by MJ Howson
“You converted it to a nursery?” Jacob’s jaw dropped, and his brow furrowed. “When?”
“Last month,” Dawn said. “The final piece was delivered yesterday.”
“Aren’t you the sneaky one?”
“I wanted to surprise you. What do you think?”
Jacob followed Dawn into the room, stopped, and looked around. He remained silent as he methodically studied everything.
“My designer did a stunning job, didn’t he?” Dawn asked.
“It’s beautiful.”
The nursery’s style matched the rest of the apartment, including the lack of color. A cream-painted crib was positioned beneath a Swarovski crystal chandelier. A changing table and dresser were along the side of the room near the entrance to the bathroom. A white wooden rocking chair sat in the corner, angled to allow a view out the floor-to-ceiling windows. A small matching table was beside it. The walls were covered in abstract paintings Dawn had specifically created for the nursery. Like the rest of the apartment, the artwork lacked color–a mix of black, white, and creams.
Dawn slid her arm around Jacob’s waist and led him to the dresser on the far side of the room. A nightlight projector she’d purchased earlier in the week sat atop the chest. The small lamp beamed realistic variations of nebulas and other cosmic effects. There were multiple settings to adjust the color and variety of what was displayed.
“Isn’t it lovely?” Dawn asked.
“Yes, but isn’t all of this a bit, well, soon?”
“You’re worried I’ll have another miscarriage, aren’t you?” Dawn let go of Jacob and looked away. A bowl filled with lavender-scented gel beads sat beside the nightlight projector. Dawn suddenly found little comfort from the flowery scent.
“I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. You told me how difficult the others were.”
“This time’s different. I can feel it.”
Dawn walked to the cradle in the middle of the room and motioned Jacob to join her. He went to her side and took her hand, letting his eyes settle on the white cotton blanket tucked inside the empty crib.
“Jacob, I know this wasn’t what we planned. But it’s our future now.”
“Like I said, let’s take this day by day, okay?”
Dawn nodded and lowered her head.
“Hey,” Jacob said.
Dawn looked up into Jacob’s eyes.
“I’m here for you,” Jacob said. “Whatever happens. We’re in this together.”
Dawn threw her arms around Jacob and buried her face against him. She said, “I love you, Jacob.”
“I love you too.”
Jacob pulled her closer, and the two began to sway back and forth. Dawn looked around at the nebulas swirling across the room. Jacob’s embrace always brought her comfort. She glanced at the crib. Deep down, she knew Eve’s arrival would complete the family she longed for.
Jacob ran his fingers up and down Dawn’s back. The scruff of his chin tugged at her hair as he gently kissed the top of her head.
Dawn found Jacob’s touch intoxicating. She slid her hands up his torso and began to unbutton his shirt. Dawn said, “You, know, we . . . we haven’t had sex in weeks.”
Jacob stopped swaying. He said, “The doctor said we shouldn’t. Not with your history.”
“I know.” Dawn sighed and pulled Jacob closer. “It’s going to be a long pregnancy.”
“You know, there are other ways I can satisfy you.”
Dawn looked up to see Jacob’s crooked smile looking down. She grinned and said, “I do recall you being a man of many talents.”
“You know me so well.”
“Just . . . just be gentle.”
“Don’t worry. I know your limits.” Jacob leaned down and kissed Dawn, cupping her backside and thrusting her into the air. “So, here or–?”
“The nursery?” Dawn laughed as Jacob lowered her to the ground. She took his hand and led him into the hallway. “Follow me, young man.”
The owner’s suite made up the entire top floor. One-third of the space was an elaborate wardrobe room that included some of her mother’s most celebrated items. The bedroom contained a large northwestern-facing terrace.
Jacob pulled Dawn onto her king-sized bed and began to undress her, passionately licking and biting her neck and earlobes. Dawn peeled Jacob’s shirt off, revealing a perfectly trimmed and muscular chest perched atop a deep six-pack. Jacob ripped his pants off as Dawn slid beneath the sheets. She threw her head against the pillow and looked up. A black spherical metal clock beside her bed projected the time onto the ceiling–11:55 p.m.
“Remember, go gentle,” Dawn said with a grin.
Jacob gave her a wink and then dove beneath the covers. Dawn giggled and twitched as she felt him unlatch her bra and lick her nipples. He soon emerged, his gelled hair slightly rustled, displaying her bra in his teeth. He flung the bra to the side and said, “One more to go.”
Jacob kissed her chin and disappeared beneath the covers. His fingers caressed her torso and inner thigh. As his hands slid beneath her panties, he suddenly stopped.
Dawn’s smile faded as Jacob remained motionless. She looked down at the frozen figure beneath the sheets and asked, “What?”
Jacob sat upright, causing the sheets to fall from his shoulders. A look of shock covered his face.
“What?” Dawn said again, her heartbeat pounding in her chest.
Jacob raised his hands and showed they were now covered in blood. Dawn began to scream.
Four
14 Park Tower
Jacob stared at the wine-soaked white cotton towel clenched in his hand. Droplets of crimson-red liquid fell from the rag into the stainless steel sink below. Seeing the red pool form brought Jacob back to the night Dawn lost the baby. Although it happened a month ago, the image of his bloody hands still haunted him. The clamor of the patrons in the bar slowly pulled him from his trance. Jacob tossed the towel into the sink before turning around to get back to work.
The Harbor View cocktail lounge occupied the western side of the twentieth floor of 14 Park Tower, the latest luxury hotel to hit Chelsea. Situated between 14th and 15th Streets bordering the High Line, the five-star hotel was the talk of the town when it opened last year. The building quickly earned a reputation for impeccable service and unsurpassed quality. The unobstructed view of the sun setting over New Jersey across the Hudson River looked exceptionally tranquil this first week of June.
Decked out in a mid-century modern look, the lounge’s teal and cream-colored chairs, sofas, and booths popped against the dark walnut-paneled walls. Thick glass tables reflected the orange urchin-style pendant lights descending from the ceiling. The spiky orbs hung at varying lengths created a unique glow throughout the space.
As a highly sought-after model during his early twenties, Jacob often found himself at posh establishments such as Harbor View, hobnobbing with society’s finest. For years, Jacob had been the guy wedged into a booth enjoying high-end champagne and beautiful women while the wait staff bent over backward to please him. Never did he imagine himself a bartender on the opposite side of the velvet rope watching the world’s richest gossip and indulge.
These days, as one of the top bartenders in Harbor View, he still got to mingle and flirt with the rich and famous–just in a different way from the days of old. Jacob certainly couldn’t complain about the tips, even if they often involved putting up with painfully trite advances from men and women he had no interest in getting to know. One of them, a Harbor View regular, had spent the last two hours practically stalking Jacob.
“Can I get you another?” Jacob asked. His forced smile displayed a perfect set of blindingly white teeth. “Or are you calling it a night?”
The woman at the bar went by Rose Garden. A laughably fake Hollywood name, the fallen star once made a name for herself in a string of romantic comedies in the seventies. Drug addiction eventually sidelined her career. Her big comeback a decade later bombed, much like her latest
plastic surgery.
“That depends,” Rose said. She chugged back her bottom-shelf whiskey and leaned forward. “What time do you get off?”
Jacob pretended to be embarrassed. He looked at the brass starburst wall clock in the lounge and said, “Actually, my night’s almost over.”
“Really?” Rose smiled, revealing a set of oversized veneers. “I thought this place closed at midnight?”
“It does, but my shift ends at eight tonight.” Jacob pointed to Lisa standing at the other end of the bar. “She can take care of you.”
“I somehow doubt that.”
Jacob smiled and turned away, grabbing his phone tucked behind the counter. He gave it a quick glance and sighed upon seeing over a dozen notifications. He’d have to review them on the walk to the train.
“What could be more important than me?” Rose asked.
“What?” Jacob spun around and put his phone away. “I was just checking my messages.”
“Anyone special?”
“My other job. I’m a trainer.”
“I bet you are.”
A figure in white entered the far side of the lounge, catching Jacob’s eye. He looked past Rose to see Dawn. The glow of the overhead lights caused her full-length dress to positively shimmer. She waved at Jacob and proceeded to make her way to the bar. Dawn’s trim waist and tight-fitting gown drew several glances of approval from others as she crossed the room. Jacob smiled, relieved to have an excuse to end this awkward discussion.
“Excuse me, my girlfriend’s here.” Jacob took Rose’s empty glass and slid it toward Lisa. He caught Lisa’s gaze and rolled his eyes toward Rose, so she got the message. Dawn took a seat at a corner of the bar far away from Rose. Jacob walked over, took her hand in his, and kissed her fingers. “This is a surprise.”
“I’m sorry.” Dawn placed her white purse on the bar and gave Rose a cursory glance. “I texted but didn’t hear back from you.”
“It’s been a busy night,” Jacob said. He winked at Dawn and cast a glance toward Rose, now talking to Lisa. “Gotta keep the customers happy.”
Rose tossed Lisa a fifty-dollar bill, grabbed her bag–an Evelyn Easton design, ironically enough–and left the bar.
“Always the smooth talker,” Dawn said as she watched Rose walk away. She looked around the bar and out the windows overlooking the Hudson River. As she did, Jacob poured Dawn a glass of chardonnay. “Funny. That’s how we met. I was that woman once. A lonely woman sitting at this bar, watching you serve me as you laughed and told stories. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”
“Trust me, Dawn, you were never that woman.” Jacob poured himself a shot of tequila and placed both drinks in front of Dawn. “She’s got to be pushing eighty if not more. You’re not even half her age.”
“I turn forty in September. That’s what? Less . . . less than three months from now. Has it been that long since . . . .”
Dawn looked away as she tried to compose herself.
Jacob knew Dawn still struggled to discuss her miscarriage. He glanced over at Lisa and then nodded at the clock, indicating he was officially off duty. Lisa smiled and winked back. Jacob unbuttoned his sleeves and the top two buttons of his pressed white shirt. He grabbed his phone, walked around the bar, and took a seat beside Dawn.
“It’s been a month since the miscarriage.” Jacob slid his finger beneath Dawn’s chin and tilted her head until their eyes met. “I know you’re still hurting.”
“That’s why I came over. I . . . I was hoping you’d come home with me. Maybe spend the night?”
“I wish I could, but I’ve got clients back in Jersey starting at five tomorrow morning.”
“Oh.” Dawn sighed and lowered her head, allowing her shoulders to droop. She took a few small sips from her glass. “Maybe next time.”
“Hey.” Jacob brushed his fingers against Dawn’s cheek. “Look at me.” Jacob waited until Dawn looked up. Her crystal blue eyes popped more than usual against her pale complexion. Even with the warm lighting surrounding them, she looked gaunt. “Have you eaten today?”
“A bit.” Dawn presented an unconvincing smile. “I’m fine. You worry too much.”
“It’s my job to worry.” Jacob gently kissed Dawn’s cheek. “Who else is going to look after you?”
“You’re so good to me.” Dawn leaned over and rested her head against Jacob’s shoulder. “I had some yogurt for lunch.”
“And?”
“That was enough.”
Jacob sighed and ran his fingers through Dawn’s hair. He was surprised to see her black roots now half an inch long. Dawn didn’t look at him. She stared across the bar at her reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bottles of alcohol.
“You’ve been so depressed since the miscarriage,” Jacob said. “Even your hair isn’t too happy these days.”
“What about my hair?”
“Since when have you ever let your natural color shine?”
“Oh. That. It’s . . . it’s not a priority.”
Jacob stared at Dawn as she continued to gaze upon her reflection. His mind raced to come up with some words of encouragement. But what could he say to cheer her up? During the past month, he felt as though he’d exhausted every option. He knew there was nothing he could say or do to help. Her happiness could only come from within.
“Are you painting yet?” Jacob asked.
“Painting? Um, no.”
“That was always your outlet. Such beautiful paintings. You used to spend weeks obsessed with your latest inspiration.”
“I . . . I know. I’m just not feeling it. Not yet.” Dawn took a long drink from her glass. “I just can’t stop thinking about Eve. Every morning I stop in the nursery and stare at that empty crib. Sometimes I sit in the rocker holding her blanket, imagining she was in my arms nuzzled against my chest.”
“You need to let go, Dawn.”
“I built that room for Eve.” Dawn lowered her head as tears welled in her eyes. Her voice cracked as she said, “I can’t stop thinking about her.” She stared into her drink, lost in her thoughts. “My whole life I’ve wanted to be a mother. I abandoned that dream years ago.” She looked up into Jacob’s eyes. “And then we made Eve. I was so sure this time was different.”
“Come over here.” Jacob put his arm around Dawn and pulled her close, burying his nose against the top of her head. “I know how hard this has been. I wish I could just wave a magic wand and make this pain go away.” He glanced out the windows at the sparkling skyline and briefly closed his eyes. “To go back to the way things used to be.”
“Me too.” Dawn sat up and brushed her fingers through Jacob’s gelled hair, and nodded. “It’s only been a month, right? Maybe . . . maybe I just need more time.”
“What were the other times like?”
“Other times?” Dawn recoiled and lowered her head. “Do you mean the other . . . other . . . .”
“Miscarriages. Were you this depressed after those?”
“Sure, but . . . but not like this. I don’t know why this time’s so different.” Dawn ran her hand across her stomach. “Maybe it’s because I was so sure Eve was the one.”
Jacob grabbed some cocktail napkins and gave them to Dawn. She smiled and dabbed her watery eyes.
“Have you thought of seeking help?” Jacob asked.
“You mean my doctor at the clinic?”
“Not that kind of help.”
Dawn furrowed her brow, frowned, and asked, “Do you think I need mental help?”
“It couldn’t hurt.”
“Really?” Dawn shook her head and took another sip of her wine. “There’s nothing therapeutic about talk therapy. My mother tried that. Did I ever tell you?”
“You never talk about your family.”
“Therapy was a waste of her time. Why should I bother trying? I can’t believe you suggested it.”
“Hey.” Jacob pulled Dawn close and nuzzled his nose against her ear, gently kissing her cheek. “All I’m try
ing to do is help, Dawn.”
“I know.”
“You aren’t getting better. You aren’t eating. You’re losing weight.”
“I’m sure my appetite will come back at some point.”
Jacob leaned closer and asked, “What about your dreams?”
“What . . . what about them?”
“Do you still wake up screaming?”
“Sometimes.” Dawn turned away and lowered her shoulders and head. “I keep hoping they’ll stop.”
“We’ve been at this for weeks, Dawn. Every day it’s the same thing.” Jacob shook his head and sighed. “I love you. You know I do. But I don’t know what to say or do to help you get better.”
“Neither do I.”
“Losing a baby is traumatic. You’ve lost five.” Jacob wiped Dawn’s cheeks dry and gently kissed her lips. “Would you at least consider seeing someone? For me?”
“Therapy?” Dawn placed her hands on Jacob’s face and ran her thumb across his stubbled chin. She smiled and kissed him deeply on the lips. “I’ll think about it, Jacob. For you.”
∞∞∞
Dawn stood in front of the closed door to her art studio, staring at her hand resting on the handle. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t summon the strength to open the door and step inside. Jacob was right. Painting and inspiration came hand in hand. Neither interested her lately.
With a heavy sigh, Dawn lowered her hand and said. “Evelyn, secure the apartment.”
“Securing the apartment,” the system replied.
The locks on the front door snapped shut. The motorized curtains in the living and dining room whirred as they slid closed, concealing the outside world. The fireplace slowly dimmed until only a faint hint of light emanated from beneath the glass crystals.
Dawn took the private elevator to the owner’s suite on the top floor. Once inside, she stopped beside her bed and dropped to her knees. Dawn shoved her arms beneath her bed. “Where is it?” After a bit of fumbling, she said, “There you are.”