by MJ Howson
Dawn opened her mouth to respond but then closed it. She lowered her head and stared at the ring she was playing with. Dawn released the ring and began to twirl the pendant around her neck as she looked about the room, lost in her thoughts.
“He didn’t know, did he?” Dr. Cole asked. “That you were taking fertility pills.”
“It . . . it was a miracle. I wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant. Jacob and I having kids was never really discussed until after I got pregnant. Jacob was the difference.”
“And your fertility drugs.”
“No. No, I . . . I think it was Jacob.”
Dr. Cole nodded and made a mental note to record this after the session ended. As he did, he couldn’t help but get frustrated that this was yet another half-truth coming from Dawn.
“There were other men,” Dawn said. Her crystal blue eyes seemed to dim as she got lost in her thoughts. “After my fourth miscarriage. Many others. But none of them got me pregnant.”
“Were you trying to get pregnant with these other men?”
“No.” Dawn lowered her head and sighed. “Well, maybe. I think deep down, I knew my biological clock was ticking.”
“Dawn, you didn’t answer my question about Jacob and the fertility drugs. Did he know you were taking them?”
Dawn’s eyes filled with tears. Her lips quivered, and she whispered, “No.”
Dr. Cole waited for Dawn to finish fidgeting in her chair. He said, “Dawn, if Jacob doesn’t want kids, why are you still with him?”
“What?” Dawn sat upright, her body filled with tension.
“That last miscarriage was devastating for you. If motherhood is your goal, shouldn’t you be with someone who wants to be a father as much as you want to be a mother?”
Dawn looked around the office nervously, as if she were searching for an answer. After letting out a heavy sigh, she said, “Jacob would make a wonderful father. He . . . he just doesn’t know it yet.”
Dr. Cole glanced at the whirring recorder at the edge of his desk, doing his best to temper his frustration. He reminded himself that some patients took much longer than others to open up and be honest with him. But after nine sessions, he felt Dawn continued to surprise him with her revelations.
“Trust me,” Dawn said. “He treats me like gold. Most men pursue me for my wealth. They use me. Not Jacob. He works those jobs so he can shower me with gifts. He’s a good man.”
“I never said he wasn’t.” Dr. Cole smiled and looked over at the wall clock–11:47 a.m. “We’re just about out of time. Tell me, how are you sleeping these days?”
“Great.”
“You seem well-rested. And it’s nice to see you smiling. I know we’ve touched on some tough subjects today, but you came in here like you owned the world.”
Dawn nodded. “It’s Eve. Having her around makes me realize I’m meant to be a mother. I can feel it.” Dawn paused and smiled. “And no cat box to clean out.”
Dr. Cole laughed a deep belly laugh. He said, “A definite plus.”
“She sleeps next to me at night. I sometimes read with her before falling asleep.”
“Are you reading her children’s stories?”
“No. Hmm, I . . . I should get her some storybooks, shouldn’t I?” Dawn paused and played with her ring. “Usually, I just read the arts section of the Times.”
“I’m sure she finds it riveting.”
Dawn chuckled and said, “She’s made such a difference. She really has.” Dawn glanced at her watch and stood up. “I’m thinking of getting a stroller.”
“Really? For, what?”
“Well, to take her around in. I see all the other mothers doing it. And I see them sometimes struggle with stairs and curbs. I think it would be good practice for me.”
“I see.” Dr. Cole nodded, although he didn’t completely agree with her. “And, no more dreams about your child? The nightmares?”
“Gone.”
“That’s good.” Dr. Cole stood up and turned off the tape recorder. “Flo can confirm your next appointment. And Dawn, I do prefer we do these weekly, or at a minimum, every two weeks. It’s been three weeks since you were last here.”
“I’m just so happy with Eve.”
“I can see that. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
“Thanks.” Dawn smiled and walked to the door, stopping to glance at the ticking clock. She turned and asked, “Maybe I could bring her in some time?”
“Who?”
“Eve.”
“Oh, uh, well, if you’d like to.”
“And maybe Jacob?” Dawn smiled and added, “It would be like a group family session.”
Dr. Cole found himself taken aback by her use of the word family. He said, “You’ve mentioned bringing him in before. Have you talked to Jacob about it?”
Dawn reached for the pendant around her neck and nervously tapped the jewel. She sighed and said, “He’s been a bit . . . evasive.”
“Why don’t you discuss it with him again and see what he thinks?”
“Okay. I guess.” Dawn nodded and opened the door. “Bye.”
Dr. Cole watched Dawn leave without stopping to book a follow-up appointment with Flo. He sat back down and began to summarize his conclusions from the session and outline what he would want to focus on next week. As happy as he was to see Dawn a bit more upbeat, her focus on that doll was bothersome, not to mention her continued contradictions of past disclosures. He knew they still had much work to do together. Deep down, he wondered how many more sessions it would take to get to the truth.
After spending several minutes documenting his key findings and next steps, Dr. Cole leaned back in his chair and sighed. A chill ran through him as he reflected on Dawn’s behavior. He leaned forward and made one final entry at the end of the page–schiz aff dis?
Nineteen
In Home Services
Sweat dripped from Jacob’s shirtless body as he stared at the heavy-duty maroon duffel bag beside his feet. He knelt down, retrieved a dry black tank top, and pulled it over his shoulders. The fresh pair of matching track pants he wore were already becoming wet with perspiration. Jacob winced as he slowly stood back up. The session that just ended had caused him to pull a muscle in his lower back. He’d never suffered an injury like that before. He glanced over at the ornate full-length mirror in the hallway and wondered how many more years he’d be able to maintain this level of fitness.
Jacob’s smartwatch buzzed. He frowned, seeing that his next appointment just canceled on him. The time was just after three o’clock, October 6th. His current client, Carol, was busy in her bathroom cleaning up. He walked over to the nearby window to take in the view from Carol’s place.
The apartment, located on the twelfth floor of 15 Central Park West, offered a stunning view of New York’s iconic park. Unlike the steel and glass skinny skyscrapers rising up nearby, the thirty-five-story residence was designed more along the lines of old-world luxury. From the limestone exterior, sourced from the same quarry used for the Empire State building, to the rich English oak and Italian marble entrance, the complex dripped in first-class accommodations.
As Jacob stood there admiring the view, the bathroom door opened, and Carol stepped into the room. She adjusted her full-length red silk robe and brushed her long salt and pepper hair behind her shoulders.
“Sorry,” Carol said as she crossed the room to meet Jacob. “I can’t think of the last time I was that, um, sweaty.”
“No apologies needed.”
Carol was a fairly new client. Like many of Jacob’s older clients, she was at least ten to fifteen pounds overweight and very self-conscious of her looks. This was their second session together, but Jacob hoped she’d become a regular. High-end high-paying customers like these were what he lived for.
“I hope I didn’t disappoint you.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Well, I’m sure I’m much older than most–”
“I told you during our fi
rst session that age is just a number.” Jacob crossed his arms and studied Carol’s face. He could see the doubt washing over her. “I’ve got clients half your age who aren’t nearly as flexible as you are.”
“You’re just saying that.” Carol chuckled and waved a dismissive hand toward Jacob.
“It’s true. Trust me.” Jacob nodded toward the window beside him. Central Park, viewed from above, looked like an intricate green and brown tapestry laced with an endless variety of threads and fabrics. “I still can’t get over this view. How much does a place like this cost?”
“Well, to be honest, I’m . . . I’m, not sure.”
“Oh. Well, that’s okay. It’s really none of my business.”
“Let me explain.” Carol briefly ran her hand along Jacob’s glistening shoulder. “My husband bought it. I had no say in the matter.”
“Oh.”
Carol patted Jacob’s arm and looked out the window. She sighed and said, “When he passed away two years ago, it all fell into the hands of my trust fund manager. He pays all my expenses. I . . . I really don’t know what any of this costs.”
Jacob smiled a crooked grin and nodded, but inside he wanted to explode. He knew Carol’s three-bedroom high-end apartment adjacent to Central Park was easily worth eight-figures. During his first visit here, he ran into Denzel Washington on the elevator. Apparently, he was one of a number of celebrities with homes here.
It amazed Jacob how so many rich people could be completely clueless about the privileged lives they led. He saw it constantly, going all the way back to his modeling days. He’d banged more than his fair share of billionaires in his twenties. Even now, working at the Harbor View bar, he regularly mingled with the elite. They’d think nothing of buying or selling a yacht. Or, like Carol, living in a place they literally couldn’t put a price tag on.
“I should get going,” Jacob said. He walked past Carol to get to his duffel bag.
“Did . . . did you need a shower?”
“Oh. No. No, thank you.” Jacob looked down at his sweat-covered body. He had a jacket in his duffel bag but wanted to cool down before tossing it on later. “I need to get to my next client.” Jacob smiled as he picked up his bag. Carol stood there smiling back. He sighed and finally said, “Are you forgetting something?”
“Oh!” Carol laughed and shuffled back to the hallway. She picked up an envelope resting on a white marble console table and brought it back to Jacob. “Sorry.”
Jacob grinned as he opened it and rifled through the fifty-dollar bills jammed inside. He knew he didn’t need to count it and slid the envelope into his bag.
“Same time next week?” Carol asked.
“Oh. Sure thing. Definitely. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Jacob turned and headed toward the door. He glanced back to see Carol standing there smiling with her hands clasped across her waist. He was happy he had another satisfied and recurring customer.
As he closed the door and entered the hallway, Jacob’s phone buzzed. He frowned when he read the notification reminding him about an upcoming monthly scheduled bank transfer. He sighed, dismissed the reminder, and said, “Is it that time already?”
The elevator ride to the lobby gave Jacob time to think about what he should do now that his four o’clock client bailed on him. His shift at the bar didn’t start until seven tonight. His mind immediately went to Dawn. Jacob knew he’d been absent lately and should probably check in on her.
Foot traffic on Central Park West was light. The air was cooler than he expected, but the breeze felt nice rushing across his sweaty exposed arms. Jacob retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialed Dawn. After a few rings, she answered.
“Jacob?” Dawn asked.
“Hey there.” Jacob continued heading south toward Columbus Circle. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No. Not at all. This . . . this is a nice surprise. I’ve been thinking about you a lot today.”
“Are you free for an early dinner?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. My schedule cleared up. I thought we could–”
“I thought we were getting together tomorrow night. Or did you forget?”
“Not at all.”
“Our one-year anniversary. The night we met at the bar.”
“I can’t believe it’s been a year.” Jacob still had no idea what to do for their anniversary. He was still paying for last month’s extravagant birthday night. He was hoping to find a simple restaurant near her place where they could dine. “If you don’t want me to come by tonight, I’ll understand.”
“Of course not. I’d love to see you.”
“Great.” Jacob stopped near the entrance to the Columbus Circle subway. He closed his eyes and mapped the route he could take to walk to the Spire. “I think I can be there in about half an hour.”
“Oh! So soon. I’m . . . I’m not quite ready for company.”
“Neither am I. I just left a client. I’m all sweaty. If you want to wait for me, we could shower together.”
Jacob smiled as Dawn’s laughter echoed through the earpiece. He tried to remember the last time he heard her laugh so loudly.
“It’s a date,” Dawn said. “See you soon.”
Jacob made it to Dawn’s apartment in less than twenty minutes, sprinting through traffic whenever he could. His back was still bothering him, and he hoped the interval training would help to loosen his muscles. He was drenched in sweat by the time he reached the Spire’s express elevator.
Jacob tossed his jacket on just as the doors opened to Dawn’s penthouse suite. He didn’t want to greet her with sweat running down his arms, although deep down, he knew Dawn would probably like that. Jacob stopped to check himself out in the mirrored lobby, disappointed to see his jet-black hair flopped everywhere. He quickly slicked it back and adjusted his form-fitting nylon jacket. Jacob ran a finger across the scar that ran through his lip and cheek and frowned.
The door to the apartment opened, and Dawn came running over to see him. She was wearing a white kaftan covered in black petals. The ruby brooch she wore the other day was clipped up high above her chest, and she was wearing the clunky gold sapphire ring.
“Look at that smile,” Jacob said. He swept Dawn into his arms, kissing her longingly and gently on her lips. “You look beautiful.”
“Oh, stop!” Dawn giggled as she pecked at Jacob’s cheeks, showering them with kisses. She ran her fingers through his hair. “You’re sweaty.” She then sniffed his clothes and frowned. “And you stink.”
“It was a long two miles. Too many lights.” Jacob pressed his nose against Dawn’s hair and inhaled. The sweet scent of lavender and citrus took him by surprise. “You don’t.” He stepped back and grinned. “Are you wearing perfume?”
“Just a spritz. From my mother’s collection.”
Dawn took Jacob by the hand and led him into the apartment. Lalah Hathaway’s You Were Meant for Me wafted from the overhead speakers. He tossed his duffel bag beside the exit and followed Dawn over to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and passed it to Jacob.
“Thanks.” Jacob quickly downed the entire bottle. He unzipped his jacket and smiled at Dawn. He nodded toward Dawn’s head and said, “Still undecided, I see.”
“Oh, this?” Dawn ran her fingers against her scalp, highlighting her ever-growing dark roots. She flipped her hair, now extending past her shoulders, behind her neck. “I know.”
“So, how’s your week been?”
“It’s been great.”
“Did you see your therapist this week?”
“I did.” Dawn paused and gently bit her lip. “We talked about you coming in for a session.”
“Oh.” Jacob briefly studied Dawn’s nervous temperament. “So, the doctor feels I need to be there?”
“Well . . . not exactly. I mean, it was my idea.”
“What does he think?”
“He . . . told me to ask you.” Dawn shook her head and sighed. “H
e’s done that before. Maybe he doesn’t want you there.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of take-out menus, and slid them toward Jacob. She said, “Honestly, Jacob, there are days I just don’t understand him.”
“But you seem so much happier.”
“I’m happier because of Eve.”
“That doll?”
“She has a name.” Dawn walked up to Jacob and kissed him on the cheek. “Stay here. And close your eyes. I have a surprise for you.”
Jacob watched as Dawn hurried over to her studio on the other side of the living room. The door was closed. Dawn stopped and looked back at Jacob and said, “Close them!”
Jacob leaned back against the kitchen counter, sighed, and closed his eyes. A series of thumps and clunks echoed throughout the room, but Jacob resisted the urge to peek.
“Okay, you can open them now,” Dawn said.
Dawn was standing next to the fireplace with a pristine white stroller in front of her. She smiled as she maneuvered the buggy around her furniture and over to Jacob. When she stopped in front of him, he looked inside to see the doll tucked beneath a white blanket, the eyes closed.
“Well?” Dawn said. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
The carriage, like most of Dawn’s purchases, was very expensive. The Silver Cross Kensington Pram was hand-built and hand-sewn. The sixteen-inch white spoked wheels were a classic design, as was the chrome detailing and leather handle. The timeless shape resulted in a baby stroller that looked like it came from the 1940s.
Jacob ran his fingers across the stitched hood. Having worn endless fabrics during his modeling career, he knew quality when it brushed against his skin. He had to admit the design was impeccable. Jacob pried his eyes away and asked, “You don’t plan to wheel it around in public, do you?”
“It?” Dawn gently pulled the doll out from beneath the blanket, causing Eve’s eyes to immediately snap open. She began to rock Eve back and forth. The swaying motion made the eyes click and clack open and closed. “The doctor said this is good for me. Eve’s part of my therapy.”
“Oh, okay.” Jacob tried not to frown as he watched Dawn begin to dance around with the doll nestled in her arms. He found it all rather odd but wanted to be supportive. “I just don’t want people making fun of you for pushing a doll around. They might think you’re crazy.”