down the street. He didn’t love her. He hated her. She had tried to ruin his life, and he had tried to do the right thing. He had almost given up law school for her, and his life, and she had lied to him and manipulated him. She had used sex to control him and threats of suicide to hold him prisoner. His cell phone was ringing as he ran down the street, and he didn’t answer it. She had lied to him totally. There had never been a baby. Just Pattie with her hooks into him.
He let himself into his apartment and poured himself two stiff shots of tequila and downed them at one gulp as one of his roommates walked in.
“Are we having a party?” he said with a broad grin.
“I am,” Ted said. He already felt better than he had in weeks, even months. He was free.
He poured himself a third shot, and his roommate cautioned him. “Take it easy, buddy. You’ll feel like shit tomorrow.” But he felt incredible tonight. It was strange, suddenly hating someone he was supposed to love and had even promised to marry. But she was never the person she pretended to be. He sat on the couch, watched TV with the tequila bottle between his legs, poured himself shots, and stared into space, trying to absorb what had happened to him.
It was two in the morning when the emergency room at Downtown Hospital called his apartment. One of his roommates answered it and told Ted it was for him. He listened to what they said and made no comment.
“Will she be okay?” he finally asked in a dead voice. He was very drunk but not totally incoherent. He understood what the man had said. Pattie was in the emergency room and had had her stomach pumped. They said she had taken six sleeping pills, which wouldn’t have been enough to kill her, and had called 911 herself. They said she’d be fine tomorrow, although she was on a psychiatric hold for evaluation, since she admitted it was a suicide attempt, and she had told them to call him. It had been a feeble attempt.
“She’d like you to come in to see her,” the attendant told him.
“Tell her I’m too drunk. I’ll come by in the morning.” And with that, he hung up, took a last shot of tequila, and went to bed. He didn’t care about her suicide attempt. It was as fake as their baby that had never existed, and just another manipulation. He understood that now.
He woke up with a huge headache the next morning, but at nine-thirty he was at the hospital as he’d said he would be. He found her room easily, and she was lying on the bed looking sick. A nurse’s aide was sitting in the chair next to her, on suicide watch, and she offered to leave when Ted walked into the room, but he declined. He looked young and handsome and very hung over. But in spite of the excesses of the night before, he felt better than he had in months. Pattie looked considerably worse. They had decided to keep her for another day, until the psych resident saw her. And she didn’t look pleased to be there. She started to cry the minute she saw Ted, and held out her arms to him. Ted didn’t move toward her. He stood just inside the doorway where she couldn’t reach him, and he didn’t approach the bed.
“I’m done, Pattie. It’s over. Don’t threaten me anymore, don’t bother to kill yourself over me, or pretend to. Don’t tell me you love me or anything about our ‘baby.’ I’m done. Finished. I don’t care what you do. You never should have done this, any of it, or pretended you were pregnant.” The nurse’s aide was watching them with interest and Pattie lay facedown on the bed, sobbing. “Get out of my life. You
It was the icing on the cake when one of the nurses spoke to him on the way out and said how sorry she was that Pattie was back again. She said that after four such attempts, she would probably benefit from in-patient treatment this time. And she guessed correctly that Ted was one of her students. She said that her last two boyfriends had been too. It was indiscreet of her, and Ted’s stomach turned over as he listened. He wondered how many of his fellow students she had done this to, how many times she had pretended to be pregnant and faked suicide to keep them. The thought of what she’d done to him made him feel sick. Pattie was a desperate woman.
Ted called Annie as soon as he got home and told her what had happened.
“It was all a lie,” he told Annie in a dead voice. “She was never pregnant.”
“How did you find out?” she asked. She and Tom were at the breakfast table reading the paper. They had plans for the weekend.
“I just did. She was lying the whole time.” His voice choked as he said it, thinking of all the times she had cried and berated him and threatened to kill herself if he didn’t do what she wanted. He wasn’t even afraid of that now. He couldn’t imagine ever being afraid of anything again, or believing anyone. It was going to take him a long time to trust someone again. “It’s over,” he said quietly. And then he called Liz and told her.
He lay on his bed after that with a pounding head and a light heart, thinking about what had happened. He realized now that he had been addicted to her, she had wanted it that way, and she had used his addiction to control him. It was terrifying to think about it now. All he could think about was how lucky he was that he had found out, and how grateful he was to be free.
“What happened?” Tom asked Annie when she hung up. He could tell that it was something important.
“I don’t know. Ted discovered that Pattie wasn’t really pregnant. He said it was all a lie, a hoax. Apparently, he discovered it last night. He said it’s over. Thank God.” She heaved a sigh of relief and smiled at Tom.
“Well, you can take that off your worry list,” he said as he leaned over and kissed her. “Sounds like he got a lucky break.” She smiled broadly and poured him a second cup of coffee. By then Ted was already sound asleep on his bed, with a smile on his face, sleeping off the tequila.
Chapter 20
When Katie and Paul got through the security line at JFK Airport, they turned and waved to her aunt and his parents, and then disappeared in the activity of the airport, and Katie felt a wave of excitement wash over her. They stopped and bought cappuccinos at Starbucks and knew that they were the last ones they’d have for a while. After this they would be swept into his family life in Tehran.
Paul hadn’t been back in nine years, since they moved to New York. His parents talked about going back, but they never had. They had settled into their American life, and after adjusting to new ways, they had never gone back to Iran. And time had drifted by. Paul’s father had originally come to work for a few years, became more successful than he expected, and stayed. Paul’s father’s family had always begged them to move back, but he had a successful business in New York and worked hard, and Paul’s mother enjoyed the emancipated life she had adapted to in the States. She no longer covered her head or followed many of the old traditions, and that would have been a problem if they moved back to Tehran. They loved being Americans now, and integrated into their new life. It was Paul who most wanted to return to visit their family in Iran, and he had fond memories of his boyhood there. He longed to see his homeland again, and all the places he had known and loved as a child, and to share his history and heritage with Kate. She was thrilled to be taking the trip with him.
Paul had described Persepolis to her, the countryside outside Tehran, and the exotic look and smells of the bazaar. He wanted to show it all to her now and was proud to be returning as a man, not a boy. His mother also hadn’t wanted him to go back until his exemption from military service had been resolved, which had finally been settled the year before. Otherwise, as an Iranian, he would have been expected to serve. He had had a minor heart murmur as a child, and they had acknowledged his exemption at last. Now he was free to visit without concern.
Despite his American citizenship, Paul still had his Iranian passport and was considered Iranian once back in Iran. Katie was carrying Xerox copies of both their American passports, in case they lost them or had a problem on the trip. She had obtained her visa from the Pakistani embassy, since there was no Iranian embassy in the States, and no American embassy in Iran. The U.S. State Department had told her to go to the Swiss embassy if she had any problem once in Tehran. It seemed highly unlikely to her and to Paul that she would ever need their help, but it was good to know. And sensibly, they had been told to stay away from political demonstrations and protests of all kinds, which would have been good advice in any country in the world. Especially since they were young. They didn’t want to get arrested by mistake for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And Paul would be treated as an Iranian citizen if that was the case, and she could wind up in jail if she was mistaken for a dissident. But there was
