by Rebeca Seitz
“Thanks, Dr. Goodman.” Scott stands and holds out his hand.
“My pleasure, Scott.” Dr. Goodman shakes the proffered hand. “I know this wasn’t easy to hear, but trust me that it could have been much worse.”
Scott just nods and I shoot a thankful look to Dr. Goodman as I follow my husband out the office door.
* * *
“SO, WE’VE GOT sun, sand, food, towels, wedding magazines, a pen, and a notebook. I’d say it’s time we talked wedding plans.”
Kendra stretched out along her newly purchased lounge chair and enjoyed the warm sun on her back. “Sounds good to me. So far, I’ve picked out music and colors. What’s left?”
“Kendra, tell me you’re kidding.”
“I’ve got months and months to plan, T. Why rush?”
“Did you pay no attention during my wedding planning? Have you forgotten how long it takes to decide on cake flavors and decorations and arrangement of tiers and bridesmaid dresses and tux styles? And don’t even get me started on the thousands of flower choices you’ve got to wade through.”
“I was thinking about keeping it simple.”
“Oh, please. Kendra Sinclair and simple go together like snowflakes and this beach. You’re only saying that because you don’t want to put the work in to have a bigger wedding.”
Kendra opened one eye and looked over at Tandy. “Guilty. Does that make me awful?”
“Not wanting to devote a ton of hours to your wedding day? No, I wouldn’t say it makes you awful, exactly.”
“It’s not that I don’t love Darin with all my heart, and I definitely want us to have a dreamy day. But I get depressed when I look at those organizing books and see the thousands of little boxes that need to be checked off. I get overwhelmed and just put the thing down. I’d hire a wedding coordinator, but I’d rather spend that money on flowers or cake or food for the reception.”
“It makes sense that you’d hate the planning books. That’s too much forethought for you.”
Kendra laughed. “Hey, I resemble that remark.”
“I can’t believe you bought a planning book in the first place. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking a woman’s wedding day is the biggest day of her life and I didn’t want to walk down the aisle to Jimmy Buffet music and find Darin at the altar in khaki pants and a loud Hawaiian shirt and then reach up to find a lei around my neck and hibiscus blossoms in my hair.”
“Lack of planning leads to a bad Hawaiian wedding?”
Kendra picked at the sand. “Evidently.”
“You get that you’re a nut case?”
“Yeah, but a lovable nut case, right?”
“Darin sure seems to think so.”
“Isn’t he the greatest?”
“I happen to think Clay is the greatest, but Darin is a close second.”
“Ah, the blinding power of love.”
“Back at you, babe.”
“What do you think about a black-and-white wedding?”
“I think it’ll look like your apartment did before you met Darin. Don’t you think you need tons of color? Kind of like the color Darin brought into your life?”
“That’s a great idea! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because when you’re freaked out, you pull color out of everything and try to make sense of it.”
“Thank you, Dr. Freud.”
“Anytime. So, colors? What about red?”
“I like red. I look good in red. You, Meg, and Joy all look good in red.”
“And red’s the color of love.”
“But the carpet in the sanctuary is blue. We’ll end up with a patriotic wedding.”
“It won’t be blue by the time you get married. They’re replacing it with gray this summer.”
“Seriously? Who says?”
“Daddy. He told me about it a couple of weeks ago.”
“Gray, white, and red. I really, really like that. The gray and white is my life without Darin. The red is my life with him. I love the symbolism.”
“The artist loves symbolism. Go figure.”
Kendra smiled, envisioning the wedding of her dreams that had begun to take shape now that Tandy freed her from the tyranny of the organizing book.
They sat for a bit and listened to the gentle lapping of waves. A seagull screamed its delight over finding dinner. Snatches of chatter came to them on the breeze.
“I owe Zelda a thank you for interjecting a beach trip into my wedding planning.”
“Speaking of Zelda, why do you think she won’t come back to Stars Hill?”
“I thought we told her we wouldn’t try to figure her out anymore.”
“We did.”
“Isn’t that what we’re sitting here doing?”
“Sort of. Think of it more along the lines of trying to help Daddy out.”
“Situational ethics were never your thing.”
Tandy sighed. “They’re still not. I just don’t like not knowing people’s reasons for their actions. Doesn’t it bug you?”
“A little. But Zelda’s right. It’s between her and Daddy now.”
“You’re probably right. I know you’re right. I’m bugged though.”
Beach sounds swept over them again and Kendra rolled over on her lounger to feel the breeze across her face. “Should we call Daddy and tell him how it went? We said we’d keep him informed, remember.”
Tandy snapped her fingers. “That’s a great idea. Let me find my phone.” She rummaged around in their brand new beach bag bearing the name Sandy Shore Motel in pink letters. “Daddy can tell us what to do next.”
“That’s not what I said.”
But Tandy was motioning her to silence as she dialed and held the phone to her ear. “Daddy? It’s Tandy.”
Kendra nestled further into her lounger and listened as Tandy gave Daddy a rundown of their previous day’s activities.
A red wedding. That would be beautiful, if she did it right. Red roses were too cliché for her and Darin, but red Gerbera daises would be playful enough to reflect them. Could she get daisies in the fall? When did daisies come into season?
By the time Tandy flipped her phone closed, Kendra had added edelweiss—Momma’s favorite—to the mix. They would be beautiful bouquets.
“Daddy has no idea why Zelda won’t come home with us.”
“Seriously?”
“That’s what he said. I had to tell him over and over again everything she said to us, as much as I could remember anyway. And he said either she didn’t really forgive us or there’s something we can’t put our finger on.”
“Daddy can be so obtuse sometimes.”
“About what? Zelda’s being difficult.”
“No, she’s not, T. I think I figured it out while you were on the phone.”
“Do tell.”
“Well, I’m sitting here picturing my wedding day and thinking about how I want everything to be a reflection of this grand romance Darin and I have shared. Why wouldn’t Zelda want the same thing?”
“Zelda can have the same thing, Ken. But she’s got to go back to Stars Hill and get the ring before she can plan a wedding.”
“I’m not talking about the wedding. I’m talking about the grand romance.”
“I think I got left back at ‘I’m sitting here picturing my wedding day.’”
Kendra sat up and met Tandy’s gaze. “Where’s Zelda’s grand romance?”
“Eww.” Tandy scrunched her nose and shook her head. “I am not thinking about Daddy in those terms.”
“Stop being a baby and listen for a minute. Zelda is a woman, like us. She wants to be courted and romanced and, I don’t know … wooed.”
“Wooed? Did we transport back to 1950?”
“You know what I mean. You said it yourself. We came down here to apologize because we needed to make a grand gesture that emphasized our apology.”
“But Daddy didn’t do anything wrong.”
“She said it wasn’t what
he had done but what he hadn’t done.”
Kendra let Tandy think for a minute.
“Wait, you think Daddy hasn’t romanced her?”
“I think Daddy didn’t come running after her when she went to Florida.”
“Why would he? He knew we were coming.”
“Yeah, but we’re not the ones she’s in love with. We’re not the ones she wants to be romanced by.”
Tandy chewed her lip, then nodded. “I get what you’re saying. She wants the fairy tale where Daddy comes down here and tells her he can’t live without her, that she just has to come back to Stars Hill or his life will never be the same.”
Kendra lay back. She knew Tandy would catch on. “Exactly.”
“Then let me call Daddy back and tell him.”
“Don’t you think we should let him get there on his own?”
“He’s male, Ken. We’d be waiting until this sand became glass.”
“Point well-taken. Dial away.”
Fifteen
Dr. Murray’s office isn’t cold. I wonder if that means they are growing more germs in this office or they simply see patients with bigger problems than germs. Judging by the look on Scott’s face, I’d guess the latter.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Lasky.” Dr. Murray’s voice is smooth, sort of like John Tesh. “Dr. Goodman has shared with me your medical history and the problem we are facing today.”
Scott shifts in his seat, and I know that he doesn’t like Dr. Murray’s use of the word problem with regard to him.
“Scott, I’ll need to run through some questions with you to determine if any of the usual causes are present in your lifestyle.”
Scott nods his head once. I begin to plan dinner, knowing about three courses will return him to a relaxed and happy state.
Dr. Murray begins to question Scott on his use of nicotine, alcohol, and drugs. I try to concentrate, but I’m so happy that we’ve finally found the problem, I’m having a hard time shifting into solution mode.
“… draw blood to test your hormones and, depending on the results we get, schedule an ultrasound to ensure no blockages in your system.”
“You’re telling me my hormones could be wreaking havoc on my ability to get her pregnant?”
Dr. Murray’s smile is understanding. “I know—women are supposed to have the hormone problems, right?”
I briefly consider being offended, but Scott’s grip on my hand has lessened and there’s a smile creeping across his face. If Dr. Murray’s jokes about female hormones help my husband get through this, then I can crack a smile as well. Besides, Dr. Murray knows better than I how to get men through this since he works with them all day.
“Anyway, that’s our first round of activity, so unless either of you has questions, I’ll direct you to an exam room and we’ll get started sucking your blood.”
I withhold my cringe, barely. The rigid line of Scott’s shoulders has released back to the easygoing stature of a man confidently going into the world. Dr. Murray must know his stuff.
We enter an exam room that looks more like someone’s foyer than a sterile facility. Hunting pictures grace the walls, and a leather club chair sits in the corner. I look around but can find no hospital bed or bed of any sort in this small room.
“This is an exam room?”
Scott sits in the chair and motions me to its cousin in the other corner. “Looks like it.”
“I’m definitely having a chat with Dr. Goodman about his décor, then. You men have it much better than women when it comes to the sex doctor.”
“I cannot believe you just said sex in a public place.”
Scott is laughing at me, and I’m so happy he’s still smiling that I don’t care. “We’re in an andrologist’s office. I think they probably say sex quite a bit here.”
“Yes, but they didn’t say it. You did. Something on your mind, Mrs. Lasky?”
Honestly, do men ever stop thinking about that? Here we are, learning about what’s stopping us from getting pregnant, and my husband is using innuendo while sitting in an exam room. Not that it looks like an exam room, but the principle remains the same.
“I only said it because it’s the type of doctor he is, and you know it.”
Scott pats the firm arm of his chair. “Mm-hmm. Come sit here and tell me all about it.”
Thank goodness the nurse comes in right about then. I’m not certain how I’d have gotten his mind onto something more appropriate to discuss in a doctor’s office. The sight of the nurse’s needle though took that problem right out of my hands. Her gray and brown hair was piled high on her head in a series of curls, the effect of which made one wonder how her hair exploded in such symmetry.
“Hi, Mr. Lasky. I’m Marinda. Dr. Murray says we need to get some blood from you today, so if you’ll roll up your sleeve, I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible.”
I turn my head while the curly-haired Marinda performs her task, positive I do not wish to see my husband’s blood filling those vials on her metal tray. I occupy my mind by attempting to determine how she keeps all that hair from falling down around her ears.
“There we go.”
It doesn’t seem as if enough time has passed for her to have four full glass tubes of blood, but then again hair issues have always been able to occupy me. Good thing since I spend my day working with hair.
“Marinda, do you know when we’ll have results or what our next step is?” Scott’s rolling his sleeve back down and buttoning the cuff.
“We have our own lab here in the office, so we’ll probably call you tomorrow with the results.”
“Wow, you guys move fast.”
“Well, Dr. Murray knows by the time a patient gets to us, he’s probably just about worn out his ability to wait anymore. So we’ve got pretty much everything we need right here to diagnose and treat quickly.”
“Speaking of treatment, we didn’t get to that with Dr. Murray. Can you let us know what we’re facing here?”
Marinda holds up the vials. “Not until we see what’s inside these. I know it’s hard to wait, but give us a day and we’ll have a plan of action for you.”
Scott nods and I send up a prayer of thanks for a doctor’s office that doesn’t take weeks to see a patient, much less diagnose him.
We say our good-byes to Marinda and leave the office.
“I’d say today’s been a productive day thus far, wouldn’t you?”
Scott takes my hand in his. “That it has. By this time tomorrow, we’ll know what we’re up against.”
I love that he’s using we, acknowledging that we’re in this together. “I love you, Scott Lasky.”
He squeezes my hand, then pushes the button for the elevator. “How about we see a movie and have dinner before heading back home?”
“We haven’t seen a movie in ages. Is there something you wanted to see?”
“Not really. I just thought it’d be nice to spend some time in a darkened theater with my wife.”
“Scott, we’re entirely too old to do what you’re thinking about doing.”
“And definitely too refined.”
“Precisely.”
“Though I’m intrigued that you think you know what I’m thinking.”
The elevator arrives and we fall silent as we step into the crowded chamber. Scott’s grin telegraphs to anyone interested in looking what we were talking about though. I wait until we’re in the parking garage before picking up the conversation again.
“Are you saying you’re not interested in engaging in public displays of affection after paying an exorbitant sum to enter a darkened room with a floor covered in a sticky film of soda residue and popcorn from the last hundred people who paid that same exorbitant sum to sit in that same room and, at least for the few sitting in the back row, ignore the entertainment being afforded on the screen to better entertain themselves?”
“You’re right. We should take a movie home.”
“But the television in our bedroom has the
biggest screen, and it’s only four o’clock.”
“Didn’t you hear Dr. Goodman and Dr. Murray? I’m a weakened man who must have rest.” He lays a hand across his chest and adopts a Scarlett O’Hara look of desperation. “I must have rest, I say, rest.”
“Going to bed with me at four o’clock in the afternoon is not rest.”
“No, rest is what I’ll be doing by six.”
It would be easier if the man didn’t have such amazing powers of persuasion.
* * *
A FEW HOURS later, I find the remote control and turn off a screen that has long since gone to blue. An Affair to Remember makes for a better movie when you write your own ending.
I stretch, careful not to wake the sleeping bear beside me, and roll out of bed. A rumble in my tummy reminds me we didn’t have dinner before our movie. I’m almost certain there are cold cuts in the refrigerator downstairs. I could whip up a ham and Swiss, press it in the griddle, and call it a panini in about fifteen minutes.
The house is silent as I make my way down the long staircase to the main floor. If Dr. Murray is able to help us, it won’t be silent too much longer. Perhaps this time next year I could be hearing that sweet small cry of a newborn.
I almost can’t fathom it.
The phone rings just before my feet touch the floor of the kitchen. I hurry across its cold surface before the sound can wake Scott.
“Lasky residence.”
“Joy? Is that you?”
“Of course it’s me, Tandy. Who else would it be?”
“I don’t know, but you sound kind of, I don’t know, sleepy or something.”
“That would be because I just woke up.”
“But it’s early evening. How are you just now getting up?”
“You mean to tell me you and Clay are only active at night?”
“Eww! Yuck! I do not need that mental image of you, sister.”
I laugh at her mock outrage. “You asked.”
“Next time just tell me I don’t need to know.”
“I’ll remember your wishes.”
“Since we’re already discussing it though, what did the doctor have to say?”
I fill her in on all we’ve learned today.