by Michele Hauf
“Yeah. That’s pretty much what happened to me. So, that’s illegal?” Grace asked.
“What came next was. He’d deliver healthy babies, sell them – which is illegal – to desperate families, then tell the new parents the baby had died. Of course, that meant that he had a child he could resell many times over.”
“The scum!” Dusty hissed.
“Ah,” the doctor continued, “but it didn’t stop there. He sedated the mothers so they didn’t know their babies were still alive. While he was in them, he sterilized them, just as he did with you.”
“But why?” Grace asked.
“Not only sterilized them but kept them as breeding stock. This way, he could promote a healthy vessel to prospective parents looking for surrogates. No chance of the mother having a child from her own eggs. He was a white slaver. You’re lucky to be free. Many young women who went to his clinics to deliver children for adoption are still missing.”
“Yeah, well, there was some intervention there. My friend got in the middle of that,” Grace said, then looked at Dusty and grimaced.
“Was he an accomplice?” the doctor asked, leaning forward in his seat, eager to hear her answer. “Because if he was, he might have information that will help the authorities find these missing women.”
“No, he didn’t aid and abet or anything like that, I’m sure. I don’t know where he is, though. I do know he’s the reason I’m free. From what my father told me, they were setting me up in a recovery house but told him I was going to be somewhere else. He found out where I was and sent my dad and Dusty to come and get me. So, back to my fertility…”
“Yes…”
“Does that mean that I can be my own surrogate or whatever you call it?”
“Yes, we can fertilize the eggs outside of your body and implant them. It’s called in vitro fertilization. We’ve been doing it since the late 70s. It’s pricey but relatively safe. It doesn’t work every time, but we can use your own eggs and his sperm. Does this sound like something you’d like to pursue?”
A sudden chill went up Grace’s arms. She looked at Dusty and saw that he looked like he was the one ready to vomit this time. “Not right now,” she said. “We’ll get back to you.”
Grace stood up and reached for Dusty’s hand. “Come on. I want to go home.” She looked at the doctor and blinked twice. A glimmer of familiarity sparked between them and then was gone. “Thanks for your time.”
She reached out for her queasy husband. “Come on,” she said and led him out of the office.
Once in the hallway, a dazed Dusty made his way to the fountain. “Just a sec. I’m thirsty.”
“Sure. Why don’t you go in the john and splash some water on your face, too. That might help.”
Grace paced while she waited outside the men’s bathroom. Nerves on edge, her hand flew towards her mouth. “Ah, to hell with it,” she grumbled, then chewed at her cuticle. “Damn baby thieves!”
“What’s wrong?” Dusty asked, seeing that she was back to her bad habit but positive that now was not the time to say, ‘Tabasco.’
“I think this doctor was in cahoots with Dr. Buddy. Did you see the way he was positively radiant when he said Buddy had been busted? He wants to find those baby-making mamas for himself! He’s got dozens, scores of couples looking for a ripe place to plant seeded eggs. I wouldn’t trust him to put my egg with your sperm back into my body, even if I watched the procedure from start to finish. Damn! Damn! Damn!”
“Grace, you’re going to have to trust someone, sometime,” Dusty said, his hand on her shoulder.
“Yeah, well, I trust you, my dad, Silas, and Papa Doc. Even if he’s been gone for four years, I’d trust Chuck, too. I know Papa Doc thinks he’s still alive, but I can’t believe he wouldn’t at least check in on me.”
“Um, Gracie, I think we need to talk,” Dusty said. “But not here. Let’s take a walk. You got me paranoid about security cameras now.”
“I do? When did I ever talk about security cameras?”
“Walk,” Dusty said. He put his arm around her shoulder, not willing to accept any discussion on the subject. “Outside, fresh air.” Traffic noises, people walking past us…
“Can we even get to the parking garage this way?” Grace asked.
“Yup,” Dusty said, pushing the door open for her.
“Why are you being so weird?”
Dusty put his hand on her shoulder and led her toward the little city park across the street. “Wait to talk.”
He spotted an empty picnic table and used a found newspaper to sweep off the bench seat. “Did you realize that after what he just said, our babies may still be alive?”
“Wait! What? Oh, my God! No! I mean, yes! They could still be alive?”
“Sounds reasonable to me. I know you got the chills talking to him. Did you recognize him or something?”
“Yes. I was sedated a lot of the time. Come to think of it, I remember going under and the anesthesiologist made a crack about Chuck’s upset stomach being morning sickness. Shit! He knows who I am!”
“Well, for right now, I’m going to agree with you about no invasive procedures to make a baby. Let’s give it a year or so and see if we can find our children,” Dusty said.
“I don’t know if it’s delayed maternal hormones or not, but I’m on a roll now!” Grace said.
Yeah, and now I don’t feel obligated to tell you that Chuck really is alive and well. That secret can come out later. I just hope I don’t trip myself up! The guys would kill me if I spilled the beans!
January 2, 1996
“Hal? Yeah, this is Roger. Hey, I hate to do this to you at the last minute like this, but we’re having a birthday party for Vickie Lynn tomorrow and wanted to know if you and your beautiful daughter and her husband wanted to come by and say hi. Yeah, well, I would have said something when I saw you, but Gloria was organizing it, and I didn’t want to step on her toes. Neither one of us thought about you until Vickie Lynn asked if we were going to go see that ‘ooni-corn’ lady again. Yeah, Grace really made an impression on her. Well, we’re still at the same place. Light snacks around four-ish if you don’t have to work too late. I thought you and those old guys might want to pop in and sing happy birthday to my little miracle baby, too. There won’t be that many kiddos around but there’ll be plenty of hors d’oeuvres, cake, and sangria for everyone. Bring the gang. No, don’t worry about upsetting anyone or stirring up hard feelings. I think Gloria wants to see if you’re still the hunk you were in college. Yeah, well, put a hat on so that shiny bald spot doesn’t blind her. Hey! Someone in the family had to keep all his hair! All right. See at least three of you tomorrow, then.”
Knock! Knock!
“Hey, Dad. What’s going on?” Dusty asked Hal. “You look like you just sold your portfolio at twice its estimated value.”
“Nah, I’m not even thinking about work until half-way into January. This being semi-retired at forty-five is great! Hey, how’s Gracie doing?”
“She’s still bummed that she was sterilized, but she does have a fire under her that keeps her getting up in the morning. She’s up at daylight or earlier, searching the internet for news stories about in vitro fertilization procedures in other countries. At least it’s keeping her from depression. I’d rather see her fuming than a lump under the covers.”
“Yeah,” Hal agreed. “You and me and everyone else. Three years was enough! So, the reason I’m so perky is that we’ve been invited to a birthday party. Remember Grace’s little cousin we met at the carousel a couple of weeks ago?”
“Your cousin’s daughter?”
“Yup. She’s four-years-old tomorrow. Roger and his wife invited us over for her birthday party.”
“Um, Dad… You do know what tomorrow is, don’t you?”
“The day after today?” Hal quipped, then looked down at his watch to verify the date. “Oh, crap.”
“Yup, it’s the day she lost the babies. Oh, and before you tell her what’s goi
ng on, can I tell you something?”
“Of course.” Hal pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. “Do you need anything? Are the guys downtown giving you fits?”
“No, they’re cool. They got over me being a blue-collar guy right after I pointed out the holes in their proposals. Now they call me The Natural.”
“Good for you. Now, what’s on your mind?”
“We told you about the doctor’s visit. Sort of. What Grace didn’t tell you was that the specialist she saw was the anesthetist who was there when she had the babies. He was sort of fishing for where Chuck was. You see…Well, this is a biggie. This guy said that this Dr. Buddy who delivered Grace would tell the adopting parents that the babies had died. This way, he got to keep all their money, and still had babies to sell to other parents.”
“Oh, shit!” Hal slumped sideways in his chair, nearly fainting while seated. “And you think that maybe her twins didn’t die? That they’re out there somewhere?”
“That’s the first thing I thought of, too. It didn’t hit her right away, though. She’d already been dealing with so much guilt about doing something wrong while pregnant and that’s why they died, that she couldn’t see the proverbial forest for the trees when he mentioned it. So, somewhere out there, there might be a couple of her children.”
“And we don’t even know if they’re boys or girls or one of each…” Hal said.
“I was, and still am, going to let her tell you my suspicions in her own time. She didn’t ask me not to tell you, so I’m not betraying a confidence. Still, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let on we already had this conversation.”
“So, she’s really searching the internet for clues about her babies?”
“Not the babies, per se, but Dr. Buddy and his cohorts. It seems they had – or still have – a series of homes where they keep women to carry surrogate babies.”
“White slavery still exists,” Hal said softly. “Damn!”
“Hey! What are you doing here, Dad?” Grace asked.
Startled, Hal sat up and took a deep breath to compose himself, then grinned, remembering the original purpose of his visit. “Just talking with The Natural here. We’re invited to a birthday party tomorrow. Your little second cousin is having a birthday party, and we’re invited.”
“Vickie Lynn? Oh, that’s right! She’s so cute. She’s at that age where when you ask her name, she gives you her age. Ask her age, and she gives you her name. Is she going to be four or five? She showed me four fingers, but I don’t know if they taught her how old she was or would be.”
Hal shook his head and said, “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow when we count the candles, won’t we? Anyone for a shopping trip into the city to find her a gift?”
“We don’t need to,” Grace said. “I already have the perfect one. I have a stuffed pink unicorn that she’s going to love. I’ll just clean it up and add a big ribbon, and she’s good to go. As a matter of fact…”
Hal and Dusty watched as Grace’s face twitched in recall. “Yes…” Hal prompted.
“I got that doll for my fifth birthday! I’ve had it for nearly twenty years. Pinkie’s ready for a new home. She looks great on the shelf, but really needs someone to play with.”
Dusty and Hal both noticed her tears escaping but didn’t comment. They both knew Grace had been saving that magical stuffed animal for her own child. Giving it away – whether to a relative or not – meant that she was finally moving on.
“You’re right,” Hal said, standing up to hug her. “The perfect gift.”
“Here goes nothing,” Hal mumbled so only Papa Doc could hear.
Or so he thought.
“If only we could be that lucky,” Silas said softly. “I remember the last time I was here…”
The door opened swiftly at the soft tap of the brass knocker, as if someone was standing behind it, waiting. “Hey, there!” Roger said, hand out ready to greet whoever he saw first with a hearty handshake.
“Long time, no see,” Papa Doc said, then moved away so Silas could have his own moment of personal discomfort.
“Sounds like congratulations are about four – or is it five? – years too late,” Silas said, returning the firm grip with a minimal pump of the traditional handshake.
“Four. Vickie Lynn is four-years-old today. It doesn’t seem like it, though. Sometimes it seems like it was only yesterday she came into our lives. The next minute, it’s like she’s always been a part of our family. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when she grows up and moves away.”
“Do your best not to think about it,” Hal said, then stepped back.
“Enjoy them every minute,” Papa Doc added, his eyes misting. “One minute, they’re under your feet and you can’t wait for them to take off to school, the next, you’re wondering where they are.”
“Or worse,” Silas whispered, then grimaced, thinking of Papa Doc’s first son dead, killed by the second one who was in prison, the third one – Chuck – lying low and living off the grid somewhere in the backwoods of America.
Roger saw the familial interaction, like a visible electric current, a common thought moving from one man to the other. All four of them had been acquainted for more than twenty years, but those three now seemed more like the cousins he and Hal used to be. One man’s reflections were shared by the other two. Like an old married couple, these three were in sync, comfortable in their lives.
“I brought something for Vickie Lynn,” Grace said, holding up a bright bag stuffed with pink tissue paper. “It used to be mine but I’m sure she’ll love it.”
“She’ll love it even more, then,” Roger said, ushering her in. “A family heirloom.”
“Hello there, Dusty, is it?” he asked, letting the last of the family group in.
“Yes, sir,” Dusty said, then craned his neck to catch sight of the little birthday girl. “We love children and hope to have some of our own soon.”
“Well, I hope you don’t have to wait as long as Gloria and I did. Over fifteen years of trying and then, boom! A baby. Of course,” he whispered loud enough so the men could hear, “the trying was fun.”
Dusty felt his face redden, so held one finger up in agreement, covering most of his glow with the gesture.
“Oh, my!” Grace said, looking around the room. Dozens of unicorns filled the area, from piñatas to posters to the ice sculpture in the middle of a fountain of pink punch.
“Well, I may have gone a little overboard,” Gloria said, coming up to greet Grace.
“Yeah, well, they’re only young once. She may not appreciate this much attention when she’s a teenager, but for now, enjoy it.”
“Oh, I do enjoy it! I feel as if I’m in my second childhood. Oh, and you probably don’t remember me. I’m your Aunt Gloria, but please, just call me Gloria. No one needs to know we’re related that way.”
Grace chuckled, glad that Gloria didn’t want to bring up that her sister, Victoria, was her mother. “Yes, my father’s cousin’s wife is close enough to being my aunt, but Gloria works for me, too. Where’s our birthday girl?”
“Oh, she’s upstairs. I just got a nanny for her. Not that she really needs a nanny. Roger and I did everything for her since the day she was born. Elsa is more of her tutor. Most parents send their children away to preschool at four, but I’m not ready to part with her. Besides,” she whispered, “you never know what the children they’re associating with will be like. It’s not really the kids so much…” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “But some children’s parents…”
“Tell me about it. Or rather, let’s not. Where should I put this?”
Gloria took the bag Grace offered and set it on the table laden with exotically-wrapped gifts, a miniature battery-powered Rolls Royce with a huge pink ribbon parked beneath it.
“I’d say it sucks having a birthday so close to Christmas,” Grace said, “but it looks like she still managed to do well.”
Roger came over and put his hand on Grace’
s shoulder. “I think my wife gives her too much in the way of material goods, but we tell Vickie Lynn that she has to take care of what she has or we’ll give it away to someone who will appreciate it. So far, so good.”
“And here she comes now,” Gloria said, her smile bright at watching the young girl come down the steps one-by-one, poised as a real princess, her hand gently waving to the fifteen or so adults and half dozen children at the bottom of the stairs.
“Wow! What an entrance! And where did you get that dress?” Grace asked.
“One of my friends is a close friend of Christian Dior. He designed it for her. It’s my gift to her.”
“Oh, my. You might want to get her a life-sized doll made so when she grows out of it, the dress won’t go to waste.”
“Already commissioned,” Gloria said. “She’s getting a real twin…”
Gloria started coughing as soon as the word was out of her mouth, gagging on the memory that somewhere in the backwoods of Oregon and California, her daughter really did have a twin. Or rather, two.
Grace wrapped her arm around Gloria’s waist, ready to help her to a chair when she was waved off. “No, I’m fine. I just swallowed wrong,” she whispered hoarsely then looked up to watch her daughter continue her entrance.
Vickie Lynn was still taking her time descending the staircase, heeding the prompts from the nanny three feet behind her. “Smile, little one. Show those perfect teeth.”
However, when the miniature beauty queen spotted Grace, all poise and charm blew up into unbridled excitement and passion, arms waving and voice squealing. “Ooni-corn Lady! You came!”
Rushing down the last four steps, Vickie Lynn tumbled forward, her foot catching on the leading edge of the gown of pink chiffon, seed pearls, and lace. Six adults rushed to catch her, but it was Grace who wound up with her in her arms. “Are you all right?”
“You came!” Vickie Lynn said, swiping the curled ringlets out of her face with a sputter. “I asked Daddy for you for my present and he said you’d come. Maybe. But if you came, I couldn’t keep you. Are you sure you don’t want to live with me, Ooni-corn Lady? We can go ride the carousel all day long. That is if you drive us there. I got a car from my Aunt, but I can’t go past the front yard, Mommy said.”