“He’ll be back, you know,” he said, stopping to look at her.
“I know. But by that time he’ll know we aren’t kidding,” she said, looking dubiously at her tight, flat stomach. “By that time you’ll be strong again. And ready for him. You’ll know he’s coming and you’ll be able to take it. It won’t be like now.”
He kissed her. “Goddamn it,” he whispered, grateful and amazed. “I do love you.”
Chapter Nine
THE DOCTOR’S WAITING ROOM was crowded, heavy with the eager boredom of people waiting to talk about themselves. It was the fourth doctor they had been to see within a week. Jack, as Laura might have expected, was in a hurry. But he had to find the right man, too—a man he genuinely liked. Not just any bone-picker was going to perform the wizardry to bring his child into being.
Laura had simply sat in red-faced silence through Jack’s expositions of their supposed marital troubles, both unwilling and unable to contribute a word. And the whole thing had been lengthy and bewildering and not a little tiring.
But when they finally got into Dr. Belden’s plush, paneled office, it went well. And she knew, suddenly paying attention to the words of the men, that it was going to be settled. And it was.
She answered the standard questions, her voice low with embarrassment. They always bothered her excessively, like so many spiders crawling over her tender shame. Other girls might not mind, or even liked to yammer to doctors about their intimate selves, but not Laura.
Jack bolstered her up as they were leaving. “You were heroic, Mother,” he assured her. “I know you hate it—yes you do, don’t lie,” he added impatiently when she tried to protest. “It’s all right, honey, it’s all in a good cause.”
“Don’t call me honey.”
“Why?”
“Terry calls everybody honey.” She was in a grumpy mood; he saw it and let her be for a while. “When do I have to go back?” she asked as they rode home in a taxi.
“A week from Thursday.” He looked at her somewhat anxiously as if wishing that Thursday had already come. “You won’t change your mind, of course,” he said to comfort himself. His voice was calm but his eyes were worried.
“No,” she sighed. She looked at her gloved hands until his anxious gaze moved her to give him one and make him smile.
He looked strangely different, almost young. Jack had the kind of a face that must have made him look forty when he was twenty. In a sense it was an ageless face because it had hardly changed at all. Laura supposed that when he was sixty, he would still look forty. But for the few weeks after Terry disappeared it looked young. And Laura thought with an ache of how much of that was due to her. How much she had forced him to depend on her. She was deeply committed now. There was no retreating.
Laura saw Doctor Belden three days in a row, and it was unspeakably humiliating for her. But she endured it. By the time her appointment came due, she was too afraid for Jack not to go. But she prayed when she was alone, with big wild angry sobs, that the artificial insemination wouldn’t work; that she was barren or Jack was sterile or the timing was off; anything. And she felt a huge, breathtaking need for a woman that absolutely tortured her at night.
After her first examination with Belden she went out of the office to meet Jack and told him she was going to the Village.
“I don’t know why I need to. I just do,” she said.
“Sure, sweetheart,” he said at last, standing facing her on the pavement outside the doctor’s office. “Go. Only, come back.”
“I will,” she said, near tears, and turned and almost ran from him. She couldn’t bear to touch him, and it was painful even to look at him.
It was mid-day in the Village and mothers walked their babies in the park. Laura hurried past them. Old ladies strolled about in the unusually warm weather, dogs barked, and a few hardy would-be artists had set up shop in the empty pool at the center of Washington Square. A small crowd of students had gathered to offer encouragement and argue.
Laura walked quickly through the park to Fourth Street, and then she turned and walked west, not sure why. On the other side of Sixth Avenue she stopped and found a drugstore and went in for coffee.
I can’t see Tris, she told herself, playing nervously with her hands. I won’t see Beebo. Or rather, Beebo won’t see me. That’s for sure. She tried to think of anything but what she had just been through, but it didn’t work. It never does.
Just so it’s normal, she thought angrily. I won’t hate it but I couldn’t stand an abnormal child. God, I’ve got to talk to somebody, somebody who doesn’t know, who’ll put it out of my mind. She thought of Inga then, but she couldn’t remember her last name and she wasn’t too sure where the girl lived. She had been too drunk that night.
And then, for no apparent reason, she thought of Lili. Beautiful, brazen Lili. At least Lili would talk. Laura wouldn’t have to open her mouth. Maybe it would be better that way. She wouldn’t betray any secrets to Beebo’s old lover about her marriage. But Lili would be only too happy to tell Laura what had gone on between Beebo and Tris if only to see her squirm, and Laura was burning to know.
She went to the phone booth at the back of the store and looked up Lili. She was still listed, still in the same apartment on Greenwich Avenue. It was late afternoon by the time Laura got there. Lili would just be getting out of bed, if she followed the same habits she used to have.
Laura felt very tired and reluctant when
