The Doctor and the War Widow

by Russell, Viola

  Harley drew in an exasperated breath. Sometimes, Judy was too paranoid by half. “Why shouldn’t I give her an interview? She was one of the smartest kids I ever taught, and she’s making quite a name for herself.”

  “You’ve always guarded the Susan Weber secret. I just thought you didn’t want people to know who you really were.” Judy sounded concerned.

  “The only reason I was secretive is because I taught teenagers in Catholic school and wrote about sex. I don’t have to worry about that any longer.” Harley sighed. Sometimes she was relieved she no longer had to worry about teaching. At other times, she mourned the days when teaching had brought her such joy. What she missed was her early commitment to kids and to learning, but Harley had been coasting for a long time.

  “How do you feel about that really?”

  “Glad that I’m out of the situation I’m in, but I miss Harley the idealist.”

  “What if this interview brings out Kimberly the fruitcake?” Judy pressed.

  Harley’s blood ran like an icy stream in her veins. Her heart pounded. “Well, maybe that’s what it will take to catch her. I want her behind bars, and I think you’re right. She won’t just leave us alone.” She shook off her chill. “I must go. Kiss Nico for me. I’ll miss my shower, and I’d like some kinky sex before I’m really fat.”

  Harley greeted Katie Urban at her home on Halloween. The girl was still remarkably like Harley had remembered her—very polite with long, coltish legs and dark-brown eyes.

  “Jennifer told us you’d been fired. None of us from the class of ’05 could believe it.” Katie embraced her and then bent to scratch Nico’s ears.

  “I’m glad it happened.” Harley was suddenly struck by how much she meant the words. This class was the last group of kids to experience her full prowess as a teacher. Maybe Katrina had caused the void in her heart, but she’d coasted ever since. Luckily, she was a good enough teacher that she could pass muster with minimal prepping, and Eden’s illness had taken its toll. John’s death, her mother’s long illness and demise, and Hurricane Katrina had sapped her energy and altered her outlook on life. Teaching had once been her life source, but writing was now her focus. Yet—sometimes she missed the thrill of the classroom. She poured them both iced tea. “It’s decaffeinated, I’m afraid. My husband will only let me have this because of the baby. Tell me, how did you find out about Susan Weber?”

  Katie giggled and followed her to the couch. “I’m a reporter, a writer like you. You know that if you search someone on the net enough you can find out all sorts of things. You have two Facebook accounts. One is as Susan Weber. The other is Harley Michel. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

  “Okay, Katie, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Your writing, your new life, being ‘outed’ as a writer, the new baby.”

  Harley grinned at her. “In other words, everything.”

  “You’d better believe it. You’re on the front page of the ‘Living’ section of the paper on Sunday.” Katie took a sip of iced tea, reached in a huge purse for her recorder, and started the interview.

  The interview appeared the following Sunday as Katie had promised. Harley’s smiling face beamed from the front page. She looked sexy and alluring in a new designer sarong. The article discussed her newest book and the still-to-be-released book on Grace O’Malley. She talked about her gratitude to her early students for their support and love. She then gushed about her new husband and unborn child.

  When the reporter asked her if being fired was the best thing that ever happened to her, Harley said, “Yes, I spend more time on my writing, and I’ve never been happier. Of course, it’s always sad that people you once trusted are the ones who betrayed you and wanted your downfall. Someone who was once my friend instigated my firing, but I don’t dwell on the past. I’m also starting a new project. Once I finish promoting Grace O’Malley, I’m going to begin a book on a stalker.”

  Kimberly Cheramie sat in a hotel on Tulane Avenue, smoking cannabis and drinking gin as she read the morning paper. Kimberly grimaced as she read the article and ran into the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet bowl. That bitch had a new baby, husband, and a successful career.

  “Why wasn’t all of that mine?”

  How lucky was that bitch?

  Kimberly balled a fist. Even her career was ruined. Abisi, the bastard, had seen to that. She couldn’t even work in a hospital, but she could cause them grief. The slut had said something about a friend betraying her. Maybe she could find out something from this friend. How? Call the school pretending to be an aluma? Maybe. Staggering back to the table in the dingy room, she took a knife and stabbed the paper repeatedly. “Bitch! Whore!”

  “So you like making love to pregnant women?” Harley giggled as Abisi stroked her rounding stomach.

  “There is nothing more beautiful than a pregnant woman, my darling, particularly when it’s you.” Abisi laughed, stroked her face, and planted a smoldering kiss on her lips.

  “Did my interview embarrass you at the hospital?” Harley laughed as he kissed he stomach. His beard tickled, and he ran his fingertips along her midsection to her womanhood. They lay in bed together the Monday after the interview ran in the paper. Nico pawed on the door. He didn’t like the nights he was locked out. Harley called to him. “Sorry, Nico, go to the guest bedroom.”

  “Embarrass me? No, everyone was impressed I’d married a celebrity. Some of the women on staff have read your books. They were all sincerely impressed.” He ran his lips along her breasts and took one in his mouth. “The men also were impressed that I’d gotten a stunning creature like you to marry me. Every man there found you beautiful.”

  “I’m glad I wasn’t an embarrassment. I wouldn’t want to think I’d given a respectable doctor a scandalous reputation.” Harley let her lips linger under his chin and then licked him, moving her tongue rapidly. She waited for his groan of pleasure and ducked under the blankets.

  “Forget respectability.” Abisi pulled the blankets from her and kissed her neck and shoulders. She sighed with pleasure as Abisi ran his hands along her back, turning her already wet skin to gooseflesh. She let her hands roll along his thighs and legs. Eventually, she searched until she grasped his testes in her hand, massaging them to the point of arousal. He shifted her under him and kissed her legs and thighs until she sighed, melting under his smoldering passion. Waves of pleasure washed over her as he disappeared between her legs, arousing her to ecstasy. Abisi nibbled on her arms and legs until she sighed and relaxed her thighs. Harley buried her fingers into his shoulders as she drew him close, feeling the thrust of his desire enter the precious depths of her fully aroused womanhood. Never had she felt so complete as when she and her lover celebrated the life they had created growing within her.

  “Will you be all right to go to London this December?” Abisi collapsed beside her, one arm slung under Harley’s neck.

  “No reason not to, my love.” Harley turned onto her side, studying her husband’s face. “Are you worried about me?”

  “I’m always worried about you. You’re my life.” Abisi drew her to him and kissed her forehead. “I don’t want to think I’ve done anything to put you in jeopardy.”

  She settled under his arm. “There’s no need to worry. I’m fine. I’ve never felt stronger. I’ll be like one of those women working in the fields who has a baby and then gets up and starts working.” She wouldn’t tell him yet about the subtle warning signs she was having. Not yet. Harley prayed it was nothing.

  Abisi laughed. “You won’t be having a baby in a field. No, my darling, you’ll have only the best for our little Alexandria.”

  “No, not a girl. I protest.” The phone’s ringing interrupted Harley’s laughing.

  “Don’t get that.” Abisi panted as he lay against her breasts.

  “We hav
e to answer. What if it’s the hospital?” Harley slapped his arm playfully.

  “I’m not fit to help anyone.” He nibbled along her breast and ribcage.

  Harley reached for the phone and put it to her ear. “Hello.” No one replied. “Hello? Is anyone there?” No one replied. With a shrug, Harley hung up.

  “So no one had an emergency.” Abisi settled against her breast.

  “Yeah, I guess it was a wrong number.” Harley stroked his hair as he lay against her breast. She stared at the phone and felt a vague uneasiness enter her being. Her husband slept against her, obviously unperturbed and hearing nothing. Harley didn’t really believe the mysterious call was a wrong number. Kimberly Cheramie was still on the loose. Harley shivered but eventually relaxed as she listened to her husband’s steady breathing. Yes, it was a wrong number, she convinced herself. It had to be.

  Chapter 19

  Abisi worried about Harley. He wanted the child, but he couldn’t lose the woman who’d brought so much happiness to his life. When she was typing at her computer, Abisi would kiss the nape of her neck and gently blow on her fine hair. Abisi knew he undoubtedly was making her somewhat crazy when he insisted she take naps and prop up her feet. Harley jaunted about town as if nothing in her life had changed, but as a doctor, Abisi was aware of the risks his wife faced. Neither of them was in their prime, but Harley would suffer the physical strain of the birth. He would take care of her, but ultimately, she would carry this burden on her own. Sometimes, his fear abandoned him, and he was overwhelmed with tenderness for her and the child that would be theirs. He’d loved Maureen, but she’d lacked Harley’s depth and humor. Although Harley was at times cynical and sharp, he’d seen her change since her pregnancy and their marriage. Much of her cynical edge had disappeared, but he also knew that she brushed off any sign of illness as a sign of weakness.

  One day in mid-November, Abisi phoned home and received no answer. He tried Harley’s cell phone and received her voice mail. “Where in God’s name are you, Harley?” He paced in his office until he had another patient. At lunch, he excused himself and hurried home.

  Abisi pulled up to the curb at the same moment that Harley was entering the driveway in the blue Mustang. She had a bag of groceries in her arms and gave him a puzzled smile. He clasped her arms and studied her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, why?” She looked totally puzzled.

  “You didn’t answer your cell phone.” Abisi tried to soften his tone. He knew his words sounded like an accusation.

  She frowned, thinking, and then said lightly. “Oh, old teaching habit, I guess. I always switched it off when I taught. I still do that without thinking.” She grew serious. “Honey, you need to stop worrying.”

  Abisi sighed heavily. His heart was still pounding in his ears. “Look, we don’t know where Kimberly is. You’re not always feeling well. You can’t be incommunicado like this.” He took the bag from her. “This is heavy. You shouldn’t be lifting these kinds of things.”

  Harley rolled her eyes and laughed lightly. “You’re such a worrier. I’m fine.” She nestled under his arm and grinned. “I am willing to let you do the heavy lifting, though.”

  “I can’t stay upset with you for long.” He slipped an arm around her waist and stared into her eyes. She gazed at him with love, and his heart swelled as he lost himself in those eyes. “I am coming to the doctor with you tomorrow. I want to hear what he has to say.”

  “That’s not necessary.” Harley opened the door. Nico bounded up to them, wagging his tail furiously. Harley leaned down and petted him. “How’s Mama’s boy?” The dog put a paw in her hand.

  Abisi strode into the kitchen, putting the groceries away. “It is necessary, and I want to come.” He turned at the sound of her footfall on the kitchen floor. “I’m concerned that you’ve stopped gaining weight. I’m worried about your headaches and dizziness. You weren’t having these problems in the beginning.”

  Harley winced as if struck and began searching the bag for groceries. She put some cleanser and bottles in a cabinet. Her voice was controlled, but he heard the smoldering anger underneath the calm. “Who told you about that?”

  “Judy’s worried about you.” Abisi grasped her shoulders and turned her to him. “When were you going to tell me?”

  “I was going to tell Dr. Solomon when I see him tomorrow. I wasn’t going to alarm you until I’d spoken to him.” Harley pulled away from him and folded the grocery bag.

  “I love you. If something’s wrong, I want to know about it.” He tore the bag from her hands and tossed it on the ground. He then clasped her shoulders and forced her to face him. The sensation of her skin against his hands warmed his blood.

  “Judy’s a traitor.” She shook her head and sighed. “Look, I didn’t exactly tell her, either.”

  Abisi fought the anger that rose suddenly in the depths of his chest. “No, of course not. You can handle anything, but she found you yesterday morning in bed at noon with a damp towel on your forehead. She said you could barely stand.”

  “Judy says too much.” Harley’s eyes narrowed, but her lips slowly curved into a smile.

  “She’s worried about you. So am I.” His heart pounded. “Harley, you know I wanted this baby, but not if you’re in danger.”

  “I’m tough as a horse. You need to stop worrying about Hrothgar.” Harley arched her eyebrows. Wry amusement covered her face.

  “Hrothgar? You can’t call our child Hrothgar. Besides, Hrothgar is going to be a girl.” He smiled at her and cupped her face in his hands. Her lightheartedness was infectious, but he couldn’t put the vague sensation of dread completely out of his mind.

  After lunch, Harley kissed him goodbye and watched him pull away from the curb. No sooner had Abisi’s car vanished at the corner than Mary Ann’s black van screeched into the driveway. When she emerged from the vehicle, her eyes were red. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Harley winced and turned to go. The woman’s speech was slurred as if she had been drinking. More Saltaformaggio family drama! Harley wondered how in hell had she been drawn into this circle of viciousness. Mary Ann, her slimy husband, and their dysfunctional children made the Gotti clan look like the household immortalized in Leave it to Beaver.

  “Aren’t you going to answer me?” Mary Ann’s shrill voice echoed in the still air. Harley saw Mary, Carville’s grandmother, peek from behind lace curtains.

  Most of Harley’s neighbors were at work, and Harley prayed the scene would cause her a minimum of embarrassment. She strode down the porch steps and came within inches of Mary Ann’s face. The other woman leaned heavily against her car door. Harley shook her head, smiling ruefully at her old classmate. “What do you want?”

  “Why do you have to get everything you want? Everything always works out for you. Did you need to take my husband and now my daughter?” Mary Ann’s shoulders shook with her sobs.

  Harley gaped at her, slack-jawed. She was honestly clueless to the cause of Mary Ann’s distress. “What in hell do you mean?”

  “David always had the hots for you, and now, Melissa prefers you to me.” Her voice was a deadly hiss.

  Harley rolled her eyes. The whole situation was laughable. “Your husband flirts with anyone in a skirt, for Chris’ sakes! He’s after anyone who has a pulse, and he’s been like that since high school. He doesn’t want me, Mary Ann.” Harley laughed softly, shaking her head. “Your daughters are two lost kids. They’re just kids trying to get attention, and neither you nor David ever gave it to them unless making them the focus of your lives provided a means to hurt each other. You’ve become a pathetic family. You want David’s love, and the kids want both of you. To that end, the girls engage in one reckless kind of behavior after another. Mallory got pregnant—”

  “How did you know that?” Mary Ann cast a startled glance
at her.

  “The whole school knew. What happened? She aborted it, didn’t she?” Harley heard the cruelty of her own words and almost bit her tongue, hating herself. She was never cruel, but her old hatred for Mary Ann raced through her bones. She remembered the teenaged Mary Ann and her snooty acquaintances all too well. “Little Melissa can see the situation between you and her father, and the poor kid’s trying to spy and tattle to you so she can actually be noticed by you. Your kids are out of control, and you’re the reason for it.”

  “How dare you?” The woman made for Harley but stumbled, almost falling on Harley before she caught her balance. She tried to stand fully erect but clasped the car door handle as she swayed. She wailed as tears cascaded down her face. “How dare you say my kids are out of control?”

  Mary hobbled onto her front porch. “Are you okay, honey?”

  “Yes, ma’am, everything’s fine.” Harley waved at her. The older woman remained on the porch and sat on her swing. She hummed a spiritual and occasionally looked in their direction.

  Harley met Mary Ann’s gaze, her own eyes narrowed. “Is he really so important that you sacrificed everything, even your pride and your kids, for him?”

  “Don’t you remember what it was to love a real man?” Mary held herself ramrod straight, seemingly recovered. Her lips curved into a malicious smile.

  Harley’s blood raced. She stared at Mary Ann, suddenly no longer regretting her earlier attack. “What in hell do you mean?”

  “Well, I guess you couldn’t get any real man since John, so you had to settle for a rag head murderer.” Mary Ann’s evil grin deepened.

  Harley’s reaction was instinctive. The simmering disgust she’d always harbored for Mary Ann rose from her midsection into her chest and threatened to suffocate her. She raised her hand quickly and smacked Mary Ann across the face. Mary Ann burst into hysterical weeping and doubled over. Harley leaned over her. “Don’t ever mention John’s name or Abisi’s name. You and your filthy husband aren’t worthy to touch their shoes. What has your male slut of a husband ever done for anyone except fill his pockets with the ill-gotten gains he’s received from some poor soul who can’t conceive? Does he make them fuck him to get help? Do your kids have a whole bunch of siblings out there they don’t know about?” Harley turned on her heel and strode up the porch steps.