A Little Help from Above

by Saralee Rosenberg

  “I don’t care what anybody says about you, Shelby Dear. You’ve got a big heart.”

  It was a historic moment in Shelby’s life, as it had been ages since the words Shelby and big heart had been uttered in the same sentence. But, sadly, the lovefest was about to end. In spite of her great strides on the humanitarian front, she had made an executive decision. It was time to return to Chicago, where she was free to pursue her single, selfish existence. Not that life was nirvana there, either. It was just safer than living under the constant threat of being needed.

  So although she felt relieved to be on speaking terms with her father and Aunt Roz, she was not interested in suddenly becoming the long-lost, dutiful daughter who sacrificed herself for their lengthy rehabilitation. Nor did she see herself playing the role of devoted sister, procreating from her loins, just for the sake of immortalizing the Lazarus family genes.

  But there was something more. Being back on Majestic Drive was harder than she imagined, with each passing day turning her youthful, bittersweet memories into an obsession. She simply could not stop wondering what her life would have been like had it gone according to plan. If Dr. Weiner had done his job and her mother was alive to nurture her. If she and Matty remained in New York and in love. It would just be easier if images of her past weren’t constantly haunting her.

  And, too, it would only be a matter of time before the novelty of family togetherness wore thin. Which would presumably happen upon her declaration she would not, could not, play Surrogate Barbie.

  There were numerous reasons, of course, but the most compelling argument, the one she need not apologize for, had to do with the stability of Lauren and Avi’s relationship. With its tenuous, flimsy backbone, it was hardly the altar on which to build a family. Shelby simply couldn’t bring a life into this world that was dependent on those two cornflakes for sustenance.

  Lauren, naturally, insisted that Shelby was dead wrong about her and Avi. That she simply didn’t understand what made them tick. To which Shelby replied, “Fine. I’m wrong. Come to think of it, you two remind me of Tracy and Hepburn. What I don’t get is how you expect me to go through with this surrogacy business after bringing me to see Dr. Dickhead.”

  “I’m sorry, Shel.” Lauren ran after her in the office parking lot. “How did I know Dr. Kessler would be at the hospital doing an emergency C-section, and you’d have to see his partner?”

  “One little call, that’s how!” Shelby cried out. “Good morning. I’m bringing over my very paranoid, terrified sister for her first pelvic exam in twenty years, and I just wanted to make sure she’ll be seeing Dr. Kessler, and not his arrogant, son of a bitch associate who has about as much bedside manner as a rottweiler in heat.”

  “Fine. I should have called. But it’s not my fault you didn’t come here with an open mind.”

  “Damn right! It was bad enough I had to come here with open legs,” Shelby yelled. “Why didn’t you warn me I was going to have to slide my ass down a hard table while Dr. I-Hate-Women shoved a duckmouth and a giant Q-tip inside me?”

  “How did you think they did a pelvic exam, Shel? With a psychic and a wand?”

  “Whatever. I still can’t believe you go to a male gynecologist. Would you use an auto mechanic who never drove a car?” Shelby slammed the car door to make her point.

  She had so come with an open mind, thanks to a leftover Valium from Lauren’s designer medicine collection. And it wasn’t as if she was so naive she didn’t expect the doctor to go where no doctor had gone before. But certain bodily explorations aside, she never imagined the whole experience would be so primitive.

  Even the questionnaire she filled out prior to getting that lovely paper gown was downright insulting. Was she sexually active? Lord knows she gave it her best shot, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to titillate the staff with Candace Bushnell-like details.

  “I’m sorry this wasn’t what you expected, but I still can’t believe you.” Lauren started the car. “I haven’t heard that much swearing since I saw Eddie Murphy live at Westbury Music Fair.”

  “What did you think? That I’d smile for the nice man while he sexually abused me?”

  “He did not abuse you. I was there the whole time. If anybody was abused, it was him.”

  “Oh, yeah. Let’s have a sympathy party for poor Dr. Rubber Gloves. He gets to spend his whole day fondling women’s breasts and staring at their asses.”

  “You’re crazy! He’s a medical doctor, not a porn star!”

  “Bullshit,” Shelby sulked. “Once men take off their costumes, they’re all alike.”

  “That’s not true, Shel. Dr. Kessler is a sweetheart. He would have made you feel completely comfortable before he examined you.”

  Shelby shook her head. “You just don’t understand.”

  “Yes, I do. You think the whole thing is embarrassing and degrading.”

  “It’s nothing like that!” Shelby snapped. “Nothing whatsoever!”

  “Then what is it?” Lauren flinched. “Why did you get so worked up in there?”

  Shelby rolled down the window and leaned back.

  “Are you afraid they’re going to hurt you?” Lauren persisted. “I have this friend, Denise, who gets these panic attacks whenever she goes to the doctor, and…”

  “Stop!” Shelby yelled. “Stop right now. You want to know the problem?” She took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you the problem. I’m afraid some asshole doctor will discover something terribly wrong with me, and I’ll end up spending what little time I have left in tremendous pain, while he consults with someone on the golf course and drives away in his Range Rover. I’m afraid I’ll never win a Pulitzer prize, or see Matty again, all because I’ll be dead at thirty-eight. Just like Mommy!”

  “Oh my God,” Lauren gasped. “I had no idea you were even thinking anything like that. You never said a word. But of course it makes sense that that’s why you’re so paranoid. You poor thing.”

  Shelby blew into a tissue and begged Lauren to dispense with the Psych 101 chatter. The only thing she hated worse than attracting sympathy was feeling abject humiliation for having opened her emotional crypt, with its raw, dark center. For now that it was revealed, surely Lauren would seize the moment and pry even further under the pretense of helping Shelby find a cure for what ailed her.

  Except that Shelby didn’t want to be cured. She was happy with her fears. They were comfortable and familiar to her, and she was the consummate expert on avoiding them completely. The same way she’d learned how to preserve her safety by bypassing questionable neighborhoods when covering a story.

  On the other hand, this breakdown in the car was a defining moment, for it was then Shelby knew her only choice was to leave. She thanked Lauren for not dwelling on her little outburst and insisted she’d be fine after she showered and rested. But no sooner did Lauren drop her home than Shelby packed, called United, then paged Avi.

  “You’re picking me up at one o’clock and taking me to La Guardia. And if you so much as breathe a word of this to Lauren, I swear I’ll tell her you’ve been hitting on me since the minute we met. And then you can damn well kiss my daddy’s money good-bye. Got it?”

  Avi got it. At exactly one o’clock, he honked his horn, and Shelby was on her way, confident Lauren could not intervene. After she arrived in Chicago she would call and explain herself. And, naturally, she would promise to return on a regular basis. She just needed her permanent address to have a different zip code than her family’s. They would simply have to understand, as she was not going to give them a choice.

  Some things never change. Shelby was always good at running away. In fact, as a child, escape and denial were pretty much her two best friends. The minute things didn’t go her way she’d head for Matty’s house, or ride her bike around until her legs gave out. “Give her time,” I’d tell Larry, whose first reaction was to follow her in the car. “She’ll be back.” Sure enough, like the swallows of Capistrano, she always returned home in t
ime for dinner.

  I do hope Lauren remembers that about her sister. Because she’s certainly not going to be happy when she discovers Shelby has flown the coop. First-class, no less.

  Avi promised Shelby that he would give her a head start, but he never specified how much of one. Immediately after dropping Shelby at the United terminal, he phoned Lauren.

  “What do you mean she’s on her way home?” Lauren screamed into her cell phone.

  “What ken we do? She changed her mind about helping us.”

  “Well, for starters, we didn’t have to provide the getaway car!”

  I hate when Lauren drives like a speed demon. It puts a lot of pressure on me to keep her out of harm’s way, and lately her mind has been so preoccupied, it’s practically become a full-time job. Right now she’s on the Grand Central Parkway, but the way she’s flying by, you’d think she was in the cockpit of a small plane.

  It’s because she’s on a mission. As soon as she realized that her ticket to motherhood was ticketed for a flight home to Chicago, she knew she had to think of a way to stop her. Once Shelby set foot on that plane, she’d be focused on getting a new job, a new boyfriend, a new life. All hope of her saying yes to being a surrogate would disappear into the clouds. Not that Shelby had budged on the issue since the last three times Lauren brought it up.

  Unfortunately, Shelby isn’t the only one Lauren has to convince to play the surrogate sweepstakes. Avi, too, is less enthusiastic these days now that he’s discovered the process of fathering a baby with a woman other than his wife has nothing to do with having sex. It’s all lab and no love.

  But first things first. Lauren needs to find Shelby, then find the right words to get her to at least think about bearing her a child. Oh look. There’s Shelby getting coffee. And there’s Lauren, driving round and round, looking for a parking spot. What if I try to find her a spot, and you try to delay Shelby’s flight? Oh, right. This is my story. I’m on my own here.

  Avi had guessed Shelby was on United’s flight # 27 based on the time she arrived at the airport, but Lauren couldn’t be bothered with details. She’d find her sister if she had to scour every inch of the terminal. Or not. Almost immediately she found Shelby sitting quietly in the gate area, sipping coffee, and reading what looked like a diary.

  Lauren knew she would have to approach gingerly. So before walking the plank, she checked the flight’s departure time, looked at her watch, and calculated she had fifteen minutes to say what she was going to say. Whatever that was.

  Lauren cleared her throat. “Hey, Shel.”

  “Oh God.” Shelby jumped. “I swear I’m going to kill Avi. He promised to give me a big lead!”

  “C’mon, Shel. He’s my husband. He loves me.”

  “Whatever…How did you get here so fast? He dropped me off not twenty minutes ago.”

  “What ken I say?” she mimicked her husband. “He taught me lots of shortcuts.”

  Shelby nodded, sipping the last drip of coffee. “It’s not going to help, you know. There’s nothing you can say to make me change my mind.”

  “I know. I just wanted to make sure I saw you before you left, so I could at least say thank you for everything you did.”

  “You don’t really expect me to believe that?” Shelby searched her bag for a mint.

  “No, really. I mean it. I want you to know how much it meant to me that you saw the doctor, even though it totally freaked you out. I mean, everyone said you were too selfish to do it, but I disagreed. I said deep down you were a very kind, loving person.”

  “Who’s everyone?” Shelby stuck out her chin.

  “Doesn’t matter. My point is I wanted you to know that even though this isn’t working out the way I hoped, I really appreciate that you tried.”

  “Uh-huh,” Shelby said. “You do know your ruse is about as see through as Saran Wrap.”

  Lauren shrugged. “So watcha reading?”

  “An old diary.” Shelby looked down at the faded yellow book with the legendary seventies daisy on the cover. “The one I kept in seventh grade.”

  “Oh, God. I would hate to read mine. That was the year I got my period and my boobs grew like crazy. I was miserable.”

  “I actually remember that.” Shelby started to laugh. “Aunt Roz took you to A&S to buy your first bra, and you came home with this monster-sized thing that would have fit Granny Bea Good.”

  “Yeah, and then you yelled at her for being such an idiot, and drove me back over there so you could help me pick out something pretty.”

  “But she needs SUPPORT,” Shelby mimicked Aunt Roz.

  Lauren laughed and wiped her eye. “I’m not sure, but that might have been the nicest thing you ever did for me.”

  “Oh come on. I used to do lots of nice things for you.”

  “Like what?” Lauren began to breathe easier.

  “Are you kidding? Don’t you remember how I used to shlep you and your friends all over the place? Oh and how about that time I drove you and what’s his name into the city so you could have a real date? And then…”

  “Okay, okay.” Lauren laughed. “You were a good sister. Now what I need…is for you to be the best sister in the whole world.”

  “Whoa.” Shelby held up her hand. “I thought you came here to say thanks. No pressure.”

  “I lied?” Lauren bit her lip.

  “Forget it.” Shelby looked down. “All I said was I’d get examined. That’s it.”

  “What if we find a different doctor?” Lauren pleaded. “I spoke to my friend Elise, and she uses Murray Hill OB/GYN in the city. All the doctors are women, and she loves them…”

  “It has nothing to do with who the doctor is, Lauren. It has to do with the personal decision I’ve made. I do not want to lie on a table getting sperm shot up me so I can spend the next nine months peeing and puking, until finally I get the privilege of dying during childbirth.”

  Lauren picked at a hangnail. It didn’t take General Patton to see she was not only going to lose the battle, but the war. Time to resort to her final option. She suddenly threw herself onto the floor and begged. “Please, please, please have my baby,” she wailed so loud all the passengers within earshot looked over, trying to guess who these women were to each other.

  “Stop it!” Shelby gritted. “You’re creating a scene. They’re going to think we’re gay.”

  “I don’t care.” Lauren bawled. “I just wish Mommy was alive so she could see what a selfish person you turned into.”

  “I resent that!”

  “Well, I resent you, Shel. You got Mommy’s skinny body, her pretty face, her brains. All I inherited was her widow’s peak and DES!” She buried her face and sobbed.

  Shelby wanted to pummel Lauren for acting out in public. “Look, I’m sorry you got gypped. But that still doesn’t give you the right to impose your dreams on me without any consideration of how it will affect my life.”

  “I have no choice.” Lauren wiped her tears on her sleeve. “You’re the only one who can help me. And what about considering how your selfish decision will affect my life?”

  “Why am I being selfish? Just because things didn’t turn out the way you wanted doesn’t mean I have to turn my whole life upside down and make everything better. If you and Avi are so gung ho about having a baby, then talk to an attorney about adoption.”

  Suddenly the gate area was buzzing. Shelby wasn’t sure exactly how or when she lost control of their conversation. She only knew from the din of debate, fellow passengers had taken it upon themselves to argue about which of the sisters was right.

  In fact, opinions were flying, which was more than could be said for their flight. An unexpected delay was announced due to a surprise storm that had hit the Midwest, stranding dozens of planes in the air. But many of the passengers didn’t seem to care, as they were otherwise engaged.

  “Sounds to me like you owe her.” A grandmother wagged her finger at Shelby.

  “I loved being pregnant,” a young mothe
r offered. “You get to eat whatever you want.”

  “We would do it for each other.” Two older women, presumably sisters, clutched hands.

  Shelby looked at the circle of strangers who felt within their rights to share their position on the matter. Had the world gone mad? Didn’t they realize that conceiving and carrying a baby was a life-altering decision that would have repercussions long after her uterus was vacated?

  She would be linked biologically to this child forever, say nothing of the connection if they actually looked alike. People would presume they were mother and child, requiring an explanation of the relationship. But hadn’t she done enough explaining after Aunt Roz became her stepmother? The last thing she wanted was to spend the rest of her life clarifying yet another unusual familial arrangement.

  And yet looking into Lauren’s desperate eyes, Shelby couldn’t ignore their bond. In spite of their major differences, Lauren was still her baby sister. The one who climbed on her lap and begged to be read to. The one who followed her around the house pleading with Shelby to play. The one who drove out to the Hamptons to fetch Shelby when she was too stoned to get herself home. The one who sent flowers every time Shelby got a new job. The one who had really never asked anything of her, other than love and friendship.

  Then again, she’d be crazy to make a decision of this magnitude with a gun to her head. If she said yes on impulse, she’d be committing herself to taking endless tests that involved needles. She’d be subjecting herself to humiliating, spread-eagle indignities at the doctor’s office. She’d have to take those awful iron pills, which she’d heard from friends made doodies come out hard as rocks. Her wardrobe would consist of polyester jumpers. She’d have to eat.

  But the greatest sacrifice, clearly, would be her own sex life. No doubt Lauren hadn’t considered that for a second. Why should she? She could still be getting it on with her husband while Shelby’s ankles swelled, her back went into spasms, and she had to pee every fifteen minutes. Oh, sure. She’d be real desirable then. Men would come running.