A Little Help from Above

by Saralee Rosenberg

  “No, that’s not it. I’m seeing an event that’s still on the horizon.”

  “Hmm…I can’t think of anyone else…Unless…Oh, my God.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been searching for a childhood friend for a really long time. Do you think…”

  “It’s possible. What I do know is the timing is around a Venus retrograde, which means when it happens, it’s going to be under very strange circumstances. There will be lots of confusion and misunderstandings. And then boom, major fireworks and love is in the air!”

  “What’s your address?” Shelby whipped out her Palm Pilot. “I can be at your place anytime. Name the day.”

  I know exactly why that Ian fellow put Shelby next to the little fageleh who does the paper’s horoscopes. He’s hoping to finally arouse her curiosity, and help her understand that all the energy of the universe, the planets, the oceans, and the beings is truly interconnected. That those who work with the natural ebb and flow of life forces are at peace, and the rest are left to fight the mighty tide of adversity and misfortune.

  That’s the basis of astrology you know. That the planetary cycles are directly related to the events on earth. And the reason why for centuries, people who paid close attention to the rhythmic signs of the time were so accomplished. I’m not kidding. You think the three wise men (aptly named), Pythagoras, Nostradamus, and Isaac Newton just got lucky? No. They studied the stars. Even the world’s first shrink, Carl Jung, understood the link between the man and the moon, so to speak. He said, and I quote, “We are born at a given moment, in a given place, and like vintage years of wine, we have the qualities of the year and of the season in which we are born.”

  Do I think Shelby will ever understand any of this? No. But then I also never expected to look down and see her eating Krispy Kreme donuts, either.

  The familiar route to the Family Reproductive Institute in Garden City was quickly becoming the all-too-familiar route. In spite of the fact Shelby diligently took a daily regimen of prenatal vitamins to build up her folic acids, carefully monitored her cycles with her handy home ovulation detection kit, and took the prescribed amount of Clomid, the first two months of inseminations were a bust. And the natives were growing restless.

  Avi was not happy having to drop everything in the middle of his busy day to run over to the Center and masturbate on demand when Shelby phoned, and said, “It’s me. Get over there.” Nor was he pleased Lauren was unsympathetic to his plight. She should try reaching orgasm in a small room with no one around to help out, he thought.

  A very understanding technician at the Institute suggested he bring in a few issues of Penthouse and some silk undies from his wife’s drawer. But Avi had a better solution.

  “Maybe Shelby ken be naked in the room with me?” he suggested to Lauren.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she replied.

  “How about a picture of her naked? She doesn’t have to smile.”

  A quick-reacting Avi ducked, just before an airborne object sailed past his head.

  Shelby wasn’t exactly having the best time either. There was no joy in getting completely undressed in an air-conditioned examining room, putting on a stiff paper gown, and lying with her feet propped in cold metal stirrups.

  Nor was it pleasant waiting for the technician to come in with Avi’s hot-off-the-press sperm catch. Or having to lie still while the slim catheter was carefully inserted transvaginally.

  Not that she’d actually succeeded on that front. During the first insemination, they needed two medical assistants to hold her down and one doctor to revive her.

  The second insemination went a little more smoothly. Shelby actually remained on the table for the entire procedure, and never passed out. She did, however, vomit all over herself, after discovering her stomach didn’t agree with the yogurt that must have gone bad.

  “I hope you’re not disappointed if we don’t make you this year’s poster child,” Gabe, the kindly technician, chuckled afterward. “But at least this time you didn’t try to choke me.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Shelby tugged at his tie.

  “Did you mean what you said at Dr. Grasso’s office?” Lauren asked Shelby on the drive over to the Family Reproductive Institute for the third series of inseminations. “It’s three strikes and you’re out?”

  “I don’t know.” Shelby shrugged. “If it doesn’t take this time, maybe you should just take it as a sign you need to find someone else.”

  “No.”

  “Lauren, don’t be delusional! You know as well as I, the odds are a hundred times better with a younger woman. Twenty-year-olds can get pregnant at the scent of sperm in the room.”

  “Is this your way of saying you’re giving up?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just don’t think you should be putting all my eggs in one basket.”

  Lauren laughed. No matter how bad she felt, Shelby could always cheer her up.

  “On the other hand”—Shelby coughed—“there is something about this I didn’t tell you.”

  “Oh my God. Is it something bad?” Lauren nearly careened off the road.

  “No, it’s something good. Would you please watch what you’re doing? In this country we drive on the right.”

  “Sorry. You’ve got me so nervous. What didn’t you tell me?”

  “Well…the Informer has this supposedly well-known astrologer who writes the daily horoscopes and then does these private charts on the side. Anyway, he did a reading for me.”

  “Oh my God. You got a reading from Warner Lamm?”

  “Yes. You’ve heard of him?”

  “Are you serious? He’s so amazing, people wait a whole year to get a reading with him. I can’t believe you actually know him and didn’t tell me. You have to get me in.”

  “Okay, okay. But I’m telling you he’s a fruitcake. On the other hand, I have to admit the things he told me blew me away.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well for starters, he pegged my personality to a tee.”

  “Sorry.” Lauren snickered. “But that doesn’t take a psychic to figure out.”

  “Very funny. No, I’m serious. I have the whole thing on tape, and although a lot of it was gobbledygook, you’ll be happy to know he told me why I’m so cynical, distant, and mean-spirited. It has something to do with my ascendant being squared to my Saturn…”

  “Ah-hah! I knew it wasn’t my imagination.” Lauren nodded. “What else?”

  “He said my Moon was in Aquarius, so I’ll always have lots of friends and acquaintances, but no real attachments because my privacy and freedom are more important. But this was the really cool part. He also said I have Mercury in Sagittarius, which explains why I’m always looking for the hidden patterns in things. In other words, I don’t care about the facts as much as I care about what they mean.”

  “I’d say that’s true. That’s why you’re such a good reporter.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But what does any of this have to do with THE BABY?”

  “I’m getting there. One of the other things he said was he saw me being in the family way.”

  “Really?” This time Lauren did careen off the road onto the shoulder. “Are you serious? The great Warner Lamm told you you’d get pregnant?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “Oh my God.” Lauren hugged Shelby. “That’s the best news I think I’ve ever heard. When?”

  “Sometime this year. It’s on the horizon, he said.”

  “I have to call Avi!” Lauren screamed. “This is so unbelievable. I’m shaking, Shel. I knew this would all work out if I just kept the faith.”

  While waiting for the third insemination to begin, Shelby lay quietly, feeling surprisingly calm. Maybe it was the positive reading she’d gotten from Warner, or the fact she’d simply grown accustomed to the drill. But in all likelihood, the reason she felt relaxed was because she’d remanded Lauren to the waiting room. “Then I won’t have to listen to
your stupid old Indian chants while you wave a dream catcher and peppermint incense in my face.”

  “You seem so relaxed,” Gabe, the technician, said. “Did you meditate like I told you to?”

  “No. I got rid of Lauren like you told me to.”

  “Good thinking. I couldn’t take any more of that peppermint incense. Now just promise me I won’t have to play middle linebacker and tackle you today.”

  “I’ll be good, I promise.”

  “Okay then.” He carefully inserted the catheter. “Let’s take a deep breath and think only good thoughts.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Perhaps the only ritual reminiscent of Shelby’s former life was that she still got up every morning at seven to do a three-mile jog. Even after Lauren begged her not to, citing the near tragedy with their father and Aunt Roz as reason enough to stop. “It’s so risky,” she cried.

  Of course, Shelby knew the real reason Lauren kept nagging her was she feared Shelby’s rigorous run might jostle Avi’s sperm to a point where they’d get so mixed up they’d never find an egg. But even after Dr. Grasso assured Lauren that exercise had no bearing on conception, she still trailed Shelby by car, just in case she was suddenly felled by the heat, or stumbled on a pebble and twisted her ankle.

  But now that a chill was in the early-November air, Shelby begged Lauren to stay home. With no humidity, she was in runner’s paradise, and the invigorating outing was the one thing keeping her sane. “The only sex I’ve had in the past three months has been with a goddamn turkey baster!” she complained. “So get off my case.”

  The next morning, however, Shelby returned from her run feeling nauseous and weak, and collapsed. Maybe she had been pushing herself too hard, especially now that the flu was going around the office. Tomorrow she’d take it easy and build up her strength. Then she’d be fine again.

  Or not. For at that moment, vomit was erupting from the pit of her stomach. Down on her knees she fell, retching into the toilet bowl, holding on to the cool porcelain for dear life as the room spun. Was anything worse than the dry heaves and the head-banger that followed?

  Finally, Shelby slumped in a heap on the floor. This was the damn flu, all right. She probably caught it from Warner. Hadn’t he come in last week looking white as a ghost? And then had the nerve to use her phone because the cord on his had too much static? Shit!

  Just as she crawled into bed, the phone rang. “Oh, God! Not now!” she yelled before picking up. “What do you want?”

  “Good morning to you, too,” Lauren said. “What’s with you?”

  “I’m sick, okay?” Shelby groaned. “I think I have the flu. Call me back later.”

  “No! Wait,” Lauren screamed. “How do you know you’re sick?”

  “Because I just puked all over myself, and half the office is out with the flu.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you have it,” she squealed. “Maybe it’s morning sickness.”

  A stunned Shelby bolted upright. Morning sickness? “What’s today?” The question nearly made her puke again.

  “The seventh. November 7. Look at the chart I gave you. You’ll see. Your last period was October 3. I remember because it was the day before Avi’s birthday. Then you got inseminated two weeks later. So count. It’s almost three weeks later. You should have gotten your period by now. Right?”

  “Uh-huh.” Shelby started to feel faint.

  “Well. Did you get it?” Lauren, the prosecutor, asked.

  “No. And come to think of it, my boobs are killing me.”

  “Oh, my God!” Lauren screamed. “This might be it. Go get the home pregnancy kit I bought. It’s on the top shelf of the linen closet. No wait. I’m coming over. Promise me you won’t do anything until I get there. Don’t even pee.”

  Shelby hung up, just in time to race back to the toilet. Did Lauren know what she was talking about? God help her if she was wrong. God help them both if she was right.

  “What took you so long?” Shelby flung open the door to the guesthouse. “I have to pee so bad it’s going to come through my nose.”

  “Sorry.” Lauren ran in holding a plastic sack. “I decided to stop at the drugstore to get another test kit. In case the first one isn’t conclusive.”

  “You mean in case it doesn’t test positive.” Shelby grabbed the bag. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up. This couldn’t possibly be pregnancy. I feel like death. What do I have to do?” She held her crotch.

  “Nothing. Just pee on the end of the stick.”

  “Which end?”

  “Which end?” Lauren laughed. “Are you serious? Don’t you keep a case of these at home?”

  “What kind of girl do you think I am?” Shelby wiggled.

  “Here. Give me that.” Lauren pulled the kit out of the bag and tore open a tester. “See these two bars. Pee on those.”

  “Okay. Wish me luck,” Shelby grabbed it. “I’m not used to having a target.”

  Lauren stood by the door, never more anxious to hear the beautiful sounds of tinkling. “How many times did you throw up?” she asked.

  “I lost count.”

  “Did you eat anything this morning?” Lauren put her ear to the door.

  “I didn’t have time.”

  “Shel-bee,” Lauren whined. “You promised you wouldn’t starve yourself.”

  “I haven’t, okay? I did my run, came back to shower, and then I was going to have breakfast when the attack of the killer bug hit me. Are you standing right by the door?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well don’t. I can’t pee if there’s an audience.”

  “Sorry.” Lauren started to pace over by the bed.

  She, too, felt suddenly nauseous. Was it possible to be experiencing sympathy pains already? Or, God forbid, the flu? Finally, at the sound of the toilet flushing, Lauren ran back to the door, tripped over Shelby’s running shoes, lost her balance, and collided with Shelby, just as Shelby was opening the door with the cup of urine in her hand.

  They watched the warm, yellow liquid spill over the top of the cup onto Shelby’s shirt.

  “You idiot!” Shelby shouted. “Look what you did!”

  “I’m sorry,” Lauren yelled back. “I tripped over your stupid shoes. And why did you pee in a cup? I told you to pee on the stick. You’re the idiot…”

  “I did pee on the stick, but then I figured since I had plenty of extra, I’d put it in here. In case we needed more.”

  “It’s not a recipe, Shel.” Lauren laughed. “So where is it?”

  “It’s in there. I figure I’ll take a shower and when I’m out…we’ll look at it I guess.”

  “Are you serious? You’re going to take a shower now? You’re not even going to wait to see if the two lines turn pink?”

  “What difference does it make? A few minutes either way won’t matter.”

  “Shel-bee,” Lauren whined. “Don’t be negative. This is the moment we’ve waited for.”

  “I’m not being negative. But I’ve got vomit on my arm and piss on my shirt.”

  “Fine. Then give me the stick. I’ll watch it out here.”

  Lauren sat at the desk by the window, and reread the directions to make sure she knew how this test kit worked. She hadn’t used this brand before, but her friend Elise thought it was the most accurate. At least the instructions were clear. Wait three minutes before examining the tester. If both test bars turned pink, it was positive for pregnancy. If one stayed blue, the result was negative.

  “Please be pink. Please be pink.”

  At two minutes and counting, the phone rang, startling Lauren. Should she get it? There was no answering machine on this line, and Shelby would be pissed if she missed a call from the office. But Lauren was too nervous to move. Oh, what the hell. She picked up the cup and slowly carried it over to the phone on the nightstand. “Hello?”

  “Shelby, is that you, dear?”

  “No, it’s Lauren. Who’s this?”

  “It’s Irma,” she said quietly. “Irma
Weiner. Is Shelby there?”

  “She’s busy at the moment. Can I take a message?” One minute and counting.

  “Well actually…no. I think it’s best if I speak to her myself. Could you have her call me back as soon as possible? I’m at home.”

  “Does she have your number?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is everything all right, Irma?” Lauren couldn’t believe she was actually carrying on a phone conversation while her heart was pounding so fast it felt as if it would burst.

  Irma hesitated again. “Actually, no dear. I have some rather unfortunate news to share. I…oh boy, I didn’t want to have to leave her a message. But please tell her…Dr. Weiner passed away early this morning.”

  “Uh-huh,” Lauren held up the test strip to the light. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” It was the most beautiful shade of pink she’d ever seen.

  “What did you say?” Irma gasped.

  “It turned pink.” She jumped up and down. “The stick turned pink!”

  “Excuse me?”

  Lauren heard Irma’s voice and panicked. “I’m sorry. Did you just say Dr. Weiner died?”

  “Yes. What’s going on over there?”

  “I am so, so sorry. But the most incredible thing just happened. Shelby took a home pregnancy test a few minutes ago, and it came out positive!”

  “That’s wonderful,” Irma let out a joyous cry. “I’m so happy for you. Can I speak to her?”

  “No, because she doesn’t even know yet. She’s still in the shower.”

  “Oh, dear. Well, look. This is going to be a very exciting time for you two, and I don’t want to spoil it. Please don’t say anything to her yet.”

  “Are you sure? I know Shelby’s going to want to know.”

  “I think it’s best, dear. He’s gone, and there’s nothing we can do for him. Your news is about life. About the future. It’s just so ironic though, don’t you think? One soul moves on, another one moves in. So goes the circle of life…We’ll be doing something graveside. I’ll call back after I’ve finalized the arrangements.”