Kaleidocide (39 page)

I soon noticed the time, however, and realized that I would have to deal with all that later. I told the double so, ushering him out of the office to the press room, and the rest of the day went off without any major incident. Jon and Tara both made short statements that accomplished what I wanted them to, giving her the PR position and providing a convincing public appearance for Michael Ares. The only problem was that some of the wording of the statements, and the way they were delivered, hinted at what had gone on in the apartment earlier. This little turn of verbal events would put me in a bad spot with Lynn later, when she saw the broadcast.

But that danger to our marriage was nothing compared to what happened at the cottage later that night with Angelee. I found out for myself how easy it was to fall, how hard it should be to criticize Jon for doing so, and how we were more alike than I wanted to think.

 

35

ONE FLESH

On her way back from the hospital, Angelee was reviewing the events of the day in her mind, with an extreme mixture of happiness and dread.

The happiness came from the fact that Michael had saved Chris's life after the pool incident, the little boy had regained consciousness in the car on the way to the hospital, and the doctor had said he was okay and sent them home with some instructions for his care.

The dread came from the fact that also on the way to the hospital, Angelee started to feel a pain in the front of her head that she hadn't felt since the time she had been working the street, before her husband had delivered her from all that. And she knew exactly what the pain was, because it had been such a vivid experience for her every month back then. It had something to do with the contraceptive switch that had been installed in her brain, and it was a signal that she was about to get her period. As the tutorial holos about the switch had explained years before, and the brain doctor at the hospital confirmed when she asked him about it, the foreign implant introduced into the reproductive system caused electrical feedback and significant pressure on parts of the brain as menstruation was about to occur. As with the way the switch prevented ovulation, Angelee didn't understand how the technology worked—she just knew that it made PMS even harder for her and the other millions of women who used it.

She also knew from past experience that the pain would continue at various degrees for several hours at least, until she actually started bleeding, but that wasn't what filled her with dread. It meant that she might only have a few hours to be married to the man of her dreams, who was waiting for her back at the vineyard cottage. And she was afraid that if she didn't land him now, something might happen in the next week to prevent it. He had said originally that he only planned to stay there for a “couple weeks,” if she remembered correctly, and his life was clearly in flux. So she dreaded the thought of losing him somehow before they were joined together in an eternal bond, like she had with her first husband. She believed that God would make this bond last if they became “one flesh,” but if they didn't, she had no confidence that they would end up together.

She also
wanted
to be one with this beautiful man who had saved her son from death, and had saved her from a fate worse than death. And tonight had to be the night—she had the feeling that if it didn't happen tonight, it might never happen. That sense of desperation, and probably some effects of the implant on her brain, drove her toward some bold steps that she would never have taken otherwise.

She had prayed on the way to the hospital that Chris would be okay, and now she prayed on the way back that Michael would be hers that night. And not long after she had prayed for Chris, he awoke and sat up on the seat of the car! So she believed—at least, she tried to force herself to believe—that God would answer her other prayer as well. Her husband and others in their church had always said that if you had enough faith, you could move mountains and make almost anything happen. She never completely understood that, or even exactly how to conjure up that kind of belief, but she was willing to try anything to make this happen. She couldn't imagine a better life than one lived in the arms of this man.

Her daydreaming was interrupted by a hard stab of pain, far more intense than the headache she already had, and she had to pull off the road for a few minutes. This served to increase her sense of urgency for something to happen with Michael in the next few hours, because she remembered that these bolts of extreme pain always happened in the hours leading up to her period, and once that started, they wouldn't be able to become one. She might not be able to have a husband again, and Chris might never have a father.

When she was finally able to drive again, she got back on the road and made it back to the cottage without any further severe headaches. She was still in some degree of pain, but she pushed the discomfort out of her mind and determined to do all she could for make her dreams and prayers come true. Michael must have been told they had arrived by the security systems of the house, because he was waiting at the door after she had driven down the long lane through the vineyards. He stepped out to her and offered to take the medicated boy from her arms after she had lifted him out of the car, and carried him into the house for her. As she watched him do this, her heart began to pound in her chest and the pain in her head receded even further.

As Michael laid Chris on their bed, she whispered that the doctor had given him some medication that would allow him to rest and also would help him to recover. Michael whispered back that she should get the medmat from the living room, and he placed it under the boy so that the house could monitor his vitals in case of any relapse. Then they stepped quietly out of the room so they could talk, and she reported to him everything that had happened that day. He seemed genuinely glad to hear about it—he was so caring—and as she interacted with him, she bustled about the kitchen, picking out the best food she had purchased and putting it in the oven to heat it up for dinner. She hoped he hadn't eaten yet, and she wasn't disappointed, and when she was finished with the preparations she told him it would be ready in a few minutes and that she needed to freshen up.

She stepped back into her room and quietly changed into the nicest outfit she had, which was a slip-like underdress made out of black silk, with large holes on the sides at the top of her hips, and a smaller semitransparent overdress that was off-white with a thick swath of soft brown running diagonally across her chest and back. She put on her only shoes with heels, to shape her legs and make her taller, and added a thin black leather neck bracelet and some decent perfume that Simon had given her. Finally, she washed her face, made herself up as best she could, and pinned her hair in the style that had gotten her the most compliments through the years.

She tiptoed out of the room after admiring her sleeping boy, hoping again that he could have a father. Michael wasn't in the living area where she had left him, but she peered into the open door of his room and saw that the bathroom door was closed, so she knew he was in there.

Good!
she thought, and hurried out to the kitchen to grab some place settings and prepare the table. She finished it before he came back out, and managed to also make the room dimmer and light some candles.

“Wow, Angelee,” he said when he came out, “you didn't have to do all this.”

She didn't say anything, but straightened the place settings on the side of the table, then she pulled out a chair for him and gestured for him to sit down.

“We're celebrating that Chris is okay,” she said, and served the food to both their settings.

“Well, good,” he said. “I can use it. I had a bad day.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” She thought of asking him what happened to him, but then thought better of it. “I'm glad I can be here to make your day better, after you have a bad day. I will always be glad to do that.”

He stopped sipping the wine she had given him, just for a moment, but then resumed. She thought that maybe she should be more subtle, but then thought better of that as well—she had never been a good liar, nor was she able to “play” people. She had learned that it was always best for her to be honest, and not have to blame herself if things didn't go well. But she could show interest in him, because she was honestly interested in him.

“Have you had many other relationships?” she asked him as they ate. “Other than Tara, the one who owns this house?”

“Not many,” he said. “I was hard at work in the military, along with college and graduate school that they provided, since I was a teen. Didn't really have time for much else.”

“What did you study?”

“Mostly literature,” he said, “and writing. Besides the military stuff, of course.”

“What do you like to write?”

“Well, I haven't written much at all since school. But maybe someday I'll write about some of the things that have happened to me.”

“Like what?” she asked, and then immediately regretted it. She could tell he was hesitant, and didn't need to know more about his life. She knew enough from what she had seen and heard from him.

“Just some things,” he said graciously. “But what about you? Tell me about you. Do you want to write something?”

“No,” she said. “I don't write very good, or read that good either.” She stood up to pour him some more wine, and felt the pain in her head increase a bit as she did. “What I really want is to be a wife and mother, and that's what I'm good at, more than anything.”

“I'm sure you are,” he said, sipping at the new glass of wine. “In fact, I was just thinking that last night, when you left me that plate of food—which was good, by the way.”

“What were you thinking?” she asked, moving closer to him. He hesitated again, but then seemed to realize that he had to answer her, because he had already committed to this line of conversation.

“I was thinking what a good wife you would make,” he said finally, and then added with a slight emphasis, “for someone.” But Angelee didn't register this as a caveat—she was simply thrilled he had been thinking about her in this way, and was emboldened to say what she really wanted to say to him.

“I want to be one with you,” she said, and he almost spit out the wine that was in his mouth.

“Angelee,” he said, and searched for some words. “I'm not … we're not married.”

“But we can be, right now, before God. We say ‘I do' and we become one in every way. A man shall cleave to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.”

“But what about the government?” he said. “You know, like a marriage license?”

“The government didn't invent marriage. They don't say what it is or isn't. People are marrying animals in some places these days … is that really marriage? We'll be married in the eyes of the Lord—that's what counts.”

“I think…,” Michael said, then searched again for the words. “I think that one of the reasons that marriage is regulated by the state is so that someone can confirm that a person isn't married to someone else. But then again, they do multiple marriages, too, so maybe that doesn't apply.”

“Are you worried about me being married to someone else?” she asked. He laughed and shook his head, but she continued. “I'm not, and I'm not some kind of slut who just wants to sleep with you or anyone else for fun. I was willing to sell myself because I had no other way to feed my son, but what I want is to belong to you and you only, to help you, and take care of Chris. That is
not
a bad thing, and it's something that makes God happy. I'm sure of it.”

“No, uh, I agree,” he said. “I'm sure it's a good desire you have. I'm just not sure it is … the right time for it.”

“This has to be the time,” she said, moving closer to him. “After tonight we won't be able to … because of my cycle. I'm sorry to have to say something like that, but now you know why I'm being so bold. Please say ‘I do.' Chris and I both need you. You are the most special man I've ever met.”

“Special, hell,” he muttered after a brief groan. Or did he say “special hell”? She couldn't tell, but then she felt a tear rolling down her cheek, and wondered if that was the cause of his uneasiness. But she was determined to not miss this chance, and moved even closer to him.

And then the worst headache yet hit her. Her chin jerked down against her chest, her whole body lurched sideways, and she would have fallen all the way to the ground if Michael hadn't caught her and lowered her slowly to it. He kept saying, “Are you all right?” until she managed to say that it was her switch and that the pain would eventually stop.

“Why did you leave it on?” he asked her, as he carried her over to the couch. “When you could have turned it off and avoided this?”

“For you,” she forced out. He didn't seem to appreciate that sentiment very much, and then she realized that the thought of contraception, and therefore pregnancy, had probably jarred him out of whatever interest he might have had in being with her tonight.

“It isn't the right time,” he said, confirming what she thought. “That's what I said, and this shows that I was right.”

Michael told Vera to turn off her switch, and she was amazed that the house could actually do it. Then he got some pain reliever pills and water from the kitchen, and made her take them, caressing her head tenderly in a way that made her want him even more, despite the pain.

“When I get better…,” she said through clenched teeth, trying to smile.

“Yeah, we can talk more about this in a week or so, when you're better. That will give us more time to … to get to know each other.”

She had meant when she felt better
tonight,
of course, but her disappointment was lessened by the fact that he wasn't rejecting her, at least. He was implying that they could possibly be married—she would just have to wait for a week or so. She was disappointed, but also strangely felt a sense of relief, as if she didn't have to make this happen, because she
couldn't
make this happen. She thought that maybe this was what her former husband always meant by “trusting God,” though she also thought that it would be hard to trust in a God who brought her so close to a man like this and then took him away from her.