by MJ Howson
Eve reached for the doorknob and yanked the black wooden door open. She glanced back at Dawn and smiled before running inside and closing the door behind her.
Dawn, sweat running down her face, finally reached the door. The perspiration immediately turned ice cold on her skin. Dawn grabbed the handle, but it would not turn. She pounded against the door, crying. Suddenly a voice in the darkness cried out, “Mom! No!”
Dawn screamed herself awake. She looked around her bedroom, lost and confused. Her feet throbbed, and sweat covered her brow. The time projected on the ceiling read 11:55 p.m. Dawn turned on the bedside lamp and looked at Eve resting beside her. She pulled the doll closer. Eve’s eyes clicked open. Dawn asked, “What are you trying to tell me? What’s behind that door?”
Twenty Five
Suspicious Minds
The brisk late-October air whipped across Dawn’s cheeks as she pushed Eve’s stroller north along the High Line. Her lightly-tinted gold-framed Prada sunglasses reflected the nearby concrete and glass Spire. She smiled and nodded to passersby, her head held high. Last week’s nightmare was a distant memory, and she and Eve had spent several lovely days together. All Dawn could think about was her coffee and pastry awaiting her at Mercado Little Spain. But her first stop would be to see Joe.
Dawn found her favorite security guard patrolling the area surrounding the Vessel. She waved with excitement when Joe noticed her and quickly made her way toward him. Dawn removed her sunglasses and said, “Good morning, Joe.”
“Good morning to you, Miss Easton,” Joe said. He looked her up and down, briefly glancing at the baby stroller. “You look different today.”
“Thanks.” Dawn ran her hands across her white jacket and up to the graphic green scarf wrapped around her neck. “I’ve been diving into my mother’s old collections lately.”
“It’s a beautiful scarf.”
“I love it. Oh, and I grabbed these, too.” Dawn held up her right arm and wiggled her hand, causing the two white gold bracelets around her wrist to clink together. One was encrusted with blue sapphires, the other with red rubies. She smiled at Joe and said, “Red, blue and green are primary colors.”
“I told you a little pop of color wouldn’t hurt.”
“A bit of makeup today, too.” Dawn smiled, her lips displaying a pale but shiny shade of coral lipstick. “I’ve been experimenting.”
“I noticed.”
“The scarf’s from my mother’s abstract geometric phase.” Dawn pulled the scarf from beneath her coat, holding it out for Joe to inspect. “I may try to paint something like this.”
Joe ran his fingers across the flowing silk and nodded toward Dawn’s head. He asked, “And what’s going on up there?”
“Oh!” Dawn laughed as she tucked her scarf beneath her jacket. “My roots. I know. I . . . I keep changing my mind.” Dawn’s natural black color extended almost three inches from her scalp before fading into a nearly white-blonde color. She ran her fingers through her locks and asked, “What do you think?”
Joe stroked his chin, widened his eyes, and said, “You look like you’ve been dipped in paint.”
The two shared a brief laugh before Dawn turned her attention to Eve. The wind in the wide-open plaza allowed gusts to roll in from the Hudson River, buffeting the stroller. Dawn secured the blanket tighter around Eve, her eyes wide open. Joe watched with curiosity as Dawn fussed over the doll.
“I’ve been painting a lot these days,” Dawn said. “Life’s good. Mostly. I’ve even surprised myself by these pops of color. It’s been nice revisiting my mother’s stuff.”
“And, uh, I see you still have the doll.”
“Eve. Her name is Eve.” Dawn forced a smile as she stared at Joe, disappointed he’d forgotten her name. “She’s been the best. Truly. We have our routine now. It’s really made me see I’m destined for motherhood.”
Joe nodded, his eyes darting between Dawn and Eve. He said, “Well, you do seem happier lately.”
“Thanks, Joe. I have another session with my doctor today. Speaking of which, let me get going. I’m not myself until I get my miguelito and coffee.”
After making her way to Mercado Little Spain on the lower level, Dawn returned topside to the High Line. The elevated walkway felt busier than usual. Dawn sipped her coffee as she headed south until arriving at the 10th Avenue bleachers. She was relieved to find an open bench beneath a tree. Dawn parked Eve’s stroller against the back railing and removed her pastry bag tucked inside. She sat down on the narrow slotted bench and started enjoying her breakfast.
“I wonder what the doctor will want to talk about today,” Dawn said to Eve. “I’m starting to think that, now that I have you, I don’t really need him anymore. You know? These sessions seem useless the longer they go on.”
Dawn took a sip of coffee to wash her pastry down. The long stroll and cool breeze had lowered the temperature of her drink. She glanced into the stroller. Eve, her eyes closed, sat motionless, appearing to be fast asleep beneath the white cotton blanket. Dawn reached in and stroked her hair. The doll’s eyes suddenly snapped open.
“Take me with you,” Eve said.
“Take you?” Dawn asked. She wiped bits of powdered sugar from her lips. “I should, shouldn’t I? I didn’t ask him about it last time. He . . . he never really asks about you.”
A mother pushing a pink and white carriage caught Dawn’s eye. As they passed one another, the woman looked at Dawn, smiled, and nodded. Dawn returned the gesture, her emotions swelling with joy at the thought of being part of a special club–one mom acknowledging another. Her smile soon faded as her thoughts returned to the doctor.
“What’s his problem?” Dawn asked Eve. She reached into the stroller and began to fidget with the doll’s curly locks. “We’re so good together. Maybe . . . maybe I should take you. Then he can see what a great mother I’d make. Maybe he can stop those pills, too.” Dawn grinned, delighted by the idea of going off her meds. “Maybe he will say I’m all better.”
Dawn waited for Eve to say something, but she remained quiet, tucked beneath the blanket. Dawn shrugged and went back to enjoying the rest of her pastry and coffee. She’d left herself enough time this morning to bring Eve back to her apartment before heading to her appointment. With Eve now coming along, she had time to spare. Dawn placed the empty coffee cup, napkins, and wrapper into the bakery bag. She brought it to a nearby trash bin and tossed it away.
Returning to her bench, Dawn sat beside the stroller and said, “We’ve got extra time this morning, Eve. I wonder what we should do next. Maybe head to Zuni to visit Janet? No. No, that’s probably too far away.”
“Feed me,” Eve said.
“Feed you?” Dawn stared into Eve’s sparkling sapphire eyes. She frowned and looked around her. The nearby benches were filled with people doing different things: A millennial chatting on the phone; a gay couple holding hands exchanging small talk; a mother feeding her daughter potato chips. “I . . . I guess you do need to eat, don’t you?”
Dawn reached into the stroller, unfolded the blanket surrounding Eve, and gently removed the doll. Dawn had never bothered to buy Eve new clothes. The doll wore the same ruby-red dress she had the day she got her. Dawn cradled Eve in one arm and used her other hand to open her coat. She loosened her graphic green scarf, allowing it to fall freely across her chest. Dawn unbuttoned her blouse and slowly removed her left breast. She pulled Eve close, placing the doll’s pink painted lips against her nipple. Eve’s eyes snapped shut. Dawn adjusted Eve’s arms, so her hands gently clutched her breast. She used her scarf to cover Eve’s copper locks, holding her head close. She rocked the doll back and forth and said, “That’s my girl.”
∞∞∞
Dr. Cole adjusted his glasses as he leaned back in his chair, studying his notes. His session with Dawn, now nearing its end, had been what he could only conclude to be a major setback. His plan to dive deeper into her mother’s absence from her life had been sidelined once Dawn arrived
with the doll. Dr. Cole’s notepad had questions and comments about Dawn’s fixation over her daily routines and frustration over people not accepting Eve. Throughout the session, Dawn had become more and more defensive, refusing to talk about her mother.
“How’s Jacob?” Dr. Cole asked. “We haven’t touched on him today.”
“Who knows,” Dawn replied, nervously twirling her scarf. “He’s been so distant lately. I . . . I don’t think he likes Eve. Just like you don’t.”
“That’s not true.” Dr. Cole clasped his hands together. “As I said earlier, I wasn’t expecting her.”
“You told me she’d be good for me. Just like those dolls they use for expectant mothers. That’s what you told me!”
“There’s no need to raise your voice. Those dolls are different, Dawn. They’re lifelike and meant to simulate a real baby.”
“But her eyes move. Her hands and legs. Just like a real baby.”
“Yes, but that delicate porcelain, well, it’s not the same.” Dr. Cole could see the disappointment in Dawn’s eyes and debated the best way to correct course. After a few moments, he said, “Let’s focus on Jacob, okay?”
“Okay.” Dawn bit her lip and frowned. “But now that you’ve seen Eve, you know I’m destined to be a good mother, right?”
Dr. Cole smiled and decided it was best to ignore her question. He asked, “Tell me, why do you think Jacob doesn’t like her?”
“Well, he never wants to hold her.” Dawn anxiously spun her ruby and sapphire bracelets back and forth. “He . . . he keeps telling me she’s just a doll and to not treat her like a real baby.”
“I see.” Dr. Cole glanced at the nearby recorder. He knew he would have a lot of follow-up notes to make after the session ended.
“And he didn’t like the stroller. He thought I was going a bit too far. But what happens when I have a real baby? Will he be the same way?”
“It’s hard to say.” Dr. Cole smiled and glimpsed at the clock on the wall, somewhat relieved to see that they’d reached the end of the session. He looked at Dawn and said, “We can dive into that more next time. That reminds me, have you asked Jacob about coming in with you?”
“He . . . he doesn’t seem very interested.”
“Really? Well, hopefully he will change his mind soon.”
“Maybe,” Dawn said, looking at her watch. “Looks like we’re done.” She stood up and grabbed her coat from the back of the chair.
“Dawn, before you go, how are you sleeping?” Dr. Cole asked. “Any side effects from the medication?”
“I sleep just fine.” Dawn tossed her coat on and tucked her scarf inside. “Most nights, I read until I fall asleep.”
“What are you reading these days?” Dr. Cole reached for the stop button on the tape recorder. “Did you finally get those children’s books?”
“What? Oh. Um, no. Sometimes the diary, but . . . .” Dawn looked at Eve buried deep inside the stroller and frowned. “I mean the newspaper.”
Dr. Cole slowly pulled his hand away from the button, leaving the recorder running. He looked at Dawn and asked, “Diary? Your mother’s? Yours?”
“Mine?” Dawn chuckled. “No, I never kept a diary as a kid. Neither did my mother. At least that I’m aware of.”
Dr. Cole leaned back in his chair, causing the hinges to loudly creek. He crossed his arms across his belly and arched his eyebrows.
“I got it where I got Eve,” Dawn said, her eyes darting between the stroller and the doctor. “It came with her.”
“What’s it about?”
“It’s just a bunch of stories about these kids at camp.”
“What kids?”
“Tina, Billy, Anna.” Dawn glanced back at Eve and sighed. “Why?”
Dr. Cole resisted the urge to write the names down. He looked at Dawn and asked, “Any others?”
“Others? Kids? Um, Charles was one.” Dawn folded her arms and frowned. “Why?”
“No reason. I’m just curious.” Dr. Cole smiled. “And this diary helps you sleep? The stories relax you?”
“Um, yes. I . . . I guess.”
“Maybe you can bring it with you next time.”
Dawn grabbed her purse from the floor, her heavy jeweled bracelets rattling against one another. As she stood up, she looked into the stroller for several seconds. Eve’s eyes snapped open. Dawn turned to the doctor and said, “Maybe.”
“Dawn, I’m going to write you a new prescription.”
“What?” Dawn gripped the carriage’s handlebar. “Why?”
Dr. Cole opened his top drawer and brushed his cell phones aside, searching for his script pad. When he found it, he pulled it out and grabbed a pen. As he began to write, he said, “It’s for stress.”
“Stress? I’m not stressed. I told you, I’m much happier since getting Eve.”
“I know.” Dr. Cole finished writing the script, tore it from the pad, and placed it at the front of his desk. He waited for Dawn to pick it up, but she remained glued to the side of the stroller. “You’re attitude shows happiness, as it relates to caring for Eve, but your anxiety regarding your family and even Jacob has been on the rise.”
“It . . . it has?” Dawn slowly walked toward the desk. “But, I thought I was doing better.”
“Don’t take this as a setback, Dawn. You’re postpartum depression is much improved. Truly.”
Dawn picked up the script and stared at it for what Dr. Cole felt was an extremely long time. She finally sighed, unclasped her purse, and shoved the paper inside. As she did, one of the phones in the drawers began to buzz, causing a series of rattles to occur, including a resonating hum from the Trust plaque. Dawn stared at the small frame, flipped it face down to stop the buzzing, and said, “I’ve told you before, that’s very rude.” She glanced over her shoulder at the ticking wall clock and added, “Almost as annoying as that thing.”
Almost as if on cue, the radiator began to clank and hiss as it filled with steam. Dawn shot it a look of disapproval and frowned.
Dr. Cole leaned forward, pressing his stomach against the drawer. He flipped the plaque upright and said, “I got this from my brother-in-law Daniel. Did I ever tell you that?”
“No.”
“It was a gift to celebrate opening this office. Daniel understood trust to be the foundation I planned to build my practice on. Trust is important, Dawn.”
Dawn folded her arms and looked away.
“Don’t forget to schedule your next session with Flo when you leave.” The phone continued to buzz. Dr. Cole ignored it. “Enjoy your weekend.”
Dawn stared at the Trust plaque buzzing on the desk. She finally said, “Thanks. You too.”
Dr. Cole waited until Dawn left the room before stopping the tape recorder. He hit the rewind button. The unit shimmied as it began rewinding the tape. The phone continued buzzing, causing various things on his desk to hum and vibrate. He let out a loud audible sigh as he grabbed his pen and slid his notepad closer. With a heavy sigh, he wrote, not schiz aff dis?
The phone in his drawer stopped buzzing. Dr. Cole slid the drawer open and looked at the two phones. He checked the one with the blue case, but there were no messages. The red-cased phone showed a series of notifications from an app called SAM. The doctor unlocked the phone and opened the app. The first message indicated he had a new message from someone named Justice. This was followed by a half-dozen more alerts regarding unlocked pictures.
The old Panasonic recorder shuddered as the tape finished rewinding. Dr. Cole ejected the cassette and looked at the date on the label–Easton-D 10/25/19 #11. He placed the tape on top of his notepad.
Dr. Cole returned the phone to the drawer and quickly made his way to the door. He opened it to find his wife at her desk, typing away at her computer. Luna emerged from her litterbox and jumped onto the windowsill where she could keep watch on the outside world. Dawn had thankfully left.
“I’m thinking ribs for lunch today,” Flo said. She didn’t bother to look up fro
m the screen.
“That sounds great.”
“I thought we could take a walk and get some fresh air.”
“I’d love to, but I need to sort through my notes from Dawn’s session before my next patient comes. It will have to be takeout today.”
“What on earth was that freaky doll?” Flo shook her head and pursed her lips. “I got so excited to see a baby in the stroller, but then I looked inside.”
“It’s part of her therapy. Sort of.”
“Mm-hmmm.” Flo always emphasized the second half of that acknowledgment, dragging it out a bit longer than most people. She shook her head and sighed. “That lipstick shade was all wrong. And her hair? That girl needs a beautician. Pronto.”
“Her hair? What about it?”
“Winston! I swear, there are days . . . .” Flo stood up, walked around her desk, and kissed her husband’s cheek. “You know you’d be lost without me.”
“I do.”
“I’ll call an order in for takeout on my way there. Do you want your usual?”
“Yes, please.”
Dr. Cole helped his wife into her coat and locked the door after she left. He then went back into his office and snapped the door’s lock in place. Once back at his desk, he grabbed the phone with the SAM app and began swiping through the pictures Justice had sent him. The shattered screen made the task somewhat clumsy to perform. As with many of these online profiles he came across, Justice chose not to share any face pictures. But he couldn’t complain about what he saw.
Dr. Cole glanced back at his office door to confirm it was locked. He sat in his chair, undid his belt buckle, lowered his zipper, and slid his hand into his pants and around his genitals. Using his other hand, he began swiping through Justice’s private pictures. He whispered, “What I wouldn’t give to be with you.”
Twenty Six
Doubt
Jacob held his fingers above his left eyebrow, pulling on the skin to form an arch. With his other hand, he used his electric trimmer to remove any stray hairs, creating a perfectly sculpted eyebrow to match the right one he’d just finished trimming. He stepped back from the vanity mirror, turning his face back and forth to be sure the brows matched. Satisfied with the look, Jacob let his eyes drift to the scar running through his lip and cheek. He’d already used concealer and bronzer to make it less noticeable. Jacob added a bit more bronzer, sighed, and turned off the light.