Mark of the Wiseman (The Wiseman Series Book 1)

by Hightower, R. Caresse

  Eve unwrapped herself from the plethora of blankets. “I think I’ll have some tea.”

  “I’ll get Agnes to make some.”

  “It’s okay.”

  William blocked her way to the door. “Just wait. I can fix this for you. I swear I can fix it.”

  Eve held his hand and gave him a weak smile. “I know you want to, but there are some things that even the great William Wiseman can’t do.”

  William grimaced. “You doubt me.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that one man cannot do everything. This isn’t your problem to fix.”

  “But you want a baby.”

  “We don’t always get what we want, do we? Maybe this is a sign to stop trying.”

  William did not want to hear that. He busied himself with picking up a blanket that had slipped to the floor. “Evie?”

  There was a red stain on the blanket. She saw it and ran into the bathroom.

  “What do you need?” he called through the door.

  “Nothing.”

  “Unlock the door.”

  “No, I just… need a minute.”

  He sat next to the door for fifteen minutes, listening to water run and her rustling around. “Evie?”

  She opened the door. Her eyes were red and puffy. He stood up and held her for a long time.

  “It’s okay,” he chanted over and over. “We’ll be okay.”

  “Do you have to go to work tomorrow?”

  “No,” he said. “I’ll stay here for as long as you need me.”

  She started crying again.

  “Let’s get you to bed.”

  Several hours later, Eve finally fell asleep, exhausted. William stole away to his study down the hall. He didn’t bother to turn on the lamp. Moonlight streamed through the stained glass windows. Mottled hues of blues, greens, and purples spattered the leather furniture and hardwood floor, making the entire room appear to be swimming underwater. William took in all of his achievements. Diplomas, plaques, certificates, and trophies were mounted on the wall or displayed in cases. He stopped at his desk and extracted his Nobel medal from a glass box.

  “Effective gene therapy treatment for blood cancers,” he said to its embossed face. That’s how it was described all around the world. “The great William Wiseman,” he let the medal slip back into the box, “can’t even figure out how to help his own wife have a baby.”

  He was being swallowed whole in the chasm between his professional and personal lives and desperately wanted to reconcile them. William scowled and shoved his hands in his pockets. He felt the soft material between his fingers and extracted the forgotten crescent moon. There had to be a way.

  He would not—could not—fail Eve.

  CHAPTER TWO

  William stopped by Dr. Chang’s office and heard him arguing with someone.

  “I know what I said, but I need them earlier than that… Dammit, Klahan, how am I supposed to do that? I have to be somewhere else that day. You have to get them to me earlier, okay?”

  William knocked.

  Dr. Chang lowered his voice. “Look, I don’t have time for this. Just get it done.” He opened the door, sliding his cell phone into his pocket.

  “Bad time?” William asked.

  “Not at all. Come in.” Dr. Chang smiled stiffly. He kept his office lights dim and had the blinds replaced with curtains.

  “Good grief, Fai. Why do you always keep it like a cave in here?”

  “Ambiance, I suppose. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

  “Eve is sleeping, so I figured I’d come in for a few hours. I need to catch up on the last few days.” William strode to the window and pulled the curtain back. Heavy, grey clouds hovered over the campus. “It looks like it could snow.”

  “Maybe.”

  William let the curtain close and turned to Dr. Chang. “Did you see that Penelope Patton was out of prison?”

  “Yeah. It was on the news last week.”

  William nodded. “I’m thinking that she might be able to help me.”

  “Help you do… what?”

  “Help Eve have a baby.”

  “How?”

  “Do you remember that proposal she wrote in the late 90s that got rejected? The ectogenesis one?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “I want to try it.”

  “Ectogenesis?”

  “Yes.”

  Dr. Chang’s razor-sharp shoulders shook as he laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m dead serious.”

  “You know it’s illegal, right?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  Dr. Chang raised an eyebrow. “Will we now?”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Yes?” Dr. Chang said.

  Sterling Austin from the IT department walked in with a clipboard and nodded at William. “Hey, Dr. Wiseman.”

  “Good morning, Sterling.”

  Sterling turned his attention to Dr. Chang. “I’m here to follow up on my annual equipment inventory.” He looked at his clipboard. “I’m still missing a workstation from your office.”

  “I told you to check surplus.”

  Sterling nodded. “I did. It wasn’t there. It should have a barcode on it.” Sterling gave a cursory look around the office. “According to my records, it should be in here. Did you take it home?”

  Dr. Chang frowned. “Are you asking me if I stole it?”

  “No, I just have to account for all the equipment. Some people like to work from home. It’s fine if the workstation is at your house. I just need to know it’s there and that you can produce it if we ask for it, that’s all.”

  “I told you I don’t know where it is.”

  Sterling adjusted his glasses. “Okay. I’ll keep looking for it. My notes might be outdated.”

  Sterling took his leave quickly.

  “What was that about?” William asked.

  “That guy is getting on my nerves. He doesn’t have anything better to do than harass me about a computer no one cares about.”

  “Do you know where it is?”

  “Of course not. If Sterling had half a brain, he’d figure out that his reconciliation sheet is at fault, not me.”

  “Okay, well, I’m going to need your help with Penelope. I need you to be my co-investigator.”

  “Sure, I can use more publications.”

  “There won’t be any publication,” William said. “This will be strictly under the radar.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean ‘why’? You just said bringing a baby to term this way was illegal. Why in the world would we tell people?”

  “We don’t have to tell them everything.”

  William sighed. “No publication.”

  Dr. Chang made a hesitant gesture of surrender.

  “I’m going to work with Penelope, if she agrees to develop an apparatus. Can I ask you to obtain the test embryos? I’ve been thinking about this and some couples who’ve already had successful births may be willing to donate their extras, especially since the storage fee is so hefty.”

  “I’ll get it done.”

  William felt uneasy at the grin Dr. Chang gave him. “We’re good, right? Strictly under the radar?”

  “Of course. Strictly under the radar.”

  “I need an artificial uterus.”

  Penelope Patton stared at William. “Excuse me?”

  William was standing on the front porch holding an umbrella in a frigid, torrential rain. He’d spent the whole day first tracking down her telephone number, then practicing what to say to her. He’d called to ask if he could pay a visit, but hadn’t told her why. He’d meant to lead with “Hello, Penelope. You are looking well. How are you?” but…

  “I need an artificial uterus,” he repeated.

  She opened the door wider and gestured him inside. He discarded his dripping trench coat and umbrella on the coat rack in the foyer and followed her into the sittin
g room. It was a large room crowded with reupholstered antique furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows that gave them a full view of the brown, dormant garden out back.

  “Are we alone?” William asked.

  “Yes.” She went to the bar and poured a drink. She waggled the bottle of brandy at him.

  “It’s eleven in the morning.”

  “I figure I’m going to need this to get through the conversation I believe you and I are about to have. Would you like tea or coffee instead?” she asked.

  “No, thank you.”

  Penelope sat across from him and crossed her legs. She was as poised as ever in a pastel green cardigan and cream slacks. Her Armenian heritage showed in her features. Her dark hair had been cut short since the last time William had seen her and it complemented her deep olive skin. To look at her, it was as if nothing had changed, although plenty had.

  Her much publicized gambling addiction had rendered her bankrupt. Her husband had filed for divorce shortly after she entered prison and her parents had publicly disowned her.

  “What did you expect?” Penelope asked. “Cornrows and a homemade tattoo on my neck?”

  William realized he was staring. “Sorry, I… it’s just strange that…”

  She waved the glass at him. “Never mind. You don’t need to explain. I’m fresh out and no one knows what to say to me. Save yourself the trouble.”

  “How are you?”

  “Well, most of my family isn’t speaking to me, except for my sister, and I can already tell she’s uncomfortable with me staying here. No one wants to hire a gambling gynecologist, and I can’t leave the house without getting dirty looks. I’ve been better, William.”

  Okay, that was a stupid thing to ask. “I’m glad you’re out.”

  “I’m glad you’re glad, but you didn’t come here to celebrate my homecoming, did you?”

  William shook his head.

  “What’s this business about an artificial uterus?”

  “Fai Chang and I have recently been talking about a new area of study.”

  “You still work with Fai?”

  “Yes. Why’d you say it like that?”

  “No reason.” She sipped her brandy. “Go ahead.”

  “I was hoping to contract you to build an apparatus, something capable of sustaining life from conception.”

  She smiled knowingly. “You remember my ectogenesis proposal.”

  “I do.”

  “What grant is this for?”

  “It’s industry.”

  “Trust me, I don’t want to discourage you, but when the Office of Research sees my name on the contract, there may be a problem.”

  William looked outside. The force of the rain was splashing the mud from the flowerbeds up onto the glass. “Biltmore will be alright with it.”

  She put her glass on a small, marble-topped table beside her. “Is that so?”

  William looked up into her eyes. “I need this, Penelope.”

  “There are plenty of talented graduate students who could build something for you. I wonder why you’re asking me.”

  “They’re just kids. You have actual experience. In your proposal, you said you’d seen a uterine tank in Tokyo.”

  “I did.” She rested her elbow on her knee. “What grant did you say this was for?”

  “It’s just industry.”

  “But which one? What’s it called?”

  William searched her gaze, silently pleading for her not to delve any deeper. She laughed derisively and snatched up her glass. At the bar, she slammed it down and sloshed more brandy inside.

  “You know what really pisses me off?” she asked. “The fact you, my colleague and supposed acquaintance, are trying to get me to do a favor and you don’t even trust me enough to tell me what it is. What? Did Dean Waters say you could contract me, but you couldn’t tell me the details?”

  “No.”

  “Just go ahead and tell me. You’ll let me do the work as long as my name isn’t affiliated with the institution. Is that it?”

  “It’s not like that.” William walked over to the bar, lowering his voice unnecessarily. “Dean Waters doesn’t know about this.”

  Penelope was quiet for a moment. “Is this for a research project, William?”

  “Can you do this for me?”

  “Will you be using embryos?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind?”

  He held out his hands and she nodded imperceptibly.

  “Of course.” She walked back to her seat slowly. “Why?”

  “It’s personal.”

  “Where are you going to get test embryos?”

  “We have a couple ideas.”

  “So it’s just you and Fai?”

  “And hopefully, you. Of course, you’ll be compensated,” William quickly added.

  “How much?”

  “More than enough to get you out of your sister’s house. Enough to restart your life.”

  William gave her several moments to contemplate, while he concentrated on the rivulets of ice-cold water streaming down the windows. He wondered what alternative he’d have if she declined. She was the only one he knew personally who could do this. It was possible, maybe, to recruit someone else, but who? And at what cost?

  Unfortunately and fortunately, depending on the perspective, Penelope wasn’t in the greatest position to turn down money right now. William hoped that would sway her to cooperate.

  “We’d really be helping each other,” he said, “and you already know we work well together.”

  “I can’t… go back there,” she said. “It’s so loud.”

  “What’s so loud?”

  “Prison. Nonstop shouting and screaming and arguing. It’s like a gong constantly going off in your head.”

  “No one will ever find out about this,” William said. “I, too, would be at risk.”

  “Why do you want this so badly? Don’t you have enough accolades?”

  “Yes, but what I don’t have, Penelope, is a child.”

  She looked at him sharply. “Eve?”

  William clenched his teeth. “Non-specified infertility. Both of us check out fine.”

  “There are options.”

  “There’s this.”

  “Women who want children will take just about any child, blood-related or not. I’ve seen it dozens of times. Call an adoption agency.”

  William’s voice rose in frustration. “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that, Penelope? I’m asking you for this because I’m running out of options, okay?”

  She shook her head and looked away. “No. I can’t do it.”

  “You can’t? Or you won’t?”

  “You don’t know what it’s like, William. Going back to court? To prison?” She put her fingertips against her temples. “I just can’t risk it, especially when you—or Eve—refuse to take advantage of other opportunities like every other infertile couple. I’m sorry.”

  “We’re down to four embryos sitting in a cryobank right now. What am I supposed to tell Eve? ‘Let’s just flush ‘em and take someone else’s baby’?”

  “God, William. Get a surrogate. Doesn’t Eve have a sister?”

  “You can’t control what someone does while she’s pregnant. She doesn’t want someone else carrying our baby.”

  “It doesn’t really look like she’s in a position to be picky, does it?”

  “Why are you so ethical all of a sudden, Penelope? I mean, seriously, why do you care? You didn’t seem so concerned when you were stealing all that money from Goode Planet.”

  She looked away and the room fell silent. William swore under his breath. The last thing he meant to do was antagonize her. He was asking for her help and now he’d insulted her. His hypersensitivity on the subject of his wife had a reach far beyond his self-control.

  “Penelope… I didn’t mean that.”

  “Bruce and I were in the process of adopting before everything happened. You didn’t know that, did you?” She rubbed
her arms as if she were cold. “We had a fifty-fifty chance after my myomectomy, but we never could conceive.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s just not meant for everyone to have children. You and Eve have a lot going for you. Maybe you should just concentrate on that instead. It’s safer, for everyone, that way.”

  William nodded. “I understand. I should probably get going.”

  She walked with him to the front door. “Hey.”

  William turned just as he was opening his umbrella.

  “Thanks for coming by,” she said. “Besides my P.O., you’re the first person to come see me.”

  Her weak smile made William feel sorry for her, and for himself.

  CHAPTER THREE

  William waded through hedges of shopping bags in his bedroom. “Um, Eve?”

  Her voice floated out of her walk-in closet. “Yes, sweetie?”

  “What’s all this?”

  “After lunch, Kenya and I went shopping.”

  “Did you leave any merchandise in the store?”

  Eve laughed. Agnes emerged from the closet and started folding and hanging the new garments.

  William picked up a bag. “What’s White House Black Market?”

  “Oh!” Eve said. “I got the cutest dress from there. It’s perfect for your faculty holiday dinner.”

  He did a full pivot and took in the vast collection of bags. “How much did you spend?”

  Eve laughed in the closet. “Oh, Will.”

  Agnes dropped her chin and looked at him pointedly. “That answer your question?”

  William lowered his voice and sidled up to Agnes. “What is going on here?”

  She looked incredulous. “She’s slipping off the deep end. That’s what.”

  “What do you mean ‘slipping off the deep end’?”

  “She is driving me insane. I can barely get my work done during the day because she’s dragging me here or there.”

  “She’s immersing herself into life after the miscarriage. It’s good for her.”

  “She made me pose for a drawing last weekend after she read a blog about art. Mrs. Wiseman is a smart woman, but artist, she is not.” Agnes wagged her finger at him. “Don’t tell her I said this, but it looked like one of those Picasso things and I don’t think that’s what she was going for. If you want to call that immersing, go ahead.”