Hitting the Mother lode
Or, Love in the Time of the Hudson River Virus
The Alternate Birthing Centre at the Green commune had already seen its fair share of business by the time Heather Lisinski sought out its services, but I think it's safe to say it had never seen anything like the events that would soon unfold.
A few weeks after the ASA cleared out, a few weeks after Heather spent the evening in her bathroom, staring at the little pink plus on the wand in her sink, she stepped into the main waiting room at the Green commune clinic, a look of trepidation on her face.
Trish Merrick sat behind the reception desk, sorting through papers and, every now and then, rocking the cradle nearby with her foot. She smiled up at the newcomer. "Welcome! Name please?"
Heather glanced around the waiting room. There were only two other clients there today, Lorraine Carmichael and a man she recognized only by sight. She cleared her throat. "Heather Lisinski."
"And is the purpose of your visit medical or retail?"
Heather breathed out slowly. "Medical."
"Fill these forms out please, and someone will be with you shortly."
Heather thanked her and sat in one of the chairs. She was finished quickly, the 'forms' being a single sheet of photocopy paper, though printed on both sides. She wondered vaguely where they had gotten the paper, having not signed up with J&R, but she'd also heard rumours that DD had been supplying a lot of people in the area with the fruits of their evening ransacking the offices in town hall after the liberation.
From her seat, she had a clear view of the baby in the cradle, making funny little noises as Trish rocked her absently. Heather willed herself not to let her eyes tear up.
"Heather!" She looked up to see Mary standing in the doorway. "Good to see you!"
Heather shook herself out of her reverie and stood up. "Good to see you too," she said shakily, following Mary down the hallway.
"How've you been? I feel like we haven't seen you in forever," Mary said as she offered Heather a seat in the small exam room.
"I - yeah, no, I've been...good," said Heather distractedly. "I haven't seen you in...you look...good. When are you due?"
"Another four months," said Mary, smiling and putting a hand self-consciously to her growing abdomen. "Are you okay?" she asked, for Heather's eyes had suddenly gotten suspiciously shiny.
"I - no - I'm..." Heather shifted uncomfortably in her chair, just as April swept into the room.
"Heather! Hi! Good to see you! You should come out sometime to visit, we haven't seen you in so long..." April trailed off as she too caught the look on Heather's face. She glanced quickly at Mary, and a look passed briefly between them. They both looked back at their patient before Heather could wonder what they were now silently communicating.
April seemed to think it best to proceed in a professional manner. "So, Heather, why'd you come in to see us today?"
Heather had been to the Green clinic once since its inception, to check out a finger she'd slammed in the photocopier at Town Hall, but this medical complaint would be much harder to make.
"I'm uh...well, I'm..." She floundered as she looked helplessly at her two concerned observers.
"It's okay," said April gently.
"Would you like a moment?" offered Mary.
"No, I..." Heather looked around the room as if searching for an escape, though she knew she needed to be there in this moment.
"A cup of tea?" asked April.
"Vodka?" asked Mary.
Heather felt her eyes welling up and cursed herself as she strained out, "I can't!"
April surveyed her with a calm but careful concern, and Mary reached to hand her a tissue, which she grudgingly accepted.
Heather stared at each of their faces, feeling the warring parts of herself give in as she finally had a chance to talk to someone who cared. "I'm pregnant."
Their matching expressions betrayed how taken aback they were, but they quickly composed themselves. "How long have you known?" asked April, in a kindly voice. Heather burst into tears.
Mary quickly pulled the other chair in the room up beside her, offering more tissues and a shoulder to cry on, while April leaned against the exam table so that she was right in front of Heather, offering comforting words and patting her arm.
After they had consoled her for a few minutes, April asked softly, "Does the father know?"
This produced fresh tears from Heather. April and Mary exchanged a worried look but turned quickly back to their patient and friend.
"He's - I can't - I don't know..."
"It's alright, you don't have to tell him, and you don't have to tell us anything, unless you want to," said April.
"It's not that," said Heather mournfully once she had recovered her speech. "I - oh, you're going to think I'm such a...such a..."
"Heather, we will not think any differently of you!" said April. "You can tell us anything, and we will be here for you."
Heather took a deep breath. "I don't know who the father is."
There was a silence in the room for a few seconds. Mary quickly broke it, saying "Okay. That's okay. You know, you wouldn't be the first. It happens."
April nodded. "It does. Heather, you would not be the first woman to sleep with two different men. And look at us. We're not exactly going to judge anyone."
Heather tried to smile at their attempts to console her, but she couldn't help but feel a little bitter as she did look at them. Their situation was in no way like hers. "It's worse," she whispered.
"Oh?" asked April. Mary raised her eyebrows.
Heather could barely face either of them as they continued to look at her with their concerned expressions. She absently brushed her hair back and said in a flat tone, "There are more than two."
They stared at her in silence. "There are six possibilities," she admitted a long moment later.
After April and Mary swallowed their shock and forced themselves to appear entirely supportive and not at all flabbergasted, after Heather dissolved into another round of tears, this time accompanied by noisy sobs, and after Mary put an arm around her and April took one of her hands in both of her own, Heather began to tell the story.
"The bombs changed so much, for so many people, and for me, they made me want to live my life to the fullest, every chance I got. You know, that first night, after Jake drove the bus back to town..."
April and Mary would discuss later the faraway look they almost thought they saw flash across her face at this moment, but Heather quickly continued on with her story. "That night, I thought about all the things I'd never done. Everything I'd never experienced. There were so many things..."
They nodded along. It wasn't as though anyone would disagree with that. "Then when I went to New Bern, and saw how bad everything was, I thought for sure, 'I could die here'." At the look of sympathy on their faces, she grimaced. "It was just how things were, there. Like living on the edge of the end of the world, all the time. And there were still so many things I'd never done."
They nodded. She swallowed. "I stayed with my friend, Ted, when I was there. We grew up together. Ran around the neighbourhood in our underwear one year, pretending to be superheroes. We were four," she clarified. April smiled gently, and Mary chuckled softly.
"Ted was a good friend. He was there for me. Safe. Someone I could count on," she said. "He asked me out once, in junior high, but we laughed it off and managed to stay friends."
They were silent as she continued. "I've been careful all my life. After the bombs, I started taking chances. Trying things. And still, I lay awake at night, thinking of everything I might never get to do."
She took a trembling breath, glancing at each of her confidantes before speaking. "See, before I went to New Bern, I'd never been...I was a virgin."
They said nothing, but nodded, encouraging her to go on.
"There I was, facing possible starvation or freezing to death, or war, disease, occupation, and I was thinking 'Damnit, I'll die a virgin'." She shook her head at the apparent irony.
"My third night there, I decided to take a chance. What did I have to lose?"
"So, Ted...?" asked April.
"He was a good friend," said Heather ruefully.
"Was it...?" asked Mary.
Heather shrugged. "Nothing earth-shattering," she said. She looked on the verge of tears again. "And now I don't even know where he is, they say he disappeared after the war, and I won't be able to even tell him this and I'm all alone!" She sobbed again.
April squeezed her hand. "That is not true. You are not all alone. You have friends. And you have us."
"Yes, you do," said Mary.
Heather continued to sob.
"Look, we're all in this together," said April. "Mary's due soon, we've got Ruby, and Trish is pregnant now too."
"We can all be moms together!" said Mary.
Seeing their solicitous looks, Heather tried to smile back at them, but she couldn't help thinking to herself that it would not be for her like it was for them. They had each other, a family around them always. Much as they might offer their advice, she would be doing it alone.
"And anyway," continued Mary, "You don't have to do this alone. There's a father out there who can help."
"If you want him to," added April.
"But I don't know..."
"Right," said April quickly. "Well, how about we get some basic blood work and do some tests, and you can tell us about the...rest? If you want."
Heather nodded her consent, blew her nose, and asked for a glass of water. She felt much too drained to continue telling her story, and so she stayed nearly silent as April conducted her exam, only speaking to answer questions or thank Mary who kept leaving and reappearing with water, more tissues, a book for expectant mothers and a jar of complimentary lotion from the Green commune supplies.
April and Mary talked a lot, April giving medical advice and recounting her own feelings of fear and isolation when she first found out she was pregnant, Mary trying to make her laugh with funny stories and explaining that they were training Trish to be a midwife too.
"We'll be there for yours, though, don't worry. You'll get the experts," said April.
Suddenly, Trish stuck her head in the door. "Sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Samarin is here and seems to have broken his leg, and Kenchy's here, asking for another batch. I told him you'd have to talk to him first." She smiled apologetically at Heather, and looked to April and Mary.
"He broke his leg?" asked April.
"Wife says he fell off the tractor or something. He's bleeding all over the place." Trish looked a little green in the face.
"And Kenchy...again?" asked Mary. Trish nodded.
"Okay, we've got to get those, is it alright if Trish finishes taking your history?" asked April.
Heather nodded, and after April finished explaining to Trish how to fill out the forms they hadn't gotten to, both April and Mary retreated quickly.
Heather sat quietly after they were gone. She had felt too drained to tell the rest of her story earlier, but now she wished they hadn't left. They were such good listeners. She peered at the young woman perched awkwardly on the chair across from her. Trish carefully perused the forms.
"Any infections or illnesses recently?" asked Trish.
Heather shook her head.
"Any history of drug use or excessive alcohol consumption?"
Heather bit her lip. "Usually, no," she answered after a prolonged pause. Trish looked up from the questions. Heather considered her. The story was on the tip of her tongue and Trish was not one of her friends, nor a trusted doctor or midwife. But, she was, Heather reminded herself, hardly in a position to judge and she didn't really know anyone in town anyway.
"I had this one night," Heather started, a little surprised at herself. She paused for a second, aware of Trish's careful observation of her, and continued. "Back in New Bern, when things were bad. I ended up at a bar there one night, Smoky Jim's, with one of my friends. We were both pretty depressed. He was telling me about how he'd just figured out he loved someone, really loved her, before he left town. He couldn't stop thinking about her, and worrying about her, and he was afraid he'd never see her again."
"I knew how he felt. I had someone I...someone I missed back home too. And New Bern those days, may as well have been Timbuktu, it seemed so far from home. We stayed at the bar that night, for so long, and we drank more and more, and talked again and again about how much we missed home. We finally left the bar, after it closed, and stumbled off together. I didn't make it all the way home."
"You mean...?" asked Trish.
"We were both so messed up, thinking about how we'd never get home to the people we loved. He even said her name...it was pretty bad. Next morning, we barely remembered, but we felt awful none the less. You know, I thought we could stay friends, but things have been really weird, and I've barely even talked to Stanley since."
"Stanley?" Trish's eyes had gone wide. "Stanley Richmond?"
Heather sighed. Of course, he had to be one of the only people in town Trish did know by name.
"Yes," she said through gritted teeth. "But you can't tell anyone, alright? I'm not sure this baby's his, and I really don't think I can go telling him about it. I've been kind of keeping my distance."
"Oh, I understand," said Trish. "And I don't blame you. That woman, his wife - Mimi. She kind of scares me."
"Well, she's..." Heather intended to say something nice. She had truthfully not thought a lot about Mimi before, but the more she thought about it now, the more she understood Trish's apprehension.
"I mean, he's nice enough," continued Trish. "But her..there's just something weird about her. I don't know, but I think she's hiding something."
Before Heather could join in her suspicions, there was a loud shouting on the other side of the door. Trish glanced at her quickly, and went over to open the door. In the hallway, Mary stood, with a hand pressed to her belly, and April, standing nearby, was beaming excitedly. She noticed Trish looking out, and waved her over. "The baby's kicking! For the first time!"
Heather couldn't help but watch from her chair as Trish went over to join them. She let out a deep breath again. She would never have thought she'd be so envious of a set of polygamous sister wives, much as she respected her friends, but they looked so happy. And they weren't alone. They wouldn't sit up at night running over a million possibilities of everything that could go wrong, and have no one to explain their sleepless night to in the morning. She got up, gathered her belongings, and stepped out of the exam room.
"Oh my God! This feels really weird," Mary was saying, grinning the whole time, and April was saying "I know! Didn't I tell you, it's amazing!"
"I'm just gonna head out," Heather interrupted. They protested, saying she could stay and finish their discussion, and offering to let her feel the baby's kicking. Heather declined quickly, promising to come back for another appointment in two weeks, and made a beeline out of the Green commune clinic.
Her mind was reeling the whole way back to town, and her stomach was growling. She couldn't believe how extremely ravenous she'd been ever since this whole pregnancy thing began. It was like she was eating enough to feed a whole army, or at least a football team. It was food ration day, and she figured she may as well brave the lineup in the afternoon, since it was usually shorter than the evening rush anyway. She parked Charlotte in the alley by the pharmacy and carefully slammed the door behind her.
Before she made it to the end of the alley, a figure suddenly swooped in front of her, blocking her path to the street. For a moment, she was alarmed at the person towering over her, though she told herself a moment later that it was silly. It was just Mimi Clark.
"Heather Lisinski."
Mimi folded her arms, business-like, and Heather wondered why she felt so uneasy. "Hi, Mimi," she said in a shaky voice. She attempted a smile that Mimi did not return.
"Word is, you're pregnant." Mimi continued to stare steadily.
"Where did you hear that?" Heather exclaimed indignantly. "Does patient privilege mean nothing to them? I cannot believe -"
"I didn't hear it from the polygamists," said Mimi. "I just have my ways."
Heather looked up at her for a few moments before steadying her voice to say, "Alright."
She thought she saw a trace of an emotion she couldn't name flash across Mimi's face, but Mimi's voice was calm and cool as she said, "So. No father at the doctor's appointment. He around?"
Heather didn't have time to sort out the mixture of emotions running through her mind. Outrage at the invasion of privacy, regret at the whole situation, guilt and an instinctive uneasiness she felt as she saw Mimi contemplating the Rolex watch she wore on her wrist. Mimi had cut right to the heart of the matter. She decided to do the same. "I don't know who he is! I swear."
Mimi nodded. "But you have guesses."
Someone else might have feigned ignorance, made a joke, or asserted themselves at the insult, but Heather understood exactly the unspoken question Mimi was sending in her direction. There was something menacing about the IRS agent's stance, her intense gaze, and the way she was now turning a pen over in her fingers, but Heather sensed underneath it a vulnerability. Partly to assuage her and partly to ensure her own safe passage out of the alley, Heather decided to exaggerate her certainty.
"I'm pretty sure who it is."
Mimi raised her eyebrows.
"And it's no one you know," Heather said emphatically. The taller woman seemed to regard this dubiously. Heather sighed, and the words came tumbling out of her mouth.
"After I was left for dead on the road and the army picked me up, I woke up at Camp Liberty. It was a tough time in my life. I knew then, how close I'd come to being killed, and I felt like I had no one in the world. I met this guy there, one night. He was good looking, charming, he had the nicest smile, and well, he was nice to me. Which might be a funny reason, but, it seemed to me at that point that there weren't many people left who would take the time to be nice to me. He told me he was shipping out in the morning, and he didn't know if he'd come back from his mission alive. It was like it was his last certain night on Earth. I probably shouldn't have lost my head so easily, but you know how it is, when you're on the verge and suddenly you just throw everything you've ever been taught away?"
Surprisingly, Mimi nodded, her face solemn.
"And the next morning, he was gone," Heather said simply. "I have no idea where. I never saw him again. I didn't even get his first name. Just his last name. Chavez."
"Chavez?" asked Mimi quietly.
"Yeah," said Heather, with an almost sarcastic laugh. She scrutinized the accountant for a moment, but if Mimi recognized the name at all, she did not let it show on her face.
"So, that's who I think it is. That's what you can spread around town if you want. Heather got pregnant with some mysterious guy and he doesn't have a first name," Heather finished sarcastically.
"I don't spread information," said Mimi in a low voice.
Heather nodded, and they were silent for a moment. "So...how is Stanley?" asked Heather. Mimi's eyes flashed and Heather quickly added "I mean, how are you guys coping? I imagine it must be really tough. Bonnie was...well, I'm really sorry."
She seemed to have struck a chord with the IRS agent. Mimi lost her careful composure for a second, and her eyes grew suspiciously brilliant. She cleared her throat. "Yeah, well." She shrugged, and without another word, turned and strode across the alley. Heather thought maybe she could see her swiping furiously at her face as she turned the corner and vanished, but it was hard to say, it happened so quickly.
Heather felt an unexpected surge of pity added to the tornado of feelings she was already experiencing. She felt so overwhelmed as she stepped out of the alley and into the sun, she wondered if she was walking in a straight line. She nearly smacked into someone on the sidewalk.
"Heather!" It was Emily Sullivan. Again. Why did she keep popping up out of nowhere?
"Hi Emily," she said glumly, and she kept walking. Emily fell into step beside her.
"What's the matter Heather?" asked Emily. "You look like someone ran over your dog."
Heather laughed feebly, though she was sure it wasn't a joke.
"Come on, you can tell me. I'm your best friend," Emily said. She looked over at her. "I care about you, and you can tell me anything. I promise."
Heather hadn't considered telling Emily Sullivan anything in a long time, but with all her feelings bursting just below the surface, she was having trouble holding back today. Emily really had been a friend to her, for three years, and they'd shared some difficult secrets before. She still had three to tell, and she felt that if she didn't tell them, she would explode. She looked down as she walked. "I slept with Bill."
Now, I have to take a moment to interject here, to explain so you don't think I'm a jerk. I've known Heather Lisinski ever since she first moved to Jericho, three years before the bombs. I always thought she was cute, in an unassuming, wholesome kind of way, and I've always known she had a bit of a thing for me, so I tried not to encourage her too much. Nice girl like her, didn't need to get mixed up with a lone wolf like me. The bombs changed things, for her and for me, and I hope you'll remember that when you read the next part. I really was happy to see Heather when she came back from Cheyenne, and, well, it was a dark and lonely time in both of our lives. Hopefully you can't blame us for reaching to a mutual friend for a little bit of comfort in all that.
"Bill? Seriously?" asked Emily. "You? and Bill?"
I must also add that Emily Sullivan and I had a thing once. Seventh grade. We ate lunch together for a week, but it didn't work out. Emily took it harder than me, and poor kid, I think it's always stayed with her, in the back of her mind.
"Yeah," said Heather, a hint of despair in her voice. As they passed town hall, they stepped around an irate Gray Anderson, who was standing by his car. The door was open, and balloons cascaded out from the interior. "Look what they did! Filled my car with balloons! Who does that?"
Emily giggled briefly at DD's latest efforts, but Heather couldn't bring herself to do more than smile weakly. "So, Heather, you were saying," Emily said, in as encouraging a voice as she could manage. "You and...Bill."
Heather sighed. "Yes. It was after I got back from Cheyenne, okay? I was in a tough place then, seeing what a wreck the town had become while I was gone, and what the war had done to all of you. And no one seemed to care..." She trailed off, glancing nervously at Emily, but decided to say what she felt, "No one seemed to care I'd come back."
Emily attempted to protest, but Heather cut her off. "I was working in the office, with my new job, and feeling awful, reading those reports about New Bern. Bill came in, it was the first time I'd seen him since I got back. He seemed happy to see me, we talked, and I felt like someone really cared, for once. And, we talked about how we both felt, about the ASA and the direction the town was taking, and how nervous it was making us. And I couldn't help but feel like he was lonely too. Feeling a little like no one noticed he was there either. And I know how that feels, and I couldn't just stand there and..."
"So you had a quickie in the broom closet, huh?" asked Emily.
"Actually...the Major's office," said Heather sheepishly.
Emily showed signs of laughter, but wisely managed to control herself. Heather, on the other hand, looked utterly dejected. "I mean, I know it probably wasn't a good idea, a quickie with an old friend..."
Emily seemed to have broken out in an encouraging smile, and she patted Heather's arm with enthusiasm. "Oh, Heather, I think it's wonderful! Wonderful, wonderful!"
Heather gave her a strange look. "Well, it wasn't quite wonderful, if you know what I mean..."
She glanced quickly at her friend. "Not that it was bad," she added.
A change came over Emily's features. She was no longer grinning, but considering Heather with narrowed eyes. "I'd assume so. Heather, how could you be so stupid?"
Heather blinked. "What?" she struggled to say.
"Of all the idiotic things I've heard of..." scowled Emily. "Did you ever stop and think maybe there'd be consequences? Or did you even think?"
Heather wasn't really sure what was happening, other than, she was getting angry herself now. "Excuse me?"
"I guess you wouldn't think of anything going wrong. Nothing ever does go wrong for you. It must be nice to live your life."
The words stung, and Heather was seething. Though part of her knew it was stupid, an overwhelming part of her just wanted to show Emily how wrong she was. "You think my life's perfect? You want it? I'm pregnant! And I'm alone! And I have no idea what I'm going to do! So there, you know. Happy?" Angry tears glistened on her cheeks.
"Not at all," said Emily in a quiet voice. She pouted, and turned onto a side street. Heather kept walking, kicking angrily at the pebbles on the sidewalk.
She had planned to line up for food rations, but she could see Jimmy Taylor approaching with his family. Now, Jimmy is one of my best friends, but even I know his cheery attitude can sometimes be hard to take on a really bad day. She walked right past the market, and found herself standing outside the building that had once been the Cyberjolt cafe. The sign had been painted over to read "Dr. Love." A piece of paper in the window informed her that the doctor was in. Heather smirked. When she'd left the commune, Kenchy had been lolling in the reception area, apparently having been turned down in his request for another batch of special brew. As she glanced over at Jimmy's approaching family, she ducked into the Cyberjolt.
Kenchy was indeed sitting behind the high counter in the main room of the cafe. He looked up at the new arrival, blinking in the hazy light. "Ms Lisinski. Hello."
"Hi," she said.
He peered at her in silence and she said nothing. "Can I get you anything? In need of my services? Looking to find love in the post-apocalyptic world?"
Heather couldn't help but laugh softly at the irony. "No. I really don't."
"Would you like to have a seat then?" he asked, gesturing at the row of stools leftover from the days the cafe served lattes.
Heather obliged, and sat, leaning her arms on the counter. Kenchy sat opposite her, in his chair behind the counter, and seeing the weary slump of her shoulders, slid a bottle of juice towards her. "Only thing I could get from those teenage rascals," he said apologetically. "And they're keeping a tight lock on the alcohol over at that commune."
"This is great, thanks," said Heather quickly, opening the juice and taking a sip. She stared at the counter as she drank. "Kenchy, did you ever do something that went against what you believed when it came to someone in a position of authority?"
Kenchy didn't answer, but the dark look that crossed his features seemed to speak volumes.
Heather traced a finger along the counter top. "You know how I worked for Beck? Before he went crazy?"
Kenchy raised his eyebrows.
"I mean, before he joined the church of the Terrestrial Mentalists," she clarified. "Well, he was always really nice to me. I sometimes got the feeling he liked me, you know. I didn't like to think about it too much, since he was my boss and I really wasn't interested, but it was always there in the back of my mind. What he wanted. I could feel it, when he looked at me, giving me assignments or taking a stack of photocopies from me." She continued to look down at the grainy counter, but couldn't help but feel relaxed in the doctor's presence, and for some reason, felt safe enough to tell her most troubling story.
"I used it," she said ruefully. "To help out a friend."
"Used what?" asked Kenchy softly.
"The thing Beck wanted from me," she said. "I didn't really want him, but I knew he wanted me, so I used it. All to help out a friend."
Kenchy waited for her to keep talking.
"I had a friend, who needed my help. Needed a way to get into Beck's office. There was information there that they needed to see, for the protection of our town."
Jake and Hawkins had indeed enlisted Heather's help. They'd caught wind of the fact Beck had information on all the movers and shakers in town. Hawkins had been highly suspicious and insisted they needed a way to check Beck's office, to see if he really had all their addresses and phone numbers in his big book. Heather had been convinced to help out. It was for the greater good, after all, and Jake would never know just how persuasive he could really be. Of course, Jake and Hawkins had never expected Heather's diversion to go as far as it had, and neither had she, but one thing had led to another and...
"One night, I came into the office after hours. I convinced him to follow me, to the closet. Gave him what he'd wanted, ever since we first met."
"I see," said Kenchy after a moment. "And your friend?"
"Got what he wanted, too. So I guess everyone's happy," she said bitterly.
"But you're not," said Kenchy.
"I made my own decision," said Heather, staring angrily down at her juice bottle.
"Alright, so you made one decision. You still have your life ahead of you. Lots of opportunity to be happy," said Kenchy eventually, switching to his clinical voice. "Can I get you anything? Another juice? A free session? I could find you someone to make you happy."
Heather looked up at him, annoyed. "I don't need you to find me anyone."
Kenchy was taken aback. "I didn't mean to - it's just what I do. There's someone for everyone, just not everyone's found their someone yet."
"I don't need anyone to find me a someone," said Heather, and she turned and fled the cafe.
She could feel the tears spilling down her face as she walked, blinding her as she passed the shops, but she didn't stop to wipe them. She felt as though she'd been on a roller coaster all day, and really, for weeks, months before this. And it would continue, for the next few months, and then years, and she didn't see an end in sight. And Kenchy, and all the others, seemed to think she would be concerned with finding someone to love. As if that was her problem.
She turned down another side street to avoid Skylar and Dale, the Devil's Duo themselves, as she saw them racing down the street, pulling a little wagon full of couch cushions behind them. She came to a run-down little store front, and sunk down on the front stoop. She put her head in her hands and sobbed.
"What seems to be the trouble, ma'am?" came a voice behind her. "Thinking too much about the aliens?"
She spun around. Old Oliver was standing in the doorway, talking to her from behind the battered screen door. She glanced up at the rickety sign overhead. She'd forgotten that this was where he'd set up his church.
"No, not aliens. Just people," she sighed, wiping at her face.
"Oh, it's people giving you trouble," he said. "You can always leave them all behind and join us. The Terrestrial Mentalists are a different kind of people, you'll find."
Heather couldn't help but smile through her tears at the well intentioned offer. "It's really just one person, you know."
Oliver gave a sage nod.
"Ever been in love?" she asked him after a moment.
"I love my congregation. And the rutabaga, of course," he said.
Heather tried not to giggle at the Terrestrial Mentalist's affection for the sacred object of his church. "You're lucky then. I always thought love would be straight forward. You fall in love with someone, if they love you back, you get together and are happy."
She picked at a sliver of wood on the stoop. "I made a mistake, I guess. There was this man, and I didn't know at first, but now I know, I loved him. And I thought maybe he might love me back. He seemed interested, at least. But so much happened, and it never seemed to work out for us. Then one day, he asked me for a favour. What I ended up doing, wasn't really good. It was bad, for both of us. But we went back, to his hunting cabin, and we were there for each other, tried to get past what I'd done, what he'd gotten me to do. We had one amazing night. Well, not really a whole night. He had to take off, something happened out at a farm." She wasn't really thinking about the horrors that had occurred out at Richmond ranch later that night. Her mind was on that time spent at the cabin. The feel of his skin under her fingertips, his mouth on her neck, his hands on her...She shook her head, as if to shake away the memories. "It doesn't matter anymore. Every time I see him now, he gives me this guilty look, and mumbles something. In fact, that's all I hear about him anymore, from anyone. How he walks around mumbling to himself. He's not thinking about me at all."
"I'm sorry," said Oliver through the screen. "Would you like a rutabaga to take home?"
Heather made a sound of frustration, though she quickly assured Oliver that while flattered, she just didn't have anywhere to properly display an object of importance like the rutabaga. She quickly retreated down the street, trying to ignore the tears running down her face.
Unfortunately, Heather Lisinski's second visit to the Alternate Birthing Centre was also accompanied by tears. As Heather sat on the exam table, she repeated the entire story and made use of the box of tissues they'd set out ahead of time. As April prepared the ultrasound machine, Mary stood by Heather's side for support, and Trish stood in the doorway observing, they listened, reacted, and consoled. They discussed the possibilities of each of the six possible fathers, and what Heather might choose to reveal to them, but Heather shot down any advice they tried to give her.
They kept up the chatter during the procedure, Heather suspected as a way to put her at ease, but suddenly, April went silent, staring at the screen. The others all looked over at her. April's face had gone white.
"What is it?" asked Heather. Mary had been holding her hand, but she let go as she quickly went over to look at the image that April was staring at. Her own eyes went wide, and she hurriedly whispered something to April, who glanced at Heather and whispered something back.
"Trish, come look at this," she said then, through clenched teeth. Trish looked nervous as she approached, but dutifully took her place beside her sister wives. She looked for a moment before she too registered an expression of shock. "Is that...?" All three of them turned to look at Heather, who was becoming frantic.
"What?" she asked. "Am I giving birth to a penguin or something? What are you all whispering about?"
April stepped towards her, her professional expression now gracing her face. "Heather, have we talked about the possibility of multiples?"
Heather was flustered. "What, like twins?"
Mary came to stand beside her again and gripped her hand supportively. "Triplets?" asked Heather.
Trish gave her a sympathetic look.
"Someone say something!" demanded Heather.
April turned the screen towards Heather and pulled it as close to the exam table as it could go. "Heather," she began in a slow, deliberate tone. "Your ultrasound is showing six separate fetuses."
"What?" asked Heather, looking from one commiserating face to another.
April smiled bracingly. "You're going to be a mother. To six babies."
"Well," sputtered Heather, breathlessly and in a high pitched voice. "I'm not going to be alone at all then."
"Heather? You okay?" asked Mary, as Heather continued to hyperventilate.
"Ever," added Heather. The room was starting to swim.
"Heather? Can I get you anything?" asked April.
Heather shook her head, nodded, let out a strange, choked sounding laugh, and leaned back on the exam table. The room slid out of focus and went dark.
News of Heather's pregnancy spread through Jericho like wildfire. Everyone had heard, soon after her first appointment, that there were several possible fathers, and it was a popular subject of discussion. Neighbours and friends would debate the most likely lucky man as they worked in the fields, stood in line at market, or waited outside town hall for another meeting. There were many seemingly wild theories. Many who had seen the way the Major interacted with his favourite liaison suspected they'd liaisoned a little more privately after hours. The old favourite was Jake, and the way he continued to keep to himself and scowl as he walked around town fueled the suspicions. A few people whispered that maybe Stanley and Heather had some kind of mistake between them, but most who had suggested that theory one day retracted it the next, a vaguely frightened look on their faces. A lot of people were overheard to be saying "It's Bill's, for sure," but I can't vouch for how many. And then, people knew Heather had been in New Bern and Cheyenne, both places filled with strange men, so there were infinite possibilities.
Heather bore the gossip bravely, marching around town as though she didn't realize people were whispering about her at all, and ignoring the stares her soon enormous mid section was earning whenever she entered a public space. After word got around that her uterus was actually housing six babies, father or fathers unknown, she seemed to grow even more fiercely resolute.
The possible fathers, for their part, were not unaware of the situation. Jake was reportedly sighted standing outside her door on several different nights, Beck was rumoured to have approached her in the middle of Spruce Lane once, only to retreat amidst her shouts that she needed no one, and I myself made a discreet offer to do right by the poor girl, but of course, she refused. I've got to hand it to her. Even though she started to show signs it was all getting to her, she kept fighting to show she could do it herself, right up to the fateful day.
It was in the middle of the night, in the middle of winter, that Heather drove herself out to the Alternate Birthing Centre and banged on the door. A drowsy Eric answered, and Heather gasped that her contractions were coming two minutes apart.
Eric was a little stunned, but he'd seen the process twice already. He rang a cowbell and quickly the entire commune mobilized. Eric helped Heather into the birthing room, and April and Mary swooped in and took over from there.
At dawn's first light, the first screams of the first baby filled the air. A few hours later, all six babies were wrapped in blankets and being passed back and forth between their mother and her attendants.
An exhausted looking Trish came out to the waiting room finally to announce to the crowd that had gathered there that the three boys, three girls, and mother were all healthy and resting.
"You should rest too, dear," said Gail, patting Trish on the arm and eyeing her daughter-in-law's noticeably pregnant middle. Trish sat down between Gail and Gray, who had arrived an hour earlier.
"How's Heather?" asked Jake. He had been pacing nervously, and held a wilting bouquet of flowers in one hand.
"Tired. Happy," said Trish.
"What's she going to name them?" asked Beck, who was seated across from the mayor and his wife, a rutabaga with a ribbon on it balanced on his lap.
"She hasn't got that far yet," laughed Trish.
"Can we see her?" I asked. I had come, as soon as I heard. Even though I knew she didn't think she needed me to marry her, I thought I'd at least offer a blessing to the babies.
Eric came into the room then, a baby in his arms and a toddler at his ankles. "Apparently, she doesn't want to see anyone," he announced. "Oh, hi Mom, hi Gray. Just took Ruby and Violet in to meet their...cousins."
Gray eagerly reached for his step-grandchildren, and was soon holding them both on his knee. Jake scowled, and turned to glare at Eric. "Your kids get to see her, but we don't?"
Eric shrugged. "Sorry, it's what the patient requested. April says it's really important we put our patients' choices first."
Gray bestowed a kindly look on his stepson. "Jake, you'll have to understand that Heather's in a vulnerable place right now. She's probably experiencing a lot of emotions, and you'll just have to accept that she's got more baggage with you." He grinned down at Ruby, who had just pinched his nose, and jiggled baby Violet with his other arm.
Jake scoffed, and muttered something that sounded like "Unbelievable."
"Well," said Beck, who had seemed to be off in his own world during this discussion, "If she doesn't want to see me, I think I'll leave this here. Tell her I wish her a happy journey on the road of understanding." He handed the rutabaga to Trish, made an odd sort of bow, and left.
"Yeah, same with me," I added quickly. Though I had no rutabaga to offer, I thought the least I could do was respect her wishes.
Jake was harder to convince. "What are you still doing here, then?" he asked his mother and stepfather.
"Well, we're here to offer support. He's the mayor, after all," said Gail.
"And we're the grandparents," added Gray.
"You are not the -" Jake sputtered, but was apparently so annoyed he couldn't finish the sentence.
"I'm supposed to pass on the message that Heather is very grateful for all your good wishes, but she just can't deal with any drama right now. So be sensitive," cut in Eric.
Jake turned angrily to his brother. "I'm sensitive."
"Of course you are, sweetheart," said Gail, standing up and taking charge of the situation. "Come on, let's go check out your kitchen, Eric. I'm sure everyone could do with some food. We'll whip something up. Gray, honey?" Gray stood up, and Gail took baby Violet from him. He swung Ruby in the air and she giggled. Eric and Trish moved to follow them too.
Gail turned to look at her eldest son. "Coming, sweetie?"
Jake looked down at his bouquet. "No. I'll do what she wants. Give her space." He dumped the flowers unceremoniously on one of the waiting room chairs and walked out the front door.
My cruiser was stuck in the snow bank. Beck was already helping me dig it out, and when Jake saw us, he silently and sullenly came over to help. As we worked, none of us said a word about our reasons for being there, or what had come to pass inside.
And so three of the possible fathers managed to keep an awkward situation from getting downright painful on the day of the Lisinski sextuplets' birth. There was, however, one other candidate who wasn't present that day. He wisely kept his distance, and read about the birth in the Jericho Record that came out the next day.
"Heather Lisinski gives birth to six healthy babies," read Stanley Richmond under his breath. He held the crumpled piece of paper close to his face and read it over in the dim light streaming through the barn roof. "Three boys: George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson." He chuckled. "Three girls: Abigail Dolly, Betsy Ross, Liberty Bell." He smiled, and peered at the picture again, though it gave him no clue as to the identity of the Lisinski six. It was just a picture of the clinic, with Eric Green's hand stretched towards the camera. Still, he looked again, imagining the people who were inside the building, refusing to be photographed.
"Stanley, I've got it!" came her breathless voice. He hastily crumpled the page and shoved it into the pig's trough. It disappeared under the mushy liquid. He hunched over in his seat on the wooden crate, pretending he'd been thinking about something.
He turned to see her making her way quickly across the hay strewn floor. She held a disk gingerly in one of her hands. "Had to knock out a soldier, but I left him alive. And, he never saw me coming."
"You are terrifying," he said with a grin. She grabbed his chin in her other hand, and leaned down to kiss him.
"That's why you love me, isn't it?" she asked as she pulled away from him.
"Nah, I like your gentle, good nature," he said with a swagger, pulling her down towards him again. She laughed, and wrapped her arms around his neck as she straddled him.
"We'll keep that between us," she whispered against his cheek.
He grinned and slid his hands across her lower back. "Yeah. Like everything else."
She laughed, a sultry laugh that made his ears tingle. "So what've you come up with, Einstein?"
Still holding her with one hand, he reached for the notebook on the floor beside him. "Figured it out, an hour ago. I was only off by a decimal point earlier." He held the notebook in between them, and their heads touched as they looked down.
"You're a genius!" she whispered.
"Yeah," he smirked, kissing her nose. "That's why you love me."
And, just as it had been for the past year, ever since that strange day that had first brought them together, they felt that with everything swirling around them constantly, the tiny maneuvers and huge secrets, they could be truly themselves, with nothing more between them.
I guess you're probably wondering just why it is that Mimi was so frightening, or how Stanley was a genius. Or how these two ever found each other in the midst of the quagmire around them. To answer that, we'll have to go back, to the beginning...