess Gilesa to the People Magazine Awards he had been thinking of Gracie. For all her pageantry and blatant sexuality, Gilesa had turned out to be a self-absorbed, whiny bore. He had wondered how Gracie would look in that barely-there sequined gown and concluded that her natural curves would have filled it out better than his stick person of a date. The thought of Gracie in Gilesa’s Versace had slightly turned him on, but when the pop star, nearly fifteen years his junior, drunkenly threw herself at him at the end of the night he respectfully declined. A past Derrick would have never done that. There was obviously something wrong with him.

  Finally he saw her pass the security gate and head toward where he stood at the baggage claim. His heart leapt in his chest at the sight of her. Down boy, he though. She looked terrific in a blue and white striped sundress and denim jacket. It was no Versace, but Derrick thought it was the most perfect dress he had ever seen. She stopped and looked around, probably searching for George Jones or someone holding up a card reading Gracie Johnston. He knew she wasn’t expecting him. He had told his driver to take the day off, claiming that he had to go downtown anyway and was perfectly capable of handling the pickup himself. This was highly unprofessional and Al Maxwell would probably throw a fit if he found out, not to mention his agent Gary Carlisle. Carlisle believed in keeping his highest-profile clients cloistered like nuns, no fraternizing with the public. He hated when Derrick tried to do things for himself and insisted that that was what employees were for.

  But today Derrick was in disguise, or so he thought. He wore his favorite faded jeans and a open-collared shirt, along with a battered leather cowboy hat pulled low to hide his face. He looked like any other Miami guy, maybe even a tourist. He had found that in public places people were less inclined to approach celebrities. It was the whole hiding in plain sight thing. No one expected to see a movie star hanging out in Miami International Airport alone on a
Thursday afternoon, so nobody did. They might comment to their companion, “Hey that guy looks kind of like Derrick Stone.” And the companion might say, “Yeah but the nose is all wrong.” So far it was working for Gracie, she continued to scour the crowd but her eyes never landed on him.

  He stood for a moment and enjoyed the sight of her before approaching. “Excuse me darlin’,” he said in his best Southern drawl, “but don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  Before turning to face him Gracie began, “No, I’m sorry I don’t think…” Her eyes widened with recognition and her face lit with a wide smile. “Derrick! I didn’t expect you to be here. Where’s George?”

  “I gave him the rest of the day off,” Derrick said. “You’re not disappointed I hope?”

  “No, no of course not. I just didn’t think they let you mingle with the peons like this.”

  Derrick laughed. “I do a lot of things they don’t approve of. If, that is, they refers to the people I, for some reason, pay to manage my life.” He wanted to hug her, but didn’t know if it would be appropriate. After all, they were still practically strangers, only meeting for the second time. The only reason for this second rendezvous was that their efforts had been unsuccessful the first time. Nothing more, nothing less. Instead they stood in awkward silence for a moment, taking each other in, until Gracie stuck out her hand.

  “Good to see you again,” she said.

  “Likewise. Anyway, I had to come downtown to do some errands, so I figured I could scoop you on the way. Plus I’m famished and there’s this great little cantina in Little Havana. I’ve been craving their boliche since last time I was in town.” Which was true but really he had just wanted to spend that little bit of extra time with her. He wanted to see her out in public, not just have her driven up to his estate like some kind of concubine. He wanted to hang out with her like normal people would. And for some reason he knew that the boliche would taste even better when he shared it with her.

  “Boliche, huh?” Gracie said as if she could see through Derrick’s lame excuse. She played along. “Cuban food’s not really my specialty, I’m more of a soul food kind of girl, but I’ll try anything once.”

  They gathered Gracie’s luggage, more than just a carry-on duffel this time, loaded into his Jeep, and headed down the Dolphin Expressway. Derrick had suggested that she stay longer this time, not just a quickie weekend. This time he wanted to be sure she was pregnant before she went home. Two weeks would give them more time to work on their goal, and she would be there to take the pregnancy test instead of going home and having the results sent to him through his agents. It would also give him more time to get to know her but that part he didn’t mention to Al Maxwell. Maxwell had already balked enough at the idea. It wasn’t as if money was an issue for flying her all over the country to meet him, and Maxwell argued that taking up two weeks of Gracie’s life went beyond the parameters of the contract. Especially if Gracie didn’t agree to the arrangement. But she did agree, eagerly. A cousin of hers was home from college for the semester and would take over Gracie’s spot at the diner so Gracie could take a vacation.

  At the cantina they ordered boliche with rice and fried sweet plantains. They both agreed that the boliche - a marinated chorizo-stuffed beef roast - was, in fact, delicious.

  “I need to get this recipe!” claimed Gracie between bites. “Becca would just die.”

  “The chef here is pretty tight-lipped with his recipes but my cook at the estate is Cuban and I bet he could give you something that equals it. He won’t be back in until Monday, though. This is another reason I wanted to eat out. I can make peanut butter and jelly, but that’s about it.”

  “I could cook for us,” Gracie offered. “As you can probably tell, I love food. It’s something I inherited from my Nana. She taught my brother Jerome and me everything she knows in the kitchen. He actually does most of the cooking in the diner now that Nana’s getting up there in years.”

  “Well if you’re as good in the kitchen as you are in the bedroom…” Derrick started before remembering his manners. He cleared his throat and looked down to spear another bite of beef.

  Gracie raised an eyebrow seductively, “Oh I excel in every room in the house, you can bet on that.”

  Derrick nearly choked on his boliche.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Derrick nodded, reaching for his water.

  “Thank goodness, that would be the second time I’ve nearly killed you.”

  They were too busy laughing to notice the trio of Japanese tourists approaching their table.

  “Excuse me?” said the tiny Asian woman. “Autograph?”

  Oh no. Derrick groaned inwardly. He thought he wouldn’t be recognized, especially here of all places. Might as well grin and bear it. He looked up with his best people-pleasing smile, but the woman walked right past him.

  “You are, famous actress, yes? Halle Berry?” said the woman.

  “No, no, no! I’m not Halle Berry, I’m sorry.”

  “No Halle Berry?” said an equally diminutive Asian man, confused.

  “No, not Halle Berry, sorry. I’m Gracie from North Carolina.”

  “Oh so sorry!” The trio backed away, and Derrick and Gracie broke into a new fit of laughs.

  “I thought for sure they had spotted me.” Derrick said.

  “I guess you’re not as popular as Halle Berry in Japan!”

  Without thinking Derrick leaned over the table and kissed her. The kiss was quick, he had taken her by surprise, but it was deep. “Halle Berry’s got nothing on you, Gracie.”

  Chapter Seven

  As they left Little Havana and took the causeway to Star Island, Gracie took in all the sights along the way with the wonder of a child. It had been a long time since Derrick had been a tourist in Miami, and he realized that he had forgotten the unique and diverse beauty of the place. He enjoyed seeing things anew through her eyes. Gracie made him realize how much in life he took for granted.

  While his Montana ranch house was humble and homey, his Miami residence was just the opposite. The guard-gated community was home to a number of celebrities and practically screamed money. The lavish two-acre estate with its indoor and outdoor pools, private dock, and tennis court was more Anicka’s style then Derrick’s. At her insistence he had agreed to purchase it at auction back at the beginning of their relationship. She had loved the property - and, in fact, still used it on the sly when Derrick was away, and the only reason she hadn’t been able to requisition it after the divorce was that he had purchased it before their marriage. It was nice to have a private getaway in the middle of the busy city, but Derrick would have been just as happy with a condo in Miami Beach. The seven-bedroom main house was done in the popular Spanish colonial style with matching guest, pool and boathouses. It was all show and no warmth, and it was all too much for a single man. Derrick had considered selling it many times over the past few years, but now he wondered what it would be like filled with children.

  Gracie whistled when they pulled up in the circular drive. “This place is straight out of Scarface.”

  “Naw, that one’s two properties down; don’t worry, I come by my money the honest way.”

  “Right. You’re just a hard-working regular guy, huh?” Gracie teased.

  “Put my pants on one leg at a time even,” Derrick returned.

  “The same way you take them off?”

  “Play your cards right and maybe I’ll show you later.” Derrick took Gracie by the hand. “Come on, let me show you around.

  Derrick gave an astonished Gracie the grand tour of the estate - her favorite part was the over-sized gourmet kitchen, of all things - and they ended up out on the back terrace as the sun was beginning to set into the Atlantic Ocean. The sky was lit up in warm hues of reds, purples and pinks and a cool breeze blew in off the bay. It blew the hair back from Gracie’s face; her soft features were accented by the glow of the setting sun. Derrick thought she would make the perfect painting an
d wished he had some way to capture her in that exact moment.

  “It’s beautiful, Derrick,” she said, taking in a deep breath of the salty air.

  “It really is,” he agreed, but he wasn’t talking about the sunset. Impulsively, he asked, “Have you ever thought there was something more?”

  “More than this?” Gracie said, sweeping her hand across the view.

  “More to life, I mean.”

  Gracie shrugged. “Life is what you make it. I was raised to believe that anything you want is obtainable, and I don’t mean mansions and yachts. I think that you have to find fulfillment inside yourself. I think I’m almost there; but yeah, I think there is something more. I’m just not sure what it is yet. What about you?”

  “I’m thinking there’s more than mansions and yachts too. It just took me twenty years to realize it. That’s why I wanted to have a child of my own. I thought that might complete me - start living my life for somebody else for a change. Does that make sense?”

  “It makes a lot of sense.” Gracie looked up at Derrick, the glint of the water reflecting off of her eyes. He wanted her more than he had every wanted anyone at that moment. She smiled slowly. “So is that pool heated or what?”

  “It certainly is.”

  “Feel like taking a dip?”

  “Did you bring a swim suit? We could get…”

  “Who needs a suit?” Gracie interrupted.

  “A woman after my own heart.”

  Gracie laughed as she peeled her dress over her head and kicked off her sandals. She ran to the pool and dove gracefully in. Derrick stripped off his clothes and boots in and when she resurfaced her lacy bra and panties were floating in the water behind her. She stood there in the shallows with steam rising around her wet and gleaming body. Water ran in rivulets from her hair and down over her breasts, dripping from the tips of her nipples, like some seductive mermaid. Derrick could feel his erection pressing at his soaked boxers, just begging to be set free. He pulled them down and kicked them away as he swam toward her.