by MJ Howson
After getting dressed, Jacob checked his calendar on his phone. The date was Tuesday, November 5th. He scanned his schedule for the rest of the week. He had tomorrow morning free, but then back-to-back clients from noon through five o’clock, giving him very little time to get home, shower, and then back into the city to bartend. As he went to pocket his phone, a notification popped up from his bank warning him of a low balance.
“Fuck,” Jacob said. “The transfer is today.” Jacob sighed and took a moment to open his banking app and moved funds to replenish his checking account. He pocketed his phone and said, “I’ll be glad when this is over.”
Jacob grabbed his coat and turned off the bedroom light. He stopped by Sean’s bedroom and frowned. The flashing light coming from beneath the closed door, along with the muffled crashes and booms, told him Sean was engrossed in another video game. Jacob twisted the doorknob and flung the door open.
“Another Friday night home?” Jacob asked.
Sean was sprawled out flat on his stomach, an X-Box controller in his hand, staring at the television on the dresser. He paused the game and briefly glanced over before taking a second, longer look. Sean said, “You’re all decked out.”
Jacob entered Sean’s room, held his arms out wide, and slowly spun in a circle. He wore skin-tight black denim jeans and a form-fitting emerald and black pinstriped long-sleeved shirt. Jacob smiled and said, “Hugo Boss. I bought it today. You like it?”
“You always look good.” Sean restarted his game, turning his attention back to the screen. “Hot date?”
“I’m going over to Dawn’s.”
“Dawn?” Sean looked over at Jacob and frowned. The television suddenly flashed red, and the sound of an explosion filled the room. Sean looked back to see his character had died, and the game was over. He dropped his controller and sat upright. “I thought you two were on a break.”
“A break?” Jacob walked to Sean’s bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “No. We’ve just been working through a few things.”
“Oh. You never mention her anymore. And you’re never here. I just figured you’d moved on.”
“No. Work’s just been super busy.”
“That never seemed to stop you before.”
“What?”
“You used to spend at least one if not more nights a week at her place.” Sean paused and scratched his cheek. “What’s going on?”
“It’s . . . .” Jacob lowered his head and sighed. He let his eyes wander around his roommate’s bedroom, unsure of how much to tell him. “It’s that stupid doll.”
“What doll?”
“The therapy doll. I didn’t tell you?”
“You never tell me anything.”
Jacob crossed his arms and shook his head. Although Jacob wouldn’t acknowledge it, Sean was right. Jacob tended to be selective on what information he chose to share. He looked at Sean and said, “So, she got this doll to help her deal with the miscarriage. The doc told her to roleplay being a mom with the thing. And she’s kind of taken it to an extreme.”
“How?” Sean crossed his legs and leaned closer to Jacob. “Does she feed it?”
“No. God, I hope not. No. She . . . she just treats it like it’s real.”
“Isn’t that what she’s supposed to do?”
“No. Well, yes. She’s . . . she’s just. It’s like she’s become obsessed with it.”
“Maybe you’re just jealous.”
Sean chuckled as he picked up his controller and reset his game. He uncrossed his legs and spread out flat on his stomach, facing the television.
“Fuck you.” Jacob smacked Sean on his ass. He stood up and glanced at the video game on the television. “You haven’t seen how she acts around it. She’s . . . different.”
“Sometimes different is good.”
Jacob rolled his eyes as Sean started playing his video game. He glanced at his watch to check the time.
“Are you staying there tonight?” Sean asked.
“I don’t know. Why? You got a hot date? Hosting?”
“No. I have to get up early tomorrow. I’m heading into Manhattan.”
“Hot date?” Jacob asked with a chuckle.
“No.” Sean sighed. “My uncle asked me to come see him. Last week the doctors confirmed it’s Alzheimer’s. Did I tell you that?”
Jacob shrugged but didn’t say anything.
“I’m not sure what’s going on,” Sean said. “He sounded nervous. That’s not like him.”
“You keep making excuses to never leave the apartment.” Jacob walked to the doorway, turned, and said, “You need to get out more, Sean. A sweet guy like you should be married by now. Or at least have a steady boyfriend.”
∞∞∞
The doors to the Spire’s penthouse express elevator closed with a silky whoosh. Jacob glanced in the mirrored wall and adjusted the fit of his olive green Italian wool bomber jacket. He frowned at the sloppiness of his gelled hair and spent a few moments trying to keep it slicked back in place.
During the ride to Dawn’s apartment, Jacob felt a sense of dread wash over him. His chat with Sean earlier weighed heavily on his mind. He’d spent very little time with Dawn these past few weeks. Deep down, he knew why.
The elevator glided to a gentle stop. Jacob stepped into the lobby and paused to give himself one final look in the mirror. He leaned forward and ran a finger across his scar, twisting his head to see how the edges reflected the lighting. Jacob closed his eyes and allowed himself to momentarily recall the ebony-handled straight razor blade that sliced his face and ended his modeling career. The sound of the door to Dawn’s apartment opening caused him to open his eyes. He turned to see Dawn smiling, standing in the doorway.
“Wow,” Jacob said. “You look . . . colorful.”
Dawn, decked out in a full-length floral-patterned evening gown, stepped into the foyer. Her vibrant dress flowed as she walked to Jacob. She said, “Thanks.”
Jacob took Dawn by her hands and looked her up and down. The flowery dress popped in shades of red, blue, and green leaves and petals. He said, “I can’t think of the last time I saw you in a dress that wasn’t black or white.”
“It’s from my mother’s 2006 collection. She was inspired by Van Gogh’s floral paintings.” Dawn stepped back and spun around, causing her gown to twirl and float. “Doesn’t the material flow beautifully?”
“And is that makeup?”
“It’s just a bit of lipstick and eyeliner.”
“You used to save that for special occasions.” Jacob smiled and scratched the stubble on his chin. Dawn seemed like a different person. He pulled her close and kissed her gently on her lips. Dawn buried her face against his chest and held him softly. Jacob ran his nose across the top of her head and chuckled. He said, “You still haven’t dyed your hair.”
Dawn laughed and pried herself away from Jacob. Her hair cascaded past her shoulders, her black roots now three inches long. She said, “I plan to color it. Eventually.”
Jacob slid his arm around Dawn, and the two went into her apartment. The fireplace in the living room sparkled, and 24K Magic by Bruno Mars descended from the overhead speakers. He glanced up at one of the speakers and asked, “No jazz music? Wow, you have changed.”
“Something different,” Dawn said.
Jacob stopped near the spiral staircase and allowed Dawn to continue to the kitchen. He looked around for the stroller or Eve, relieved to find neither. Jacob wondered if, perhaps, Dawn had finally started to let go of her fixation with the doll.
“Can I get you a glass of wine?” Dawn asked.
“That would be great.”
Jacob unzipped his jacket and tossed it across the back of a loveseat before joining Dawn in her kitchen. Dawn opened a bottle of merlot and poured a glass, and handed it to Jacob. She then filled a second one for herself.
“Red?” Jacob asked. “Since when did you start drinking red wine?”
Dawn shrugged and said, “Recently. I ca
n’t remember.”
Jacob raised his glass, and they clinked them together.
“I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve seen one another,” Dawn said. “So many texts and calls.”
“My schedule’s been crazy.”
Dawn led Jacob over to the living room and sat on the loveseat near the fireplace. She patted the empty seat beside her. Jacob stopped and looked around, inspecting the room.
“New pillows?” Jacob asked, pointing to the burgundy chenille throw pillows on the living room furniture. He sat beside Dawn. “Black leather. Red pillows. How devilish of you.”
“Like I said, I’ve been having fun with colors lately.”
“Have you been painting?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see?”
“No. Not yet. It’s not ready.” Dawn took another sip of wine. “I’m still not happy with it.” She glanced over at the darkened dining room and frowned. “So, tell me about this crazy schedule of yours.”
“My clients. And the bar, of course.”
“Of course.” Dawn bit her upper lip as she let her eyes settle on Jacob’s. “Have you taken on more clients?”
“A few. They seem to be scattered all over the city.” Jacob took a moment to study Dawn. Something felt different about her, and it wasn’t just the clothes and makeup. “So how about you? How’s therapy?”
“It’s okay. We talked about you a bit in my last session.”
“Well, I hope it was all good.” Jacob smiled a crooked grin. The smile faded as Dawn looked off toward the dining room. “Or not, I guess.”
“I told my therapist that you don’t like Eve.”
“It’s just a doll.”
“She’s more than that, Jacob.” Dawn slid closer and took Jacob by his hands. “You know she’s part of my therapy.”
“I know, Dawn. It’s just that, well, it’s been going on for two months now.” Jacob brushed his fingers through Dawn’s hair. He could see her eyes welling with tears. “Did the doctor say I should be more involved with the doll?”
“Um, now that you mention it, he didn’t. I told him I was worried that your rejection of Eve meant that you’d make a bad father.”
“A father?” Jacob felt the hairs on his arms tingle as memories of the birthday night argument flooded his mind. He stopped brushing Dawn’s hair and leaned back against the loveseat. “What did he say?”
“He sort of reminded me that a doll and a baby aren’t the same thing.”
“He’s got a point.” Jacob sighed, somewhat relieved to hear he and the doctor were on the same page. “You need to listen to him, Dawn. He’s the expert.”
“But Eve–”
“Is temporary. You know that, right?”
“I . . . I suppose.” Dawn lowered her head and looked away. “But when I’m with Eve, I know I’d make a good mother.” She looked at Jacob and added, “I am a good mother.”
Jacob shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he tried to process Dawn’s assertion. He wondered what her doctor thought of this behavior and if it was a normal part of her therapy.
“Did the doctor give you an end date?” Jacob asked.
“For therapy?”
“No. For the doll.”
“An end date for Eve?” Dawn looked up, her focus back on the darkened dining room in the far corner of the apartment. “No. No, I can’t even think of stopping. Not yet. She’s prepping me for when we can finally have an Evelyn of our own.”
Jacob was about to speak when the music paused.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” the voice assistant asked.
“Cancel!” Dawn shook her head with frustration. “I really need to find out how to change that.”
Jacob tried to force a smile on his face, but inside he felt disappointment raging throughout his body. Dawn’s miscarriage happened six months ago. She’d been to what he guessed to be a dozen therapy sessions. He couldn’t understand this obsession with the doll and building a family.
“When’s your next session?” Jacob asked.
“End of the week. Did . . . did you want to join me?”
“I doubt I can clear my schedule.”
“Oh. Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m thinking of canceling.”
“Why?”
“I just feel I get more from my time with Eve than I do from being with him.”
“Have you told him this?”
“Dr. Cole? No.”
“Maybe you should.” Jacob reached over and gave Dawn’s hand a gentle squeeze. Her touch felt cold and distant. He found himself bored by all this talk of therapy and family. Jacob glanced over at the wall of windows overlooking the Hudson River. He said, “The seasons go by too quickly. I can’t believe it’s already November.”
“I know. It seems like Labor Day was only yesterday. Thanksgiving’s only a few weeks away.” Dawn looked toward the blackness of the dining room and frowned. She turned to Jacob and asked, “Maybe we could spend it together?”
“Um, sure. I guess. I honestly haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Maybe I can try and cook a turkey?”
“Oh, now that would be a sight.”
Jacob put his arm around Dawn and pulled her closer.
“We’ll keep it simple,” Dawn said. “Just the three of us.”
“Three?”
Dawn nodded toward the dining room and said, “You, me, and Eve, of course.”
Jacob glanced over at the dining room table. The chandelier above the table was off, but in the darkness, he could now see Eve. The doll’s sapphire blue eyes reflected the glass crystals from the fireplace.
“Of course,” Jacob said, the disappointment in his voice on full display.
“Oh, stop. It will be fun.” Dawn kissed Jacob on his cheek. “Excuse me.”
Jacob watched Dawn head to the nearby powder room. Once she went inside, he stood up and walked over to the dining room. There were two place settings for dinner. Eve sat on the tabletop facing the plates and glasses. Her arms were positioned straight ahead as if she were waiting for someone to lift her. Jacob leaned forward and said, “You’re becoming a problem. What the hell am I going to do with you?”
Twenty Seven
Suzie
Dawn anxiously chewed on the wooden tip of her paintbrush. Her latest creation was her most colorful take on what she now considered a sunrise between two mountains. The hills were shades of dark and light green, the brush strokes small, layered, and tight. Dawn loved to experiment with round and flat brushes in various sizes to create depth to her paintings. The rising sun blazed a deep red, spilling into a shimmering blue sky above. Past iterations covered the studio walls, many in monotone shades or combining two colors at most.
“It’s just not speaking to me,” Dawn said, her voice echoing off the walls. Unlike most nights, Dawn had opted not to listen to music this evening. She looked over at Eve, sitting on the chair beside the doorway. “You know?”
Eve sat in silence, her sapphire blue eyes listlessly staring at the wall of windows. Outside, lights from the buildings across the Hudson River peppered the blackness of the night and reflected off the water.
“I think we’re done for the night,” Dawn said.
Dawn grabbed her phone to see if Jacob had texted her. The screen’s wallpaper showed a picture of Eve sleeping in her crib. There were no notifications. The time showed as 9:45 p.m. Dawn unlocked the phone and sent Jacob a text.
Thanksgiving is this Thursday. Are you joining us?
Dawn set the phone down and brought her brushes and palette knife to the utility sink. Jacob’s distance all month had been troubling. He still hadn’t fully committed to spending the holiday with her and Eve. Dawn finished cleaning up and returned to her phone to find a response from Jacob.
Sure.
Someone’s tone never came across in a text, but Dawn felt instantly disappointed in his simple answer. She started to reply to ask him about the meal but stopped and deleted what she wrot
e.
“What’s with him?” Dawn asked Eve. “All I get lately are one-word answers or excuses. The last time he was here, it was obvious he didn’t like you sitting at the table with us for dinner. Did you notice?”
Eve sat quietly in the chair, her gaze fixated on the view out beyond the windows. Dawn frowned and walked over to Eve.
“I wonder if he’s jealous of you,” Dawn said as she began to fuss with Eve’s red locks. “Should I ask him? Or ask the doctor?” Dawn picked up Eve and waited. “Nothing tonight, huh?”
Dawn carried Eve to the kitchen and got a glass of water to take to bed. She ascended the spiral staircase to the nursery on the second floor, stopping at the doorway.
“I think you should sleep here tonight, Eve,” Dawn said, cradling the doll and glass of water in her arm. She reached for the crystal doorknob. “It’s good practice.”
“Take me upstairs,” Eve said.
“But you should be sleeping in a crib. Like a real baby.”
“Read to me.”
“Read to you?” Dawn sighed as she glanced around the hallway. “I guess we could flip through the arts section of the paper. I heard there’s another new gallery opening. Maybe–”
“Read my diary.”
“Your diary?” Dawn frowned as she pulled her hand away from the doorknob. “Why?” She stroked Eve’s hair and adjusted the bow. “The stories are so boring. I’m sorry, Eve, but they are. Janet said I’d learn about you by reading it, but I’m not.”
“Read my diary.”
Dawn stared at the nursery door and then looked back into Eve’s eyes. She sighed and said, “Okay. It just better not be another birthday.”
Dawn carried Eve to the owner’s suite on the top floor. As she entered her bedroom, she asked Evelyn to secure the apartment for the evening. She placed Eve on her bed against a pillow and then went into the bathroom with her glass of water. The prescription pills from Dr. Cole were in their usual spot beside the sink. Dawn sighed as she popped the bottles open and swallowed the tablets. She noticed the sapphire pendant hanging from the cabinet pull. Dawn frowned, recalling Jacob’s one-word text from earlier. She spent a few minutes removing her lipstick and eyeliner she’d worn for the day and then returned to her bedroom.