“It’s all good news, Kate, and good news stimulates my appetite, all my appetites. I’m very hungry this morning,” she said, and started to make some scrambled eggs. “How about you? Got to keep up your strength and health, you know.”
“I’ll have a little,” I said.
“So everything is on schedule then?” she asked as she broke some eggs into a mixing bowl. “She’ll be here in six days?”
“Yes.”
She nodded and then turned to smile at me.
“I’m not handing out cigars. That’s where I draw the line,” she said, and finally, we both laughed.
After breakfast, we rode together to the plant. The warehouse was about two miles from downtown Palm Springs, out toward the airport. The deliveryman could get onto the 10 Freeway rather quickly and service communities from Cathedral City to Indio.
After we arrived, I tried to lose myself in the work as much as Willy did. I was never as intense about it as she was, but today, I wanted to be. I wanted to share in her excitement and enthusiasm. After all, this business was our first creation, truly the first offspring of our union.
During the day, we picked up another account. We had a sizeable client list as it was, but suddenly it seemed we were being discovered by a whole new area of our desert community. I wouldn’t dare use the word straight, but I thought it. None of these new clients had any ties to the gay community.
“This is an amazing coincidence,” Willy said, coming into the office where I was working on our accounts. She hated any form of bookkeeping and I was much better with our business software on the computer than she was or even cared to be. We had state-of-the-art-computer equipment, broadband service, copy machines, fax, everything we could possible need or want. I kept it all very neat and organized, too. I could retrieve a document in seconds, if need be. The only thing Willy knew about in our office was it housed the coffee machine.
“What is?”
“This morning I was talking about the need to hire an additional employee and I just received a call on my cell phone from Dr. Matthews asking if we had any need for another chef. She has a cousin who just lost her job in Anaheim and wants to move to the desert. She was working as the morning head chef in a restaurant that went belly-up and she’s tired of moving from one restaurant to another. Lois mentioned us to her and she was very interested. She sounds like a perfect candidate. She attended a prestigious culinary arts school in San Francisco after attending a two-year business college. She’s an unattached twenty-eight-year-old. I told her to tell her to come in for an interview. If she’s acceptable, she might even be able to take over some of your bookkeeping duties toward the final stages of your pregnancy and after. Her name is Eve Stoner.”
“Why didn’t she call the office?”
“What?”
“Dr. Matthews. Why didn’t she call the office? Why did she call you on your cell phone? And how did she get that number?”
Willy shook her head, poured herself a cup of coffee and flopped into a chair.
“I don’t know, Kate,” she said. “I think we really should think twice about all this. You might not have the temperament for it.”
“Oh, bullshit, Willy. Don’t start again. Those are legitimate questions.”
“First, I left my cell phone number with her answering service the first time I called her. She knows we’re at work so she wouldn’t call the house and I didn’t give her the work number. The cellular was probably just the most convenient number for her to call. Second, she probably didn’t want to bother you with business calls, and now, because she was being considerate, you pull the cord on your paranoia engine and start it purring away.”
She sipped her coffee and looked at me. I did feel stupid coming at her like that. What she said made sense.
“Okay, okay,” I said. “You’re right.”
“Something’s eating at you, Kate. It’s not just nerves bickering around this home insemination event either, right?”
I shook my head and looked at the computer monitor.
“Since when don’t we tell each other what we’re really thinking, Kate?”
I turned back to her. She was right again. Why was I acting like this?
“I think Dr. Matthews really is coming on to you,” I said. “It’s not just a flirtation.”
She smiled.
“So do I.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, so what?”
She leaned forward, her face a map of anger, the lines around her mouth deepening, her eyes blazing.
“So what?”
“Yes, so what? You think she’s the first one out there to come on to me while we’ve been together? You already pointed out Janet the other day. I’m not being immodest here. It happens once in a while, but I’ve done nothing to encourage anyone, including Dr. Matthews. I would think you would have a little more faith and confidence in me and in our relationship,” she said.
She sat back, now looking sincerely wounded.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to lose you now or after we start building a family together.”
“And I’m telling you that you have nothing to worry about on that score. Can we put an end to it or what? I’ll write it in blood.”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” I said.
“I want you to remember something, Kate. Every time you have the slightest doubt here involving Dr. Matthews or anyone attached to her or this, what should I call it, adventure? Every time, remember you were the one who started it. I’m on board and with you all the way, but you’re the one who came up with the idea.”
“You make it sound like we’re headed for a disaster and you want to cover your rear in case of blame.”
“There’s no disaster unless we bring it on ourselves,” Willy said.
“Since when did you get so wise?”
“Well, I can’t remember the exact date, but two weeks ago, I woke up…”
“Shut up, you idiot.”
“That’s better. Now I feel more at home,” she said, standing. “I’ll handle the interview if you like.”
“No, it’s okay. I’d like to meet her, too. She does sound perfect, too perfect, especially because of the timing.”
“Sometimes, we just get lucky, Kate. People do win lotteries.”
I nodded and turned back to the monitor. She came over and put her arms around me, burying her face in my hair.
“You smell good,” she said. “I should pull the shades and lock the door and have a matinee.”
I turned and we kissed. Then she drew back.
“What happened to the matinee?”
“I’ve got to oversee the packaging of our horse’s ovaries for the Hamilton party tonight.”
“You better not let them hear you call their hors d’oeuvres ovaries, horse’s or otherwise,” I warned. “You know how finicky those two are.”
“Worry not,” she said, walking to the door. “Or worry only about your own ovaries,” she added laughing.
“Get out of here,” I said and tossed some crumpled paper at her.
I hated myself for the things I had said to her and vowed to swallow back any and all jealous thoughts. Of course, I knew that was easier said than done, but I was determined not to be obvious about it.
Later that afternoon, I went to the Genitor Web site and saw the links to Dr. Aaron. I read her professional history and then some of the testimonies. They made her sound like God’s gift to pregnant women. I made the decision to use her as my OB/GYN and I called her office to see about it.
“Oh yes, dear,” her receptionist said the moment I gave her my name. “I was hoping you would call the doctor and ask her to be your OB/GYN.”
“How do you know that’s what I’m calling to ask?”
“Oh, it’s usually the case. She delivered my child, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know.”
How would I know she had a child or was even married? I couldn’t imagine her with anyone or with a child.
“Well, she did and thank heaven, too. I had a few complications, but for Dr. Aaron, they were nothing. One moment. I see the doctor is free now,” she said, and connected me with Dr. Aaron.
“I’d be delighted to assist you, Kate,” she said when she heard the reason for my call.
“Assist?”
She laughed.
“Yes, that’s the way I see an OB/GYN’s role when it comes to pregnancy and delivery. Nature is really in command. We just listen to Her orders and follow them obediently. You do most of the work here. I would expect you to have a pretty routine pregnancy. Piece of cake,” she added.
“Thank you. I’ll call you after I go through the procedure. I understand it could take a number of attempts.”
“I have no doubt it will happen and the first time,” she said confidently, so confidently that it gave me pause. What was really her experience with this process? The way her receptionist had leaped to conclusions still irked me.
“How many of Dr. Matthews’s clients do you have as patients, if I may ask?”
“Sure you can. I’m not ashamed of it,” she said, laughing. “As I understand it, Kate, I have most of them.”
“Really?”
“Adding you to the list, I might actually have them all,” she said.
Why such a vote of confidence in her should disturb me, I did not know, but her answer took me by surprise.
“All?”
She laughed.
“See you soon in the capacity as your OB/GYN,” she said.
I still couldn’t understand how could she be so sure about that. From what I had read on the Internet and in magazine articles, and from what Dr. Matthews had told us about the percentages of success using frozen sperm, I knew such certainty was anything but usual. When I described the conversation to Willy later, she just shrugged.
“I’m sure she’s doing what she can to build your confidence, Kate. It’s what a good doctor should do, don’t you think?”
“I suppose.”
“Still looking for spiderwebs in every corner?”
“No.”
“Good.” She checked her watch. “Surprise of surprises. Our new candidate is due to arrive here in ten minutes.”
“So soon?”
“She drove up in anticipation she could see us this afternoon. She was able to change some things and wondered if she could pop in. That shows good enthusiasm. There’s a lull so I thought it would actually be better, but if you’d rather skip it and put her off until…”
“I said I’m aboard. Why put her off if she went to the trouble of driving here?”
“Okay. I’ll bring her in. I’m sure you and she will talk about our business software anyway. As you know, it’s Greek to me.”
A little more than a half hour later, I heard laughter and looked out the office window to see Willy with a young woman dressed in jeans and a white tank top. She had short, dark brown hair, but not as short as Willy’s hair. As she drew closer, I saw she was quite dumpy with a small bosom and wide hips. However, she had a sweet, almost childish face with big eyes and a smile that seemed to ripple around her jaws and engulf her features like a mask.
Willy opened the office door and had her step in first.
“Kate, this is Eve Stoner. Eve, my partner, Kate.”
“Hi,” she said extending her hand. It was small with stubby fingers.
“Hi,” I said shaking her hand.
There was something oddly familiar about her.
“I love your setup here,” she said. “Impressive office, too,” she added, nodding at everything as she panned the room.
I guess I was staring and thinking too hard. Willy gave me a look.
“Kate?”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “Please, have a seat.” I nodded at the chair across from me and she sat.
She saw how I was staring at her.
“Sorry,” I said, “but for a moment you reminded me of someone.”
I looked up at Willy, who squinted and pressed the lines of her forehead into a fold of confusion.
“Perhaps it’s someone you just met,” Eve suggested, and then laughed.
“Oh? And who would that be?” I asked.
“Probably Dr. Aaron’s receptionist,” she said. “She’s my older sister.”
7.
ALTHOUGH HEARING THIS DISTURBED ME, I certainly couldn’t complain about Eve Stoner’s credentials. She was not only familiar with the foods we prepared, but knew some interesting variations on our recipes. When I questioned her about our business software and her experience with bookkeeping procedures, I arrived at the same conclusion. She knew everything I did and made a suggestion that would streamline some of my work. Willy sat back during most of this with a look of self-satisfaction on her face as if she had personally brought this candidate to our company.
“Well?” Willy asked as soon as the interview was finished. Eve had left and we told her we would call her. She was going to hang out in Palm Springs for another day or two. Willy had her cell phone number.
“Did you know she was Dr. Aaron’s receptionist’s sister?”
“No. How would I know that? What difference does it make anyway?”
“Difference? That means the receptionist is Dr. Matthews’s cousin, too.”
“Yes, and soooooo?”
“Nobody mentioned any of that.”
“Kate, why should they? What are you getting at here? Is this girl perfect or what?”
“She’s perfect,” I admitted.
“Good. That’s all I care about. She could be related to the plumber we used last week for all I care. People talk to people they know and ideas, possibilities, opportunities come up. What’s the mystery here?”
“Okay,” I said.
“It’s not incest.”
“Of course it isn’t.”
“Relatives try to help relatives. It goes on all the time.”
“All right. You made your point. Leave something for the vultures.”
“You’re such a dorky broad sometimes.”
“I knew you liked something about me.”
She laughed.
“I have an idea,” she said. “Just hear me out,” she added quickly.
“What?”
“Why not let Eve use our casita?”
“Our casita? It’s just a bathroom and a bedroom. Why wouldn’t she want her own apartment?”
“I read between the lines. She’s not in good financial shape. For a while at least, this would help her get over the hump. I think it’s worth it to get a decent, responsible, and talented employee. You know the flakes we’ve had come by and some we’ve had to let go.”
I was silent, thinking.
“Why all this hesitation, Kate? You certainly can’t see her as any sexual or love threat,” Willy added. “She’s shaped like a pear. Which I know is soon to be your shape.”
“Screw you, you know.”
She laughed.
“So?”
“Okay. Make her a card-carrying member of our family if it pleases you.”
“It should please us both to add someone worthwhile to the picture here.” She slapped her knees and stood up. “Let’s celebrate our new business, new employee, and your good physical tonight. Dinner at The Meadow. I’ll even get dressed up,” she added.
“In what? Your new athletic suit?”
“No. The pants and blouse you bought me for my birthday last month.”
“I wondered if you’d ever wear it.”
“Well, now you know. I’ll wrap things up out there, call Eve, and tell her to come by tomorrow, and we’ll go home. Be happy, Kate. We’re on a good luck streak,” she said, and left the office.
Maybe we were on a good luck streak. Maybe I was just a spoiled, ungrateful bitch.
Goodness knows, we were familiar enough with the type and half the females in my family, especially the cousins to my darling snob sister-in-law, fit the bill.
Perhaps I was infected with the same
selfishness. If so, I had full confidence in Willy to provide the antidote. She loved to pick on self-centered people, egotistical people, and could do so with sarcasm so biting, it might just bring on a case of rabies.
I would never admit it, but I was experiencing some second thoughts and that made me nervous and irritable. I didn’t want to think them or give them any time and attention. Despite the face I put on for Willy, knowing well that if I did show even the slightest hesitation, she might bolt, I still had these nagging questions.
Was the process so weird, so artificial so as to make the whole thing feel unnatural and would that feeling carry over to the baby?
I thought about my parents, everyone’s parents, who, except for those who married after the woman became pregnant or because the woman became pregnant, created their children in an act of loving commitment, creating their destiny. Could it be that the lovemaking for them carried something more than physical pleasure, that something spiritual and mystical happened between them and as a result of that the child was formed? Would I be missing this? More important, would our child?
All sorts of horror-movie scenarios played on the screen in my imagination. A child born of such an insemination procedure would be without soul. It wasn’t enough for him or her to be in my genetic stream. Deep inside himself or herself, he would know he came from a procedure and not from love. His daddy was delivered in a frozen container.
These ideas were so off the wall I didn’t dare even suggest them to Willy, but that didn’t mean they weren’t in my head. My hope was I would overcome them. Beyond a doubt, I would see that our child was too beautiful to be anything but perfect. Everything appeared to be working our way, too. Maybe my questions about Dr. Matthews, Dr. Aaron’s receptionist, Eve, all of it simply came from my own unvoiced hesitation. I had to get over it so I wouldn’t be so paranoid.
Actually, I was glad Willy suggested going out to dinner. I needed company, noise, friends, music, chatter, wine, and good food. It was a good idea to put all this aside for a while anyway. For too long it had dominated my every thought. Lately, every night I went to sleep thinking about it and it greeted me with the sunlight every morning as if it had been in the middle of a sentence when I fell asleep.
Unholy Birth Page 7