Unholy Birth Read online

  “Whatever. She gets up early. I’m taking off. I’ll grab something at the plant. Take your time. You should really take the day off anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “To get yourself mentally prepared.”

  “I don’t need to mentally prepare. And I don’t intend to be one of those chronic complainers when I do get pregnant. If I do get pregnant,” I corrected.

  “You will,” she said. She kissed me on the cheek and started out.

  “Hey.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you remember me telling you about a candle lit in Eve’s window last night?”

  She shook her head.

  “No. When did you tell me that?”

  “It was late. I thought you were awake, but I guess you were talking in your sleep,” I said.

  “Candle?”

  “I thought so.”

  “She has no candles. Why would she light candles anyway? There’s nothing wrong with the lights in the casita. You probably saw the reflection of a star in the glass.”

  I thought about it and nodded. It made sense.

  “Yeah, probably.”

  “Don’t start getting hokey on me today,” she warned, then smiled and left.

  I sat there sipping coffee until I felt my body gradually waking up all over. Then I rose, showered, and dressed. I didn’t eat much for breakfast. My stomach felt like it had been turned into a beehive. Before I left, I stood by the patio door and gazed at the casita. Impulsively, I walked out, marched across the pool patio, and went to the casita door. I was surprised that it was locked. I didn’t even remember our having a key for it. Shading my eyes, I peered through the window. It was so neat inside. It looked like no one had been in it. I didn’t see any of Eve’s things about either. The bed was made and the pillow looked untouched, no evidence that she had lowered her head to it, not a crease in the blanket.

  When I stepped back, I noticed what looked like a spot on the inside of the glass. It suggested the residue of a candle flame, the sort of waxy glaze it might deposit flickering so close to it. It looked like a cross upside down. Was it just an ordinary smudge? Probably, I concluded. Get out of this, I told myself. This is not the day for it; this is not the time. I should be focused on one thing only, and if Willy suspected I wasn’t, she would surely be very upset. I needed her, needed her support and her love more than ever.

  Immediately after I arrived at our plant, I realized she didn’t have much time for any of my emotional problems anyway. There were electricians, plumbers, and a carpenter all working feverishly to adjust our equipment, add equipment, and get the plant redesigned for a much bigger operation.

  “Hey,” Willy shouted to me when she saw me enter. “There’s a new pile of invoices and we’ve had four orders this morning from our regulars. You have to get on the horn with that pain-in-the-ass manager at Breckman’s Produce, too. He’s moaning and groaning about the schedule of delivery we’ve requested. Use your feminine charm,” she added.

  “I thought you wanted me to take the day off.”

  “That was before I realized I was only one person. Besides, it will keep you from worrying and being nervous. And imagining things,” she added.

  “Thanks,” I said, and she laughed. She returned to work and I went into the office.

  She was right, of course, for the most part the work did keep me from thinking about what we would be doing tonight. But every time I took a breather, those concerns came rushing back to the forefront. The questions were like little creatures waiting in the corners of my mind for an opportunity to pounce.

  How did most heterosexual couples decide it was time to have a child? I wondered. Was the man usually the insistent one or the woman? I knew plenty of women who would snap back with, “You’re not the one who’s going to be losing her figure, carrying the baby, going through the labor.”

  On the other hand, there were women I had met who claimed they had felt at their best when they were pregnant. They raved about the wonder of having a life inside them and having that child come out of them. Would that all be true for me?

  Then there were those women who repeatedly failed, even with fertility drugs. I heard stories about that, about how difficult it was for them to go anywhere and see a pregnant woman. They were always wondering what it was about them that made it so difficult. It had to hurt their sense of themselves, their egos. Their very identity was in doubt. Could that happen to me if we failed the first and second and even third time? How many times would I try before giving up and what would it do to my relationship with Willy? I had no doubt she would deal with it fine. After all, this was still my idea originally. But would my sadness, my depression effect us, effect how she saw me?

  We weren’t bound by any in-sickness-and-in-health oaths, not that those who took those oaths seemed to feel so bound by them anyway these days. No, we were married in a different way, through the oaths we had taken with our eyes and our lips, our bodies and our very being. Whatever mysterious power drew people together went to work on us. Neither of us ever doubted it. Would we still feel that way in the coming months? How could I help but not be nervous?

  I dove back into my work, now actually grateful for the phone calls, the arguments, the pile of paper to transfer to our computer software, and the faxes of invoices and orders I had to process. All this added business didn’t really occur to me until I was almost finished. A quick calculation told me we were heading toward some very big numbers. Wasn’t our accountant going to be surprised? In fact, the numbers were so high, I started adding, recalculating, and reviewing the figures to be sure I hadn’t made some big error.

  I worked so hard I didn’t realize the end of the day had come. I looked up and saw the time, realizing I had worked right through lunch. Willy never stopped either. Finally, she came in to tell me Eve had gone back to the house an hour previously to start to prepare our dinner.

  “She wanted to make a chocolate angel food cake, too. I told her that was one of your favorites.”

  “I don’t see myself having a great appetite tonight, Willy.”

  “Did you have any lunch?” she asked suspiciously.

  “No. I forgot. I bet you didn’t either.”

  “It’s not the same thing. I’m not trying to get pregnant tonight. If you’re don’t take care of yourself, this won’t work,” she warned. “I’m telling you now that when you get pregnant, I’ll be on your ass to make sure you take good care of yourself, so be prepared. No nagging your mother ever did will compare.”

  “Okay,” I said laughing. “I promise. I’ll be hungry tonight.”

  “Better be. Eve would be disappointed, too.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about,” I said petulantly and immediately regretted it, especially when I saw the expression on Willy’s face. “I mean, it’s really nice of her to do all this for us, but I’m focused on us for the time being, on what we’re about to do.”

  She nodded with that look in her eyes that told me she saw through any false front I could muster.

  “Go home, Kate. Get some rest. You don’t realize the mental and emotional stress.”

  “Yes, I do,” I said. “But you’re right.” I closed the books and shut off the computer. “How’s it going out there?”

  “It’s going well. No worries. I’ll be home in fifteen minutes,” she said and returned to the crew and the equipment. I packed up my things and headed out.

  When I pulled into our driveway, I was surprised to see Dr. Matthews had already arrived. I parked in the garage, closed the door and entered the house to the sounds of music and laughter. Eve and Dr. Matthews were sitting in the living room, having a cocktail. There was a platter of hors d’oeuvres on the coffee table. Dr. Matthews had her hair up and wore a light blue dress that reminded me of a hospital uniform.

  “Kate,” she cried, standing. “I hope you don’t mind my arriving a little early. I had an errand nearby and it was over quicker than I had anticipated. It gave me a chance
to catch up on our family news,” she added, nodding at Eve.

  “Of course not,” I said, smiling and gazing at the platter. “I see the party’s already started.”

  “I thought I’d use Dr. Matthews as a guinea pig to test our selections for the White Party,” Eve said.

  “They’re wonderful. I especially like that variation on a crab cake.”

  “Thank you,” Eve said. She had created it so it wasn’t entirely out of place for her to take credit. She turned to me. “And don’t forget what’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” she said.

  I thought she was referring to the dinner, but Dr. Matthews’ laugh suggested something more.

  “What’s waiting for me in the kitchen?”

  “She’s referring to the vial of sperm I brought. When we’re ready, I’ll be thawing it out slowly.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In the refrigerator,” Eve said, smiling. “Can I offer her a drink?” she asked Dr. Matthews.

  Can she offer me a drink? Whose house was this?

  “I’d rather she not,” Dr. Matthews said. “I know you’re a little nervous about it all,” she said, turning to me. “So I have something that will keep you calm and it wouldn’t be wise to combine it with alcohol.”

  “I don’t think I need anything to keep me calm,” I said sharply, then turned and went into the kitchen. I immediately saw what looked like a turkey syringe in a closed plastic bag on the counter, beside a small bowl. I froze a moment staring at it and not realizing Dr. Matthews and Eve had come up behind me. When she spoke, Dr. Matthews sounded as if her lips were right beside my ear. I nearly jumped.

  “I find that to be the most effective way to transfer the sperm,” Dr. Matthews said. “Don’t worry. I’ll explain it all to you carefully.”

  I looked from her to Eve who continued to smile. When would Willy be home? I didn’t want to talk about any of this without Willy being present.

  “We’ll wait for Willy,” I said pointedly.

  “Of course.”

  “Look at this!” Eve said and opened the refrigerator. I expected her to show me the vial, but she took out a chocolate angel food cake instead. “Yummy.”

  “Looks wonderful,” Dr. Matthews said.

  Eve put the cake back and took out a platter of ready-to-fry portions of chicken Kiev.

  “I have a secret ingredient that will make this extra special,” she said.

  “What a feast,” Dr. Matthews told her. “I would have come here just for the dinner.”

  They both stood there smiling at me and although I couldn’t explain it, that made me nervous, even irritable.

  “I’m going to change into something more comfortable,” I said.

  I felt I needed to get away from them for a few minutes, to be alone.

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Dr. Matthews said. “The more relaxed you are, the better our chances,” she said.

  Our chances? I thought, and then recalled how she had made the point that every insemination’s success or failure reflects on them. I nodded and went to the bedroom. They returned to the living room.

  I took my time changing, glancing every five minutes at the clock, wondering about Willy. Where was she? She should have been home by now. It was well over a half hour.

  To keep my mind off it all, I brushed out my hair, put on some fresh makeup, and then walked out of the bedroom. The music was louder. I stopped and listened, surprised I could hear Willy’s voice and laughter now, too. I hurried to the living room. They were all sitting around, drinking and feasting on a new tray of hors d’oeuvres.

  “When did you get home?”

  “Just a little while ago? Dr. Matthews told me you were changing. Did you see the cake, the Kiev?”

  “I saw everything,” I said pointedly.

  Eve’s smile was really beginning to annoy me. She sat there beaming up at me like some idiot.

  “Anything wrong?”

  “I’d like to speak with you alone,” I said, and turned. I walked out and through the kitchen toward our bedroom without looking back to see if she was coming or not. She entered right behind me and closed the door softly.

  “What’s wrong, Kate?”

  “Everything,” I said. “I wanted this to be a very private event, something special between you and me.”

  “So it will be. All I suggested,” she said, smiling lustfully, “is I’ll see about making it as erotic as possible.”

  “I told you I didn’t want any party.”

  “It’s not a party. We have to have dinner. You didn’t object when Dr. Matthews volunteered to help with the process, and you invited her to dinner, not me.”

  “Process,” I muttered.

  “Well, what do you want to call it, Kate, making love with a vial of sperm?”

  I glanced at her and sat on the bed.

  “I don’t want Eve in here,” I said. “She’s weird. I don’t care what you say.”

  “All right. She won’t be in here. I don’t see why she would have been in here anyway.”

  I looked up at her. She shrugged.

  “You didn’t think I wanted her in here, too, did you?” she asked.

  “I don’t know what to think. No. I guess not, but she has a way of inserting herself into everything.”

  Willy shook her head and looked away. I saw she was losing patience with me.

  “Look, I am nervous. Just bear with me. I’m sorry.”

  “Sure. Let’s enjoy our meal and then follow the procedure and see what occurs.” She smiled, suggesting she was up to something she thought would please me. “All right?”

  I took a deep breath.

  “All right.”

  “Great,” she said, and opened the door. “Let’s eat!” she shouted.

  I hadn’t noticed before, but Eve had set the dining room table with our fine china. There was a wine goblet at three places. On the plate obviously intended for me, there was a pill.

  Dr. Matthews and Willy stood by their chairs. Eve was obviously going to serve. She moved quickly to pull out my chair.

  “The guest of honor,” she declared.

  “What is that?” I asked looking at the pill.

  “What I told you about before. Something that will keep you calm, help you get through it all easily,” Dr. Matthews said. “I’ve seen some real blunders when it comes to this,” she added, looking to Willy, who nodded as if she had seen them as well.

  “What sort of blunders?”

  “Just silly things that caused failure. The more relaxed you are, the better our chances are,” she said. It was beginning to sound like a chant.

  I sat and looked at the pill.

  “I don’t like taking pills. What is it, exactly?”

  “Jesus, Kate.”

  “It’s just a mild sedative, Kate. I wouldn’t give you anything more,” Dr. Matthews said. “It’s something Dr. Aaron recommends and uses, too.”

  Willy turned her hands over and shrugged.

  I took the pill and swallowed it with some water.

  Eve began to serve our salad and brought out some fresh, warm bread.

  I couldn’t say exactly why, but their chatter, their laughter, their obvious enjoyment of the food and the wine all irked me. Maybe it was because the conversation was about everything but me, everything but what we were really here to do. They went from the White Party to politics to a philosophical discussion of the future of mankind and whether or not we were better as a species than our ancestors had been. Willy agreed with Dr. Matthews that people, although far more civilized, weren’t any less evil. After a while, their voices droned and I felt as if I were the one who had been drinking all that wine and not any of them. Occasionally, I caught Dr. Matthews looking at me and smiling.

  I ate, or at least I thought I did. What I tasted did taste wonderful. I begrudgingly offered up compliments to Eve about her cooking and baking, the whole preparation. I offered to help clean up, but they were all up and around me, plucking dishes a
nd silverware, bowls and pitchers off the table like three vultures. Before I knew it, the table had been stripped clean. I sat there, dazed, until I heard Dr. Matthews at my right ear, her lips grazing it, whisper, “It’s time, Kate.”

  She took my right arm at the elbow. I felt another hand on my left and saw Willy smiling. The two of them guided me to my feet. I laughed.

  “Did I drink too much?” I asked.

  That brought smiles to their faces.

  “No, Kate. You didn’t drink anything,” Willy said.

  “Just relax, dear,” Dr. Matthews said.

  Eve went ahead and opened the bedroom door. She stood aside and watched as we entered. I glanced at her.

  “Good luck,” she whispered. The whites of her eyes seemed to bubble around her more rust-colored pupils like boiling milk. She stepped back and closed the door.

  “Don’t worry. She’s not in the room,” Willy said.

  They guided me to the bed. The blanket had been pulled back and the pillows rearranged. Beside the bed was a small table with the syringe I had seen earlier. The vial was in a small bowl of water. I sat and watched as Dr. Matthews rolled the vial gently in the palms of her hands. I was vaguely aware of Willy’s undressing me.

  When I was naked, she lowered me back so my head rested on my pillow. I heard Dr. Matthews mumble something to Willy, and then Willy placed pillows under my rear to elevate my hips. To me it then seemed like the lights had been dimmed, and once again I could swear I saw a candle burning in not one, but both our windows that faced the rear of the house.

  “Remember this song?” Willy whispered in my right ear. She had knelt by the bed as if she was about to offer a prayer and then leaned toward me. “I asked Eve to put it on for you, for us.”

  Willy was never one to make big deals over our anniversaries for different events in our relationship. When one occurred, she pretended to be surprised and then reluctantly admit it was reason to celebrate. All the while I knew that whatever it was, it meant as much to her as it did to me. So this was the beginning of Willy’s surprise, I thought. Hearing our song put a smile on my face. She leaned over farther to kiss me. I felt warmed right to the heart. We were going to do this in an atmosphere of love and not some laboratory experiment after all.