by Robyn Carr
John leaned toward Jack. “What are you doing here? You said you wanted to talk about it. Mel led me to believe—”
“I know. Mel led you to believe I was on board with this and wanted to know the particulars. Listen, John—that’s not how it is. I told her I didn’t like the idea. That we didn’t need more children. I told her if she wanted to adopt a kid that otherwise wouldn’t have a family, I could probably be talked into that, but…” He shook his head.
“What part of this bothers you? Because it’s a reasonable alternative for a woman who can’t physically give birth to her own offspring.”
“What puts me off is my wife—all excited about another baby, and she’s not even having it! She wasn’t this excited or upbeat when she got caught with our own. It’s weird, John, and I’m worried about her. We were fine with what happened with the hysterectomy—disappointed, but fine with it. ” Jack rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I don’t know what it is, John. I’d do anything Mel asked me if it meant a lot to her, especially if we hadn’t been able to have children of our own. I’d fill up your little cup in the masturbatorium. I’d probably want to pass on watching some woman I don’t know give birth to my child, but for Mel I’d go through with the thing, but this isn’t what we need. Something’s wrong, John. And I don’t know what it is.”
John was leaning back in his chair. He picked up a pen and fiddled with it. He leaned farther back and frowned more as he listened to Jack talk. Finally he asked, “Has she had a hard time accepting her hysterectomy?”
“Like how?”
John shrugged. “Crying? Anger? Just plain complaining that her gut feels empty? Loss of libido? Anything?”
Jack shook his head. “Nothing at all. She breezed right through it. I hadn’t heard a word about it until she came to the bar one afternoon and announced we were having another baby. And that we were going to do it in a very innovative thirty-thousand-dollar way with a stranger. It was like she took on a whole new, all-hyped-up personality. Not herself. Not at all.”
“Oh, brother,” John said, hanging his head. “Jack, I’m sorry. I think I might have gotten caught up in the whole thing right along with Mel. Try to understand—it made me feel so good to provide this option to couples.”
“Am I overreacting? Am I just some wimp who won’t do what has to be done? Because I don’t think I’m that kind of husband. Something about this and the way Mel is all worked up about it just doesn’t feel right. I want her to be happy, but I want her to be normally happy.”
“And it just doesn’t seem like that’s the case?”
He shook his head. “She’s all over this thing. She’s already asked Brie to look into the legalities so she can be in charge of the negotiating and the contract. It’s a puzzle to me and I keep looking for the missing pieces….”
“Missing pieces?” John asked.
“You know—if we’d talked about a much larger family before the hysterectomy I could understand this—but I always thought she was okay with our two. She’s a busy midwife and shuffling kids between the two of us is complicated sometimes. Or—maybe if she’d brought it up as a suggestion and wanted to talk about it, think about it, but that didn’t happen, either. She’d made up her mind before she came to me with the idea. What don’t I get here?”
“What she’s feeling,” John said.
“She’s feeling like she wants a baby, right now, no matter how inconvenient it is—and she wants it to be ours.”
“She might be covering up a feeling of loss with plans to have a baby with a surrogate,” John suggested.
“That’s what I told Brie—that Mel seems to be determined to beat this thing, to be in control of having a baby, even if she can’t have it herself. Did you know that Mel and her late husband had a bunch of fertilized ova stored in some freezer in L.A.? They’d tried the whole in vitro thing, but in Mel’s uterus. I keep asking myself—is it just because for someone like Mel, this is business as usual? Or is she trying to get beyond the whole hysterectomy by proving it won’t stop her from having as many children as she wants? Like she’s in denial about some things.” He shook his head. “Not only haven’t I ever been up against anything like this before in my life, I have no idea how to deal with it.”
“You have to be honest with her, Jack. You have to tell her you don’t want to.”
Jack leaned back in his chair and stretched out one long leg till his booted foot hit the desk. “There’s the problem. I told her. Several times. She’s not listening to me at all. She pats my hand like a patient grandmother and tells me to keep an open mind and talk to John about it.”
“Well, there you go,” John said, standing up. “You talked to me.”
“Not with an open mind,” Jack said, also standing. “Now what?”
“Now you have to talk to your wife and tell her the truth—you’re not going to do it because you don’t think it needs to be done. Get the cards out on the table. All the facts—this wasn’t an issue until recently. Make sure it isn’t more about losing fertility, losing an organ, than about wanting more children. You have to tell her, Jack—you’re not a participant. Have a real honest talk. Maybe she is in denial. She might be running scared from the grief that’s pretty normal in women who go through hysterectomies right in the midst of their childbearing years.”
“Aw, Jesus,” Jack said. “I’ve been through some serious grief with Mel. Her dead husband, you know. I can’t say I look forward to something like that again. Maybe it would be easier to just visit the masturbatorium…”
“Some women,” John said, interrupting, “go through a serious adjustment when they face the end of their childbearing years. It isn’t just in the case of hysterectomies. Some women in menopause feel that with the absence of their periods. When they have to use lubricants, facing the end of all that womanly stuff of youth, they feel that they’re just not as much of a woman. They feel like failures, like life is passing them by. I suggested a good lubricant to one of my patients and she said her husband rejected the idea, that if it wasn’t natural he wasn’t interested—he felt she wasn’t in the mood if she didn’t lubricate like when they were twenty. I told her to send him in to talk to me—that it was normal for a fifty-eight-year-old woman to be drier than a twenty-eight-year-old woman. Sometimes they feel old age staring them in the face…. They feel like grandmothers when they’re way too young to feel that way. One woman cried in my office and said, “I’m way too young to be this old!” They worry that their femininity and youth are slipping away. It isn’t logical, but it’s real.” He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s just hormones and we have to make adjustments. Sometimes I prescribe antidepressants for a while.”
“I’m not doing my job if she feels that way….”
John just laughed. “You can’t control everything, Jack. Just take a media study—wrinkles and gray hair on men tend to make them look more worldly and powerful, but the world sees the same thing in women as the end. It’s not so, but it can be an emotional battle for some women.”
“That just doesn’t seem like Mel,” Jack said. “She’s so levelheaded….”
“If you’ve already told her you don’t like this idea and yet she’s made an appointment to have eggs harvested—is that levelheaded?”
“God,” Jack said, dropping his gaze to the floor.
“Sometimes counseling helps. Sometimes just a husband’s tender reinforcement that she’s the woman you want no matter how her body changes…Listen, let me know if you need help. But for Mel’s sake—face it down. Get to the bottom of this.”
Jack was silent for a long moment. He took a deep breath. He stuck out his hand to shake John’s and said, “Thanks. You were absolutely zero help.”
John laughed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it easier.”
“Not as sorry as me.”
“Good luck. But really, if it doesn’t work out, call me. I’m willing to get in this with you two, but I’d like to be sure what we’re dealing with, for her
sake. Mel is really important to me, too.”
“Now, that might help. I appreciate it.”
Aiden was still feeling a bit melancholy by the time he got back to Luke’s. He saw that Luke, Shelby and Art were sitting on the porch at the house, and Luke gave a wave. Aiden walked over. “How are you feeling?” he asked Shelby.
“Ready,” she said with a smile.
“And how are you feeling?” Aiden asked Luke.
“Ready and so not ready,” he said.
Aiden chuckled and looked at Art. “And good morning, Art. How are you feeling this morning?”
Art took a drink of his diet soda and said, “I want to get married with Netta.”
Luke instantly lost all the color in his face and groaned. Shelby, however, just ran a hand over her big belly. “I don’t think so, Art,” she said. “You shouldn’t get married now. We need your help around here—especially with the baby coming. Besides, it’s hard to be married to someone who lives in Fortuna if you don’t drive a car.”
“Oh,” he said. Then he turned to Luke. “Should I drive a car?”
“No!” Luke said harshly, clearly in a panic.
“We’ll drive you wherever you need to go, Art,” Shelby said more calmly. “Don’t worry about that.”
“Okay,” he said. “You’ll drive me to Netta’s house?”
“Of course,” she said, smiling. “I’d be happy to. In fact, I’ll call Ellen and ask if Netta can come to the Fourth of July picnic in town. Would you like that?”
He smiled. “That would be good.”
“Consider it done,” Shelby said. “It will be fun to get to know her.”
Aiden chuckled and sat down on the porch steps. “Art, why don’t you go see if the fish are biting.”
“I’m on my break,” he said. Art was very careful of rules and routine. He liked following instructions, especially Luke’s.
“It’s okay,” Luke said. “Go ahead if you feel like it.”
“I feel like it,” Art said with a smile. And he hefted himself up and lumbered off, stopping at the front of his cabin to grab his rod and reel.
When he was out of earshot, Aiden said, “Try not to worry so much, Luke. I think Art’s pretty happy to be talking to Netta again. Ellen suggested we all just keep an eye on them and see how the renewed relationship is shaping up, make sure they’re not headed for trouble or anything. But she also said there was no indication from Netta’s behavior that she had a real active libido. Maybe this is something Netta mentioned to Art—Art’s been talking to her on the phone, right?”
Luke nodded. “I have to punch in the numbers for him. They don’t seem to talk that much, but they like being on the phone.”
“Well, don’t worry. Maybe you should ask to drop in to Ellen’s support group a few times. Pick up some very important information—stuff that people just don’t know. Things I didn’t know, and I thought I was up on some of this stuff.”
“Like what?” Luke asked.
“Well—here’s something. I know I told you Netta’s on birth control as a precaution, but not because she might accidentally have sex with some boyfriend like Art. It helps with PMS, for one thing. And to protect her from pregnancy in a worst-case scenario. Like sexual abuse—rape. There are predators out there who look for vulnerable women like Netta and her roommates.”
“Oh, God!” Luke nearly roared, standing up fast as a shot. “You gotta be kidding me!”
“I had a similar reaction, but I managed not to stand up and shout about it. Made me think about things. It’s a very dark, very tragic reality. Netta, by all accounts, is very eager to please—what’s she going to do if a bunch of high school boys tell her to meet them after school? And—it’s illegal to sterilize a mentally challenged woman…To get her an abortion would be a legal nightmare and impossible without her consent, which someone like Netta wouldn’t be able to give. To let her give birth to a rapist’s baby could be an even worse trauma. Her caretakers are taking the only precautions they can to keep her safe in a dangerous world. I’m sure there are a million more things to understand.”
Luke’s face was actually red. “Aiden, if I ever came face-to-face with a man who would sexually molest a mentally challenged woman, I don’t know if I could keep from—”
Aiden stood, as well. “I understand completely. Listen, you’ve done a great job with Art and he’s content, anyone can see that,” Aiden said. “But I think you and Shelby would benefit from getting to know Ellen and Bo and maybe, down the road when there’s time, you should try out that support group.”
“Yeah,” Luke said. “Yeah…”
“Try not to worry too much, Luke. Art’s not going to marry Netta. And it’s good he has a friend.”
“I might have been a little tense lately—Mom being around, Art wanting to marry someone, Shelby ready to have a baby…”
“Ya think?” Shelby asked with a smile. “I’ll call Ellen and offer to pick up Netta for the picnic, if Netta wants to come. It’ll be fun.”
“I should do it, baby,” Luke said. “You’re too pregnant.”
“To drive a car?” Aiden and Shelby asked at the same time.
Aiden turned and went to his cabin, chuckling as he went. He flipped on his laptop, signed on to his e-mail account and found an e-mail from someone he didn’t recognize. He opened it and read, Aiden—I have to talk to you. It’s urgent. It’s more than urgent. It’s about our divorce. Call me at once. Here is my cell number. Annalee
He sat down and typed, No. Go away. Pretend I’m dead.
Within five minutes he heard a ping, alerting him of new mail. I’d love to, but that won’t work. Call me at once!!!
Despite Erin’s lack of sleep and her desire to spend the rest of her life in bed with Aiden, she was thrilled to see Marcie. Her sister looked absolutely beautiful—just as round as could be and happier than Erin had ever seen her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright and her laugh quick. Ian was bursting with both pride and a very special soft attentiveness toward his wife. Those two, who had been through so much, had reached a place of peace and contentment in their lives, in their marriage, and it gave Erin great satisfaction to have helped them along.
She didn’t realize that she was looking a bit different to Marcie and Ian. She was calm and fulfilled, a lot more relaxed than was typical for her. It was something she could feel but didn’t know would show on her face, in her lithe movements, in her twinkling eyes and secret smile. After their initial hugs of greeting, she poured them all iced fruit drinks and suggested they sit out on the deck to watch the sunset. Ian and Marcie went first, Erin following with a big aluminum soup pot and a metal spoon, which she casually put beside her chaise.
“Uh, Erin—what’s that for?” Ian asked.
“Oh, I have that bear.”
Ian and Marcie exchanged looks, then looked back at Erin. “What bear?”
“I told you about the bear,” she said. “You know—the one in the house?”
“I think you might’ve forgotten to mention that….”
And then she tried to recall. Actually, she’d talked to them daily but had been leaving out anything in her summer at the cabin that had to do with Aiden, so she’d left out many things. But she was going to introduce him to her sister and brother-in-law, so she had better catch them up a bit. “Well, remember the vagrant who caused my concussion?” she began. By the end of her explanation and story, leaving out the more delicious details, they were both staring at her with wide eyes and open mouths. “What?” Erin asked.
“You fell in love,” Marcie said softly.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Erin returned with a flip of her hand. “I’m simply hiking and biking with someone and allowing him the privilege of chasing my bear out of the kitchen. By the way, I’m sorry about the cookies. I know how much you like them, but I was afraid to make more.”
“You fell in love with a vagrant who turned out to be a doctor and you’re like a completely different person,” Mar
cie said. “Erin, you’re all soft and cuddly.”
“Oh, pooh—you’re just very pregnant and sentimental.”
“When do we meet him?” Ian wanted to know.
“Well—I have you guys in town for the weekend and he has tons of family at his brother’s for the weekend and longer, but I guess we’ll all be at the Fourth of July picnic at Jack’s on Monday. Try not to embarrass me by making too much of this. All right?”
“All right,” Marcie said, grinning from ear to ear.
Aiden had had total peace in the eight years since his divorce. He hadn’t been able to find a woman to settle down with, but he’d been extremely pleased that he hadn’t had to deal with that whackjob Annalee. Well, apparently that was over—in true Annalee fashion. He should never have responded to her e-mail.
What followed were literally hundreds of e-mails. Call me immediately! I have to talk to you! You don’t understand how urgent this is—and I’m not telling you anything until I talk to you and hear your voice!
He knew she was cutting and pasting, or maybe she’d set up her computer to keep sending every five seconds, but that didn’t diminish the panic it threatened to fill him with. Just the thought of having her anywhere near his life at this time made him want to run as fast and as far as he could.
The only two people who could possibly understand his panic were his brothers Sean and Luke—the only two who had ever actually met her in the flesh. He had called them both—he’d said something like “I got in some trouble, got married to a nutcase a couple of months ago and now I’m working on a divorce, and I haven’t told Mom.” Luke, who had gone through his own horrific marriage/divorce crisis at roughly the same age, took some leave and flew to San Diego to make sure Aiden was all right. Aiden wasn’t too all right and Luke called in Sean.
Try as he might to get her to leave him alone, Annalee kept coming around. When Luke met her, he asked, “Holy shit, Aiden! Is she human?” He saw how beautiful and sneaky Annalee was and couldn’t believe she was real. Sean was the one who said, “Buy her off. You can make her go away with money.” They even offered to pool their funds to finance her departure, but Aiden hadn’t needed financial help. He’d been on a boat for two years; his money had been going in the bank.