Heart's Desire (31 page)

Chapter Sixty-three

MAYBE BRANDT IS RIGHT AND THERE REALLY IS A COSMIC FORCE at work in the universe. The next morning when I check my E-mails, there’s one from Ray saying that he’s coming to Cleveland next weekend and asking if I want to get together. Apparently Ray’s mother is having a show of her watercolors that he’s supposed to attend. She paints vegetables. I’d seen one, an eggplant, specifically, and though I’m no art critic, it’s probably a good thing that Ray’s father is the primary donor to the small museum where they’ve offered to display her work.

Anyway, the Auggie disaster did serve at least one purpose, and that was to make me realize that maybe Ray has more potential than I thought. He’s nice, a good conversationalist, and unlike Auggie, he’s focused on becoming successful. Eventually he wants to have his own construction company and build entire communities and office parks from the ground up. Ray is the kind of guy who will provide for his family and not waste his life chasing after pipe dreams. Sure, a boyfriend who enjoys poetry and wants to be a professional writer is all very romantic, but it doesn’t pay the bills. And if I learned one thing growing up in a household with seven kids, there’s nothing like a pile of unpaid bills to take the fun out of life. Oh my gosh, I sound
exactly
like my father!

“Is it okay if Ray stays over Saturday night?” I ask at the breakfast table. “He’s going to be in Cleveland for the weekend.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” says Olivia.

“We promise not to show any naked baby pictures,” says Gil. “But only because we don’t have any.”

“Certainly it’s all right,” Bernard assures me. “Though I was starting to wonder if this attachment wasn’t merely a mirage.”

“Don’t joke,” I warn him. “Imaginary boyfriends
are
the next step for me.”

“We’ll make up the sunroom,” says Bernard. “I’ve put in some new blackout shades, so it can be made nice and dark for sleeping.”

But Olivia shoots him a look. “I’m sure that whatever sleeping arrangements Hallie works out with Ray will be perfectly suitable.”

After everyone else has left the table except Olivia, I say, “The strangest thing happened. Yesterday Joanne from the garden center called and asked me out.”

“What’s so unusual about that?” asks Olivia. “Obviously you both have a lot in common, working with flora and fertilizer.”

“No, I mean
out,
out on a date.”

“Oh!” says Olivia. “Well, as they say, it never hurts to ask.”

“But do you think it’s possible that she sensed something? I mean, maybe I can’t manage to hold on to a boyfriend because I’m . . . gay?” I think back to Auggie just casually dropping how he’d “been with guys,” and how Gil tried unsuccessfully to date a few women in college. And then again with Doris.

“During ancient times homosexuality wasn’t the opposite of heterosexuality,” says Olivia. “In ancient Greece older men went into battle alongside their younger lovers. The idea was that they’d fight more courageously. Plato once said the greatest army is made up of lovers. Though that doesn’t mean the Greeks were right about everything. Their poetry about women is very misogynistic.”

“But what about in peacetime?” I try not to sound as bewildered as I feel. “And right
now,
in modern-day America?”

“As nice and economical as it would be to have a partner with whom you could share clothes, shoes, and cosmetics, I don’t believe that you’re gay,” concludes Olivia. Though I notice she takes another look at my shitkicker boots over white sweat socks with cutoff shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt that says LEN’S TRACTOR PARTS on the front.

“No, I suppose not,” I say. I’ve never thought about a woman in that way before. And certainly none of those X-rated movies that Debbie’s boyfriend liked her to watch with him did anything for me.

“Just remember what I told you about safe sex. Some women say condoms aren’t so bad if they put them on, thereby incorporating the ritual into the mood.”

“Thanks.” I rise to go and water the gardens and the grass before the sun gets too hot.

As I’m leaving, Olivia calls after me. “Hallie.”

I stick my head back into the dining room.

“Do think carefully about this.” She pauses for a second as if she’s been debating whether or not to say this next part, but there’s a soft confiding expression in her eyes and she apparently decides to continue. “Something is gained, but something is also lost, and there’s no going back. It’s like building a beautiful temple—you can’t reclaim the grass, trees, and wildflowers that used to be there. It leaves a little indentation on the heart and soul, like a watermark on a good piece of stationery.”

But I don’t really feel as if there
is
a choice. It’s more like I’m already on a galloping horse that’s rushing headlong into the wind, and despite my anxiety, there’s no turning back.

Chapter Sixty-four

TODAY TURNS OUT TO BE ONE OF THOSE RARE INSTANCES WHERE everybody has someplace to go, and so by lunchtime I actually have the house to myself. Louise had aced her exams, although she continues to take Brandt his lunch down at the lab every day and often hangs out there while he works. Apparently she’s developed an interest in genetics and maintains charts on a professor’s rabbit experiment—crossing rabbits with different eye colors and then recording how the offspring turn out.

Even though it’s only Monday I’m a nervous wreck about the weekend. I mean, how much of what you read in books and see in movies is actually the way sex happens? Is there some sort of schedule where you go from A to B, and after fifteen minutes from B to C, and so forth? And what about Olivia’s suggestion about putting on the condom myself? How am I supposed to know how to put on a condom? I’ve never even looked at one before.

From underneath the bed in the summerhouse I retrieve the box of condoms that Herb gave me when I bought Louise’s pregnancy test. Carefully tearing open a purple foil package, I take out what appears to be a large rubber bottle cap. I try to unroll it but can’t figure out which way it’s supposed to open. Searching the back of the box for directions, all I find are a bunch of warnings. Apparently a condom is like shampoo and the makers assume that everyone automatically knows how to use it.

I’ve seen kids using condoms as balloons at school. So I decide to blow into it as a way of finding the right side. Only there’s some kind of slimy stuff covering the top that I didn’t see and my lips start to go numb, as if I’ve just had a shot of Novocain. Not only that, but it tastes terrible!

I go back to the house and rinse my mouth out with warm water. My lips feel as if they’re getting puffy. I dig through the crisper in the refrigerator until I find a zucchini. Pretending that it’s Ray, I attempt to unfurl the condom and get it onto the zucchini.

“Hallie, is that you?” Bernard rushes into the kitchen. “I forgot my checkbook and there’s an estate sale. . . .”

Shit. I must have been in the summerhouse when he came back. I drop the half-covered zucchini into the sink while I feel my cheeks catching fire.

Bernard digs his checkbook out from between several packages of nuts piled next to the bread machine. “They have a case of Staffordshire plates and platters. You know how August is, between the weddings and the garden parties, everyone’s thinking serve, serve, serve!”

I finally exhale, feeling safe that Bernard didn’t see what I was doing. “Right. I’m uh . . .”

The places on my lips and tongue where the gooey stuff hit has partially numbed them and I suddenly sound like my little sister Darlene. “I’m juhtt about to edgthe the front walk.”

“Right,” says Bernard. “Then I’ll see you at dinner.” He moves toward the archway that exits through the dining room.

“Thee you later,” I say.

He pokes his head back in. “It’s very responsible of you to make sure that the squash aren’t propagating in the crisper. Vegetable control is so important these days.”

Chapter Sixty-five

WE’RE JUST SITTING DOWN TO DINNER THAT EVENING WHEN THE phone rings. Great, I think. After I’ve completely embarrassed myself, Ray is calling to say that he’s not going to make it again. I leap up from the table and bolt into the kitchen.

However, it’s only Mrs. Farley looking for Bernard, which is not unusual. If those two aren’t talking about the adoption then they’re yammering away about decorating or gardening.

“Please tell him it’s urgent,” she says. From the sound of her voice it’s obvious that she’s nervous. All I can think is that Edwin the Turd has changed his mind and the adoption is off again. I call into the dining room, where Bernard is serving the salad and Olivia is explaining to Ottavio how Alexander Graham Bell, the inventor of the telephone, was a Unitarian.

Bernard takes the phone from me. “Mrs. Farley, how lovely to hear from you!” he says in his most charming manner. “And what perfect timing! I’ve discovered one of your lovely figurines in a lot I purchased at an estate sale this afternoon, the one with the little boy riding the blue dolphin.” Bernard turns and makes a face at me to indicate he’s never seen anything so
gauche
in his entire life.

There’s a long pause while Bernard listens. It’s not apparent from his expression whether Mrs. Farley is opining about her new statuette or if she’s relating more bad news.

“Special circumstances?” I hear Bernard ask with concern. “Yes, I see.”

Gil comes in and stands next to him, sensing that something is amiss.

There’s another long pause while Bernard listens. Olivia drifts in, to find the three of us all anxiously gathered around the phone.

“Of course, that’s fine. Tomorrow at three. Yes, we’ll be at the airport by two o’clock sharp.”

Did he just say
airport
?

After hanging up the phone Bernard crumples into a nearby chair without uttering a word.

“Is it the baby?” Gil the executive trainer is clearly mentally prepared for spontaneous parenthood.

Bernard appears to be in shock and doesn’t answer him.

“Is there something the matter with the child?” Olivia demands to know.

“Sisters,”
Bernard manages to gasp. “One is ten months and the other is two and a half. Both have a slight case of rickets that can easily be cured.”

Gil, Olivia, and I all hug each other with excitement.

“But I thought there’s a two-year waiting list for the first baby, and then you have to get on it again for the second one?” I ask.

“A couple from Columbus was picking them up in Beijing yesterday, when the husband was indicted for white-collar crime back in the States.” Bernard sounds like an automaton.

Ottavio enters the kitchen and Olivia explains to him in Italian since that’s faster.

“Due bambine!”
he says, clapping his hands together. One thing you can say for those Italians is they love anything that has to do with church or children. They must go absolutely wild at christenings since it’s a double-header.

However, Bernard does not appear to be at all excited.

Gil suddenly looks panic-stricken. “Oh my gosh!” he says. “There’s so much to
do
!”

“Yes,” agrees Olivia. She jumps into action. “Brandt leaves for school in a few days. He’ll have to relocate to the sunporch until then.”

Gil is right behind her. “I’ll call my office and take a personal day.”

Bernard is still sitting at the table, dumbstruck. “You know, I’m not sure this is such a good idea after all.” He reaches for the phone. “I think I should call and—”

Grabbing the receiver away from him, Gil shouts, “Oh, no you don’t! Those little girls just happen to be our
daughters
!”

“Hallie, make some tea and put a nice shot of scotch into Bertie’s,” says Olivia. She takes the notepad we use for shopping lists off the counter and places it in front of Bernard, along with a pen. “Now, take a memo—two car seats, sleepers, blankets, bedding, diapers, formula, diaper-rash cream . . .”

Bernard simply stares at the blank page.

“
Now,
Bernard!” says Olivia, “We have exactly twenty-four hours to construct a nursery for two children. Hop to it!”

Gil pulls the notepad away from him. “I’ve got it, keep going.”

I’m almost to the front door when I call out, “I have to tell Craig!” After all, if he hadn’t asked his father for help, then Bernard might never have been put back on the adoption list. I dash outside to where he was fixing the filter for the pond, but he’s already left. Rushing back inside I phone his house. “Craig’s out with some friends,” his mother tells me. Ouch. I wasn’t invited “out” anywhere tonight. I can’t help but wonder if he’s with friends in general or one specific friend, as in a date. But I have a date coming up as well and so I can’t exactly complain.

That evening as we all race through the department store in Timpany, Bernard still acts as if he’s in a trance, incapable of choosing between the circus mobile and the one with the Looney Tunes characters.

Fortunately Olivia has taken charge, and of course incorporated her own agenda. “Go for the cartoons. I don’t trust circuses to treat the animals properly.”