SEED MONEY
by Neil Douglas Newton
I lay back, satiated, listening the strains of the jazz we had put on before we’d stumbled home, drunk and silly. The result of our inebriation was what you’d expect from a pair of thirty somethings that had been in a monogamous relationship for the past six months; Selene lay beside me, a patina of sweat a testament to what we’d just done.
Things hadn’t always been so perfect. We had met three years earlier and, somewhere around a year and a half into our relationship I had made a stupid mistake. Her name was Jeniffer and she’d come into my life right after category five argument with Selene in which we’d said the worst things we could have possibly said to each other. She was the jealous type and her assumptions about my intent to cheat on her were fueled by past bad experiences. They were irrational and the entire issue had started to wear on my patience. This particular argument was over a woman at a party who had acted friendly toward me. While she was drunk and a bit to effusive, the entire incident was blown out of proportion.
Once the constant accusations of infidelity had reach critical mass, I had decided that Selene should be a thing of the past and it was in the back of my mind to expedite that state of affairs. After the argument, Selene had stormed out of my apartment and I was on my way to my favorite bar. Anger accelerates the ingestion of alcohol, at least in my case and what followed was the expected compromise of my judgement. A certain Jenifer appeared through my alcoholic haze and, on finding I was a writer, albeit a technical one, went out of her way to monopolize my time. I saw a few other women give me a look but Jennifer had made it her business to seem like my girlfriend.
I was a waste as far as defending my interests and, fueled by anger, I’m not sure I had any interests, only an agenda and not a particularly important one. I was at her apartment, down in the Village, a couple of hours later. I won’t go into graphic detail; suffice it to say that she did her best to act like a porn star. She was perhaps the tenth woman I’d met in my life who thought that porn sex was a turn on to any man they met. I performed well but was less than enthusiastic, finding her over the top ministrations distracting and silly.
And so, I committed a stupid act for a stupid reason. Of course this became obvious the next morning as I looked at a woman sleeping next to me who I barely remembered. My head was pounding and I stumbled into her bathroom to look for aspirin. Jennifer came in behind me, putting her arms around me; she obviously remembered the previous night differently. When I didn’t turn around and respond she got the idea. I finally turned and gave her a sad smile.
“What?” she asked. I wasn’t sure what the question was.
“You found a drunk angry man. Though a lot of it is a blur I wonder why you expected anything to come of it.”
She dry washed her hands; I suspected she had been through situations like this before. “I thought that we had shared something. What we said…” She trailed off.
“I don’t know that nothing will come of it. But right now I don’t know you well enough to confirm anything.”
She pivoted around so she wasn’t looking at me. “So this is it.”
“I don’t know. I just met you. I don’t think that any woman who meets me for the first time is required to decide the future right off. The same goes for me.”
I realized I had come off as angry. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”
I left her standing there. And that seemed like the end of it. But Selene continued to be a butt. The smallest indication that there might have been flirtation between me and any other woman, meaning none, would set her off. She would grill me if I stayed late at work. And every few weeks I would become enraged and I’d end up back at that same bar. And Jennifer was a regular. And each time I saw her I was angry. Again.
This pattern persisted for about four months and finally I had had it. I told Selene about Jenifer and put an end to the whole relationship; knowing her level of jealousy, Jenifer was a perfect lever to destroy my relationship with Selene. I stayed away from that bar; I didn’t need more pointless drama in my life even though I was alone. For a year I stayed away from Selene. It wasn’t difficult; with actual evidence of infidelity she would be time bomb and there would have been months of rehashing my affair with Jenifer. Of course I knew that I should have just broken it off with Jenifer in the first place but we are never so wise under fire.
I’ll admit that I missed Selene. My only sense of enjoyment was that I knew that, more than anything else she would have wanted to rub my infidelity in my face and she couldn’t. It was almost a year before I met her again, by accident, at a mutual friend’s party. We spoke and I was more than hesitant to even have a conversation with her. As the evening went by I was shocked to find that, again and again, she would take the high road where before she would take offense over just about anything. There were no recriminations about my affair and no apparent jealousy.
I finally asked her about it. She smiled and told me she’d taken stock of herself during the last year. I was shocked enough by her transformation that we ended up in a bar afterward. In the weeks that followed, our time together increased exponentially though I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. To my unutterable amazement, it never came. No angry outbursts. No self-righteous speeches. No accusations of infidelity.
I found myself in a comfortable rhythm with Selene. And six months later, as I lay in my bed feeling satiated, I marveled at the bizarre nature of life, how things could morph so completely. I rolled over and grabbed my plastic running bottle full of orange juice and took a healthy swig. Then I lay there, debating whether I should find out what Selene was doing and why she wasn’t with me. As I pondered the possibilities I fell asleep.
I woke up suddenly, noticing immediately that I was still alone. I became a bit suspicious at Selene’s long absence. A look at the clock allowed me to estimate that I’d been sleeping for two hours. There was no sound from the television so that only left the bathroom.
I waited until my curiosity got the better of me and overcame my desire to go back to sleep. I padded out to the living room and saw the light spilling out beneath the bathroom door. Three hours in the bathroom? I suddenly got a bad feeling; how many stories had I heard about sudden, debilitating illnesses. I debated what to do and my fear got the better of me; I pushed the door open. And saw the oddest thing anyone could have imagined under the circumstances. There was Selene laying a vial into some bubble wrap at the bottom of a heavy duty plastic cooler. The vial was surrounded by at least ten more. There was a bit of frost on at least a few of them, suggesting some time in a freezer. Her head jerked around and she made a noise somewhere between a scream and a sob. I leaned forward and saw that the vials contained what looked like milk. And then there was only one conclusion that fit.
“What the fuck?”
Her face hardened. “I hate you,” she hissed.
“What have you been doing all this time? Has this been a joke? This is the real you isn’t it? Hate. Just like always.”
Her lower lip trembled. “That’s me. You cheated on me. I always knew you would.”
“I’m not having this argument again. I got away from you or at least I thought I did. Here we are again. If you have any concern about anyone else finding out about this you better tell me what you’re doing.”
“Punishing you!”
“For what. For doing exactly what you kept accusing me of when I never did anything! Until I couldn’t stand you anymore! I should have just told you to go away. You can’t blame me for not being responsible. Not when you dumped your psychosis on me for months.” I gestured toward the cooler. “And what the fuck is that? What are you going to say to justify that? What is this all about?”
She lay on the floor and put her head against the tiles, not looking at me. Then she told me a story.
It had been during the year when Selene had mercifully been out of my life. I had been so agitated that I took three of the many vacation weeks I’d accumulated at work. For reasons I’ll never know, I went to the Falklands. Maybe it was as remote and unknown a location as I could think of; I had never met anyone who’d actually been to the Falklands. I wanted to be in a place where the idea of a Selene was as far from reality as possible.
It was everything I hoped it would be. I arrived in a new fairytale land that I’d never seen before, as far from what New York is that I was felt free for the first time in years. Selene was non-existent, a memory, one I knew would recede from my consciousness like an old stomach virus. The Falklands was so clean and “non-urban”. The lack of so-called sophistication was beyond refreshing. I wandered down the beach, eating myself into near insensibility at various restaurants. At night I would find a bar and become the resident Yank. There were a few indications that I could have had some “assignations” but, after Selene, I wasn’t really interested in any possibility of romantic drama. I was free and I liked it.
It was the fourth day of my vacation. I was sitting in a restaurant by the beach when I let my guard down. I was staring at the water, letting my mind drift when a voice knocked me out of my reverie.
“A Yank I’d guess.”
I turned to see a face staring curiously at me. Dark blonde hair, big butt. Curvy but not my type. I was a willowy leggy enthusiast. Still there was something childlike and charming about her. “I can’t deny it,” I answered. “I’m not good with accents. I can’t pretend I’m not American.”
“Where are you from?”
“New York.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Really. I had a friend from upstate. Do you mean the state or the city?”
“The city.”
“Oooo. Big city man.”
“You get used to it. Like anywhere else. It seems normal.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true.”
She paused. “Am I bothering you?”
I realized I was probably not being very friendly, winding down from the fires of hell as I was. “No. Sorry. I’m just sort of recovering.”
“Were you sick?”
I laughed. “No. Nothing like that. The end of the armpit of all relationships.”
“A divorce?”
“Thank God no! If it had gone that far I’d have killed myself.”
She nodded as though she knew what I was saying. “I think I’ve been there.”
I nodded back. She waited a second to see if I would show some enthusiasm. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to your winding down.”
I felt like a jerk. My staying with Selene for so long was my fault, not this woman’s. I didn’t need to be an asshole to someone who hadn’t done me any harm. “I’ve spent the last few days alone. Why don’t you have a drink? On me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. I’m here to enjoy myself. I need conversation with someone who isn’t from New York.”
“I don’t think I can keep up with a New Yorker when it comes to conversation.”
That made me laugh, harder than I thought I would; I think it startled her. “Sorry,” I said, still laughing.
“Everyone in Manhattan is so suave. You can get tired of it sometimes. Sit?”
She came over and sat across from me. “Are you hungry?”
“Actually yes. Mussels?”
“I could go for that. They’re better down here. Deeper and the flavor is less funky.”
“Funky. Real American word.”
“I guess I’m quaint here.”
“I wonder if you think we’re quaint.”
“I guess so. It’s really beautiful”.
“So what do you do?”
As I engaged in conversation I realize that I’d opened myself up to flirting. For some reason, despite Selene, this didn’t bother me; I was free and I had just met this woman.
Her name was Tessa. We had dinner that evening and she seemed fascinated by my life as a an tech writer, something that I considered to be like watching paint dry but a lot more annoying. I found her to be charming but there was something missing. That something kept eating at me while I was trying to remain enthusiastic. Perhaps it was her obvious intense interest in after knowing me for such a short time. Whatever it was, I couldn’t quite pin it down.
We walked along the beach and we talked about what we were doing vs. what we really wanted to be doing. It seemed like a preparation for a closer relationship. My antennae went up; I was interested but not enough to jump into bed with her that night; I was getting the feeling that that was her goal and it both frightened and annoyed me.
Somewhere around eleven I felt it was time to make my break. I begged off before she could even invite me to her house. I actually had developed a fever on the trip down which didn’t seem to be going away; I’m not one who travels well. I told her I needed to get some sleep. Once I left her I considered whether I wanted to start a relationship that I knew would end in a few weeks. Certainly she’d made it clear that a relationship was welcome. But who would put themselves in that kind of position?
Maybe she was just the type who liked to have fun and I was being prude. But I wanted it to be my choice, not hers.
She was not gracious but remained under control. I wondered what she expected of me, someone she had just met. I left things vague, letting her think I’d call her but not letting her think it was going to lead anywhere. While I considered another bar, I wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t find me; there were only so many bars on the island. So I ended the evening in my hotel room watching “Back to the future”.
The next day I was a spared deciding whether I should call her. Around 9:30 she called me. While I was wary, I was still attracted to her. Despite her living in an isolated community she was extraordinarily intelligent and sophisticated. I wanted to ignore her but I couldn’t quite let it go.
I met her at the same restaurant where we first met. When I got there she was drinking a margarita.
“Ah, you are brave.”
She giggled and I felt my stomach turn over. I was hooked. Damn.
I sat down. “I happen to hate tequila.”
“Well, I noticed that you were drinking gin yesterday. Gin is the devil’s drink.”
“I never looked at it that way.” Just then the waiter came up and I ordered a beefeater Gibson. Tessa smiled. “Are you going to behave?” she asked archly. It was a cheap remark, designed to excite me. To my surprise it seemed to work.
“Well I am on vacation.”
Four hours later I was at her house where she offered to make me dinner. I noticed some serious weight lifting equipment and commented on it. Her back was to me and I could see her stiffen. “Left here by a friend. He stayed her for a while. I’ve had some financial troubles and he helped me out by helping with the bills. He slept on the couch.” She never turned around.
“So he’s not here now?”
“No, that was just for a short time.”
“Why did he leave his weights?”
“Uh… he had to leave quickly. Something about his job.”
“Big guy, huh?”
She giggled again. ”Yeah. We used to call him “Gorilla”.
I nodded, taking in the couch. I doubted I could sleep there. If “Gorilla” was bigger than me, which seemed likely, he could never have fit his body on that couch, much less slept there. It began to occur to me where he most likely slept. I supposed it was none of my business.
She brought me a Martini. “The second liquor store had Beefeater. I thought you should see that we’re not unsophisticated here.”
“Thanks. I could have made do with wine.”
She shrugged. “Dinner should be ready in about half an hour.” She went into the kitchen and checked some sauce she was making. ”So that armpit of a relationship? Was she mad that you left?”
“She would have been mad if I stayed. Or if I had tuna instead of bologna. Mad is what she does best.”
“So there’s no chance that you’ll make up?”
I guffawed. “That’s like asking if there’s a chance I’ll eat glass!”
She smiled softly. “Sometimes it’s time to move on.”
“I guess so.”
“Have you ever considered just leaving New York? Going somewhere else?”
“Whoa! That’s a big question. I’ve lived there all my life.”
“Sometimes change is good.”
Throughout the rest of the evening, that little exchange stayed in my mind. What sane woman would start talking about the future with a man she’d just met? But I knew that’s what she was doing. And later on when I found some action movies I found out there was another “Gorilla”, this time named Spike. He also had stayed on the couch to help her out. I began to put it all together.
After dinner she sat on that same couch. Even in my drunken haze it seemed that she was a little too close. “I hate to ask you. But I’ve hit some hard times. Do you think you can lend me twenty pounds. I promise I’ll get it back to you before you leave.”
I debated leaving but I figured her request gave me a good reason to give up on the idea of whether we were going to sleep together, something that I could tell was going to be an issue. Once she asked me for money, I felt I was no longer obligated to consider a relationship. “Sure.” I pulled out my wallet and counted out the unfamiliar money with difficulty before I handed it to her. Then I stood up. “Well I’m still feeling crappy. So I’m going to go to the hotel. Thanks for dinner. And the Beefeater.” I smiled as though I’d just made a joke.
Her face fell. “Oh. Okay. I hope the twenty pounds didn’t put you off. I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t desperate. Things haven’t been great the last few months.”
“I understand. I’ve been there. I’m just not feeling well.”
“Well I hope I’ll see you again.”
“Let me see how I feel tomorrow. Honestly, I’m not feeling very confident about relationships right now. I just got away from the buzz saw that I was with for over a year.”
“Oh. Okay. Well thanks for the money. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Let’s see how I feel.”
“Okay.”
“Good night.”
I wondered, as I walked back to my hotel, if I she had planned for me to be the next “man on the couch”. I wanted to kick myself. I had just left New York and Selene a few days ago and here I was fending off another attack by a female. I guess I had fooled myself into thinking that Selene had made me tough but maybe she’d made me hungry for anything that made me feel like I was worthy of a decent relationship. Tessa had seen me coming and, for some reason, she thought I was stupid enough to fall for it. Maybe I was and she had just been more obvious than she thought she was.
I sat at the bar in my hotel and knocked back a few martinis, feeling like a fool. I looked at some of the women around me and wondered if I should just get it over with and sleep with someone else, washing away the stink of both Selene and Tessa. Somehow it didn’t seem like an answer.
The next day I slept late. Walking through the lobby of my hotel I saw the one person I didn’t want to see. “I just wanted to apologize for putting you off last night. I probably shouldn’t have asked you for money. I’m just desperate.”
My night’s sleep hadn’t improved my mood and my sense of failure. “I understand. The money isn’t an issue. I just got out of the worst relationship ever. I’m not ready to even think about another relationship.”
I began to walk past her but she followed me. “I don’t know what I did wrong. I didn’t ask you to get into another relationship. Maybe you have the idea that you’re such a great catch that I couldn’t help myself. I was just wanted to get to know you. Is that so horrifying?”
I wasn’t in the mood to ruin the rest of my vacation considering how much I needed it. I thought of the other “guys on the couch” and I felt sick. “No. But I told you I can’t do anything but try to get my head back together. Sorry.”
I walked farther. She walked behind me. “You’re just like the rest of them! You treat me like shit and then you leave. I hate you! I shouldn’t have given my affection to you. You don’t deserve it! I have to survive!”
I turned around. “What kind of relationship are you going to have with another human being if all you’re going to do is survive?”
She gave me a look of complete incomprehension.
“I hardly know you. Two days. That’s it. What do you think I owe you? Is this the way all your relationships go? Take two days to create what takes years to build? How could it ever work out?”
“You’re just a-“
“Find someone else for the couch. There’s always someone who’ll be willing. That’s the top of your ambition isn’t it?”
Her mouth flew open and she began crying. I walked away.
I spent the rest of the day sitting on the beach. I knew she wouldn’t be looking for me. The next day I took a taxi up the coast to a bed and breakfast I’d read about on the internet. The rest of the trip was a confrontation with myself and my sense of failure. In a way I couldn’t blame Tessa for that. It was really where I was in my head and I’d just been running away from it.
I should have expected that Tessa would not go quietly, though at the time I couldn’t have known why I’d see her again. It was only days before I found Selene with the cooler. I was making coffee when the doorbell range.
And there she was, a smirk on her face. I shook my head. “We spent two days together, barely. We had no relationship to speak of. Don’t you have better things to do with your life then waste all the money and time to come here? I suppose you think I owe you something.”
She snorted. “I’ll have you know that I am a businesswoman, here on some very important deals that I’m working on. I’m not just the little poor girl you met back home. You just found me in a bad part of my life. There’s more to me than that.”
“Yes I know. There is the couch. That was a career in itself.”
She shrugged. “It served its purpose at the time. You do what you have to do.”
“I know. To survive. How did you get up here?”
"I told your doorman I was your cousin. You may not remember how drunk you were when we were together. I know a good bit more about you than you know. He’s the suspicious type so it took me a while to convince him. We had a nice long talk and he grilled me. A lot of your neighbors got to hear some of it. Including a Mrs. Garvotti who I think must have been a government interrogator at one time. Are all Americans so curious?”
“Oh God. Mrs. Garvotti thinks she’s fighting crime and corruption in our building. You’ve gotten to see a dying breed in New York: the annoying busybody old lady. Most people in the City mind their own business.”
“Are you going to ask me in?”
“You hate me, remember? Why do you want to come into my home?”
“I figure I owe you an apology. I am here on business. And I figure I was a bitch back home. Poverty will do that to you. The couch wasn’t the only shameful thing in my existence back then. I had to do a lot of things that compromised my dignity. But I shouldn’t have blamed it all on you. Things are better now. Time to make amends.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I don’t care if you do or not. I’m offering an apology. Take it or leave it. What other reason would I come up here?”
I debated it in my mind; I didn’t trust her but I couldn’t think of a reason that told me she was lying. In the end I figured it was easier to spend a little time with her than it would be to throw her out, with all the arguing that would follow. Tessa wasn’t stable enough to take rejection with a smile.
I gestured her in. In a few minutes we were sitting on the couch making small talk and drinking some of my cheap read wine. I watched her carefully for signs that this wasn’t what she’d told me it was: a simple making of amends and not a play for more of my money and a possible relationship. I didn’t see any negative signs; she sat calmly and discussed her business venture and, without any recriminations, our ill-fated two days together.
An hour later she was up and moving to the door. “Sorry I can’t stay longer. I have to meet someone. Say hello to Mrs. Garvotti for me.”
“I will. Good luck.”
And she was gone.
How did she find you?” I asked Selene.
She wiped at some tears in her eyes. “She’d seen some old posts that included me on Facebook. So she contacted me. You’d told her about me.”
“And her appearance a few days ago? I can guess but I’d like to confirm it.”
She paused. “Proof that you spent some time alone with her. People will draw their own conclusions about what happened.”
“ As I thought. What were you hoping to accomplish? I know what you were going to do with those vials. But how would it have helped you?”
“I’ve already answered that. You hurt me. You hurt her. You deserve to lose something. Your freedom. Your money. Whatever. I figure we could ruin your life. Anything short of killing you for what you did.”
“Oh God. After two days she thought she owned me. And treated me like a bank. I don’t owe her anything. Or you.”
“I’m not going to discuss this with you. You don’t understand.”
“No I don’t understand insanity. The questions is how much you want to stop people from hearing about what you’ve done which is like something out of Frankenstein.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t want the entire world to know about this,” I shouted, pointing at the cooler, “then you’ll do what I say.”
She looked like a deer in the headlights.
A year later Tessa came to New York. When I picked her up at Kennedy Airport; she had a shit eating grin on her face. She carried a baby in her lap. I smiled at the sight of him. I’ve always loved babies.
“You didn’t think this would happen, did you?”
I kept my face blank. “Of course not.”
“I’ve always wanted to live in New York.” She stared at me, waiting for a reaction.
“I can say with confidence that it doesn’t live up to its hype.”
“Sour grapes.”
I dared a smile. I didn’t want to give it away.
“You could have worked with me,” she taunted.
“Worked. Are all your relationships work? An arrangement? Do you think something like that is going to last?”
“You’re too romantic. You believe in love.”
“It hasn’t always seemed possible but I remain hopeful.”
“You’re a fool.”
“And I think that your life is over. Has been over.”
“We’ll see. We have a meeting with a DNA expert.”
“Whatever he says doesn’t change anything I’ve said.”
The baby, who I’d come to know was named Terrance, made a typical baby noise. “Terrance knows what is true, don’t you, sugar?”
“He’s cute. Do you love him?”
Her face darkened. “Of course I do.”
“Excuse me, but I don’t see love as being part of your scheme. If you loved him you’d want to keep him for yourself. You wouldn’t need me.”
“You’re part of this whether you want to be or not.”
“True love.”
She stared at me, clearly wondering why I was being so contentious. From her point of view I should have been kissing her ass, hoping for the best outcome.
We remained quiet until we arrived at the DNA lab on the Upper East Side. Terrance began to coo as she lifted him out of the car. “It will all be fine in a few minutes, Terry,” Tessa told the baby.
“No doubt,” I said.
Paulson genetic testing was on the eighty-ninth floor. We met the receptionist who offered us bottled water. Naïf paintings festooned the wall. The carpet was deep pile in an off green shade. I could tell Tessa smelled money, something that satisfied some need she had for importance; she smiled. We were ushered into a small room with an oval shaped table. Within a few minutes a middle aged man joined us. The receptionist ran in. “Madame. Do you breast feed or would you like formula?”
Tessa laughed. “He’s been fed recently. Thank you.”
“Certainly Madame.”
Our doctor sat across from us. “I’m Dr. Boolchand. And this must be Terrance.”
“Yes,” Tessa confirmed, smiling broadly. As though she was confirming that she had a hole card. Not like a mother.
“Well I’ll get right to it. I’ve reviewed the results of our tests. We do double testing to be sure. All part of the service.”
I nodded. “We would expect nothing less.”
Tessa gave me look; I was being far too cooperative.
“Here are the results. Mr. Garth,” he said to me. “Ms. Feld,” he said to Tessa. “The chances that Terrance is the son of Mr. Garth is one in five billion. In layman’s terms it is impossible that Mr. Garth is Terrance’s father.”
Tessa’s eyes bulged. Her head shook convulsively for several seconds. “What?” she gasped.
“Well I always have to explain that this is an issue of probabilities. Meaning that while It’s possible that Mr. Garth is Terrance’s father, it is so unlikely as to be impossible.”
Tessa’s face turned red. She tightened her grasp on the baby as though it might help her cause. “That’s not possible.”
Boolchand smiled. “Possible but unlikely.”
“No. It’s bloody impossible.”
“I’ve had this discussion before, too many times. I’m not happy to bring bad news. But the reality is that it is very unlikely that Terrance is Mr. Garth’s son.”
“No. It is impossible that he is not his father.”
“We can run these tests again. But I think the results will be the same.
“This is some kind of trick.” She turned to me. “How much did you pay them to do this?”
I laughed. Dr. Boolchand shook his head. “I’m sorry Ms. Feld. You can go to another lab but you’ll find the same thing. We are bonded and our reputation is excellent. I can give you references if you like.”
“I can’t believe this!”
I remained silent; I was enjoying this. “Fuck you,” Tessa hissed. She stood up and left. I smiled at Boolchand who seemed disgusted. “Thank you for your time,” I told him.
I followed Tessa to the elevator. “This isn’t going to stand!” she shouted.
“There isn’t much you can do.”
“There’s a lot I can bloody do!”
“I’d suggest lowering you voice. This is New York. People call the police.”
“I don’t care! I’ll sue you! You’ll wish you never met me.”
“Sue me for what?”
“Money. I’ll get as much as I can.”
“Since Terrance isn’t my child I think I’d call that extortion. Or attempted extortion. But remember something. You are not a citizen here. You can’t stay here more than a few months and I’m not jumping up to help you. You’re on your own.”
“I’m going to figure out how you did this.”
“And do what?”
The elevator opened its doors and we stepped in. “I’m going to get money from you.”
I shook my head as we began to descend. “Extortion. And you have no basis for a suit.”
Her face hardened and she said nothing. We finished our ride down in silence. We walked out into the lobby. She whirled on me. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”
“Extortion. Threats of violence. You’re racking up a lot of possible charges for an alien. You’ll be deported in a few days if you go on like this.”
“Do you think I can just go back home and live happily ever after? I have no money except what you’ve given me so far.”
“You could get a job but I doubt you’d keep it. Wait! Stop talking. There’s a diner down the block. Let’s go there. I can help you. But you have to stop being…you.”
“What?”
“Just come with me.”
She stared at the floor for a few seconds. “Whatever you say.”
We walked to the diner, taking a booth near the front door. Terrance gurgled. “He is cute. He would have been cuter if he’d been mine. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”
The waitress came; I ordered a bowl of clam chowder and an English muffin. Tessa seemed confused by the enormous menu. Finally she ordered a cheeseburger and fries.
She wouldn’t meet my eyes so I forged ahead. “Terrance’s father is a good man. You have an opportunity here to get what you want.”
“What is that? Why do you think you know what I want?”
“Twenty pounds in the Falklands. Extortion here. It’s obvious. You’d use your own child as a tool to get money. You brought him all the way here just to get money.”
She looked away. “Whatever you say.”
“You have two choices. I can manage to get you deported and you’ll go back to the Falklands. Knowing you, things won’t be good for you then. So I’m giving you a choice. You take one hundred and fifty thousand U.S. dollars, sign away your rights to Terrance and leave the country. Or you leave with Terrance and we don’t hear from you again. The money would set you up for life if you’re careful.”
“If I’m such an awful mother why would you let me leave with him?”
“I’m betting on what I know about you.”
She smiled. “Maybe I’ll just leave just to rub your nose in it.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Can I ask who the father is?”
“A friend of mine. He…helped me a while back. He’s very generous. And he’s my friend. He’s had trouble adopting a child. You’ve solved his problem.”
“Is his wife unable to give birth?”
“In a manner of speaking. He’s gay.”
“What?”
“Terrance couldn’t have a better father.”
“What did he do that has stopped him from adopting.”
“Just like anyone else. Red tape. Lack of available babies.”
“So my child won’t have a mother.”
It was my turn to smile. “Nothing new there.”
She showed her teeth like a feral dog. It seemed appropriate.
Selene moved to California after Tessa went back home alone. There was always the chance that someone would find out what she’d done and how crazy she was. She was nothing if not full of pride. And there were the occasional threats I made of prosecuting her. I couldn’t tell for certain that there were any charges I could level against her but I made a point of trotting out the possibility over and over. I had become the resentful one and I was able to outdo her.
I remained celibate for two years. I had thought it would be difficult but in the end not testing fate seemed a lot better than simply finding a mate and satisfying my baser urges. In the end it really wasn’t that bad. Calm is good.
Things hadn’t always been so perfect. We had met three years earlier and, somewhere around a year and a half into our relationship I had made a stupid mistake. Her name was Jeniffer and she’d come into my life right after category five argument with Selene in which we’d said the worst things we could have possibly said to each other. She was the jealous type and her assumptions about my intent to cheat on her were fueled by past bad experiences. They were irrational and the entire issue had started to wear on my patience. This particular argument was over a woman at a party who had acted friendly toward me. While she was drunk and a bit to effusive, the entire incident was blown out of proportion.
Once the constant accusations of infidelity had reach critical mass, I had decided that Selene should be a thing of the past and it was in the back of my mind to expedite that state of affairs. After the argument, Selene had stormed out of my apartment and I was on my way to my favorite bar. Anger accelerates the ingestion of alcohol, at least in my case and what followed was the expected compromise of my judgement. A certain Jenifer appeared through my alcoholic haze and, on finding I was a writer, albeit a technical one, went out of her way to monopolize my time. I saw a few other women give me a look but Jennifer had made it her business to seem like my girlfriend.
I was a waste as far as defending my interests and, fueled by anger, I’m not sure I had any interests, only an agenda and not a particularly important one. I was at her apartment, down in the Village, a couple of hours later. I won’t go into graphic detail; suffice it to say that she did her best to act like a porn star. She was perhaps the tenth woman I’d met in my life who thought that porn sex was a turn on to any man they met. I performed well but was less than enthusiastic, finding her over the top ministrations distracting and silly.
And so, I committed a stupid act for a stupid reason. Of course this became obvious the next morning as I looked at a woman sleeping next to me who I barely remembered. My head was pounding and I stumbled into her bathroom to look for aspirin. Jennifer came in behind me, putting her arms around me; she obviously remembered the previous night differently. When I didn’t turn around and respond she got the idea. I finally turned and gave her a sad smile.
“What?” she asked. I wasn’t sure what the question was.
“You found a drunk angry man. Though a lot of it is a blur I wonder why you expected anything to come of it.”
She dry washed her hands; I suspected she had been through situations like this before. “I thought that we had shared something. What we said…” She trailed off.
“I don’t know that nothing will come of it. But right now I don’t know you well enough to confirm anything.”
She pivoted around so she wasn’t looking at me. “So this is it.”
“I don’t know. I just met you. I don’t think that any woman who meets me for the first time is required to decide the future right off. The same goes for me.”
I realized I had come off as angry. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”
I left her standing there. And that seemed like the end of it. But Selene continued to be a butt. The smallest indication that there might have been flirtation between me and any other woman, meaning none, would set her off. She would grill me if I stayed late at work. And every few weeks I would become enraged and I’d end up back at that same bar. And Jennifer was a regular. And each time I saw her I was angry. Again.
This pattern persisted for about four months and finally I had had it. I told Selene about Jenifer and put an end to the whole relationship; knowing her level of jealousy, Jenifer was a perfect lever to destroy my relationship with Selene. I stayed away from that bar; I didn’t need more pointless drama in my life even though I was alone. For a year I stayed away from Selene. It wasn’t difficult; with actual evidence of infidelity she would be time bomb and there would have been months of rehashing my affair with Jenifer. Of course I knew that I should have just broken it off with Jenifer in the first place but we are never so wise under fire.
I’ll admit that I missed Selene. My only sense of enjoyment was that I knew that, more than anything else she would have wanted to rub my infidelity in my face and she couldn’t. It was almost a year before I met her again, by accident, at a mutual friend’s party. We spoke and I was more than hesitant to even have a conversation with her. As the evening went by I was shocked to find that, again and again, she would take the high road where before she would take offense over just about anything. There were no recriminations about my affair and no apparent jealousy.
I finally asked her about it. She smiled and told me she’d taken stock of herself during the last year. I was shocked enough by her transformation that we ended up in a bar afterward. In the weeks that followed, our time together increased exponentially though I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. To my unutterable amazement, it never came. No angry outbursts. No self-righteous speeches. No accusations of infidelity.
I found myself in a comfortable rhythm with Selene. And six months later, as I lay in my bed feeling satiated, I marveled at the bizarre nature of life, how things could morph so completely. I rolled over and grabbed my plastic running bottle full of orange juice and took a healthy swig. Then I lay there, debating whether I should find out what Selene was doing and why she wasn’t with me. As I pondered the possibilities I fell asleep.
I woke up suddenly, noticing immediately that I was still alone. I became a bit suspicious at Selene’s long absence. A look at the clock allowed me to estimate that I’d been sleeping for two hours. There was no sound from the television so that only left the bathroom.
I waited until my curiosity got the better of me and overcame my desire to go back to sleep. I padded out to the living room and saw the light spilling out beneath the bathroom door. Three hours in the bathroom? I suddenly got a bad feeling; how many stories had I heard about sudden, debilitating illnesses. I debated what to do and my fear got the better of me; I pushed the door open. And saw the oddest thing anyone could have imagined under the circumstances. There was Selene laying a vial into some bubble wrap at the bottom of a heavy duty plastic cooler. The vial was surrounded by at least ten more. There was a bit of frost on at least a few of them, suggesting some time in a freezer. Her head jerked around and she made a noise somewhere between a scream and a sob. I leaned forward and saw that the vials contained what looked like milk. And then there was only one conclusion that fit.
“What the fuck?”
Her face hardened. “I hate you,” she hissed.
“What have you been doing all this time? Has this been a joke? This is the real you isn’t it? Hate. Just like always.”
Her lower lip trembled. “That’s me. You cheated on me. I always knew you would.”
“I’m not having this argument again. I got away from you or at least I thought I did. Here we are again. If you have any concern about anyone else finding out about this you better tell me what you’re doing.”
“Punishing you!”
“For what. For doing exactly what you kept accusing me of when I never did anything! Until I couldn’t stand you anymore! I should have just told you to go away. You can’t blame me for not being responsible. Not when you dumped your psychosis on me for months.” I gestured toward the cooler. “And what the fuck is that? What are you going to say to justify that? What is this all about?”
She lay on the floor and put her head against the tiles, not looking at me. Then she told me a story.
It had been during the year when Selene had mercifully been out of my life. I had been so agitated that I took three of the many vacation weeks I’d accumulated at work. For reasons I’ll never know, I went to the Falklands. Maybe it was as remote and unknown a location as I could think of; I had never met anyone who’d actually been to the Falklands. I wanted to be in a place where the idea of a Selene was as far from reality as possible.
It was everything I hoped it would be. I arrived in a new fairytale land that I’d never seen before, as far from what New York is that I was felt free for the first time in years. Selene was non-existent, a memory, one I knew would recede from my consciousness like an old stomach virus. The Falklands was so clean and “non-urban”. The lack of so-called sophistication was beyond refreshing. I wandered down the beach, eating myself into near insensibility at various restaurants. At night I would find a bar and become the resident Yank. There were a few indications that I could have had some “assignations” but, after Selene, I wasn’t really interested in any possibility of romantic drama. I was free and I liked it.
It was the fourth day of my vacation. I was sitting in a restaurant by the beach when I let my guard down. I was staring at the water, letting my mind drift when a voice knocked me out of my reverie.
“A Yank I’d guess.”
I turned to see a face staring curiously at me. Dark blonde hair, big butt. Curvy but not my type. I was a willowy leggy enthusiast. Still there was something childlike and charming about her. “I can’t deny it,” I answered. “I’m not good with accents. I can’t pretend I’m not American.”
“Where are you from?”
“New York.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Really. I had a friend from upstate. Do you mean the state or the city?”
“The city.”
“Oooo. Big city man.”
“You get used to it. Like anywhere else. It seems normal.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true.”
She paused. “Am I bothering you?”
I realized I was probably not being very friendly, winding down from the fires of hell as I was. “No. Sorry. I’m just sort of recovering.”
“Were you sick?”
I laughed. “No. Nothing like that. The end of the armpit of all relationships.”
“A divorce?”
“Thank God no! If it had gone that far I’d have killed myself.”
She nodded as though she knew what I was saying. “I think I’ve been there.”
I nodded back. She waited a second to see if I would show some enthusiasm. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to your winding down.”
I felt like a jerk. My staying with Selene for so long was my fault, not this woman’s. I didn’t need to be an asshole to someone who hadn’t done me any harm. “I’ve spent the last few days alone. Why don’t you have a drink? On me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. I’m here to enjoy myself. I need conversation with someone who isn’t from New York.”
“I don’t think I can keep up with a New Yorker when it comes to conversation.”
That made me laugh, harder than I thought I would; I think it startled her. “Sorry,” I said, still laughing.
“Everyone in Manhattan is so suave. You can get tired of it sometimes. Sit?”
She came over and sat across from me. “Are you hungry?”
“Actually yes. Mussels?”
“I could go for that. They’re better down here. Deeper and the flavor is less funky.”
“Funky. Real American word.”
“I guess I’m quaint here.”
“I wonder if you think we’re quaint.”
“I guess so. It’s really beautiful”.
“So what do you do?”
As I engaged in conversation I realize that I’d opened myself up to flirting. For some reason, despite Selene, this didn’t bother me; I was free and I had just met this woman.
Her name was Tessa. We had dinner that evening and she seemed fascinated by my life as a an tech writer, something that I considered to be like watching paint dry but a lot more annoying. I found her to be charming but there was something missing. That something kept eating at me while I was trying to remain enthusiastic. Perhaps it was her obvious intense interest in after knowing me for such a short time. Whatever it was, I couldn’t quite pin it down.
We walked along the beach and we talked about what we were doing vs. what we really wanted to be doing. It seemed like a preparation for a closer relationship. My antennae went up; I was interested but not enough to jump into bed with her that night; I was getting the feeling that that was her goal and it both frightened and annoyed me.
Somewhere around eleven I felt it was time to make my break. I begged off before she could even invite me to her house. I actually had developed a fever on the trip down which didn’t seem to be going away; I’m not one who travels well. I told her I needed to get some sleep. Once I left her I considered whether I wanted to start a relationship that I knew would end in a few weeks. Certainly she’d made it clear that a relationship was welcome. But who would put themselves in that kind of position?
Maybe she was just the type who liked to have fun and I was being prude. But I wanted it to be my choice, not hers.
She was not gracious but remained under control. I wondered what she expected of me, someone she had just met. I left things vague, letting her think I’d call her but not letting her think it was going to lead anywhere. While I considered another bar, I wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t find me; there were only so many bars on the island. So I ended the evening in my hotel room watching “Back to the future”.
The next day I was a spared deciding whether I should call her. Around 9:30 she called me. While I was wary, I was still attracted to her. Despite her living in an isolated community she was extraordinarily intelligent and sophisticated. I wanted to ignore her but I couldn’t quite let it go.
I met her at the same restaurant where we first met. When I got there she was drinking a margarita.
“Ah, you are brave.”
She giggled and I felt my stomach turn over. I was hooked. Damn.
I sat down. “I happen to hate tequila.”
“Well, I noticed that you were drinking gin yesterday. Gin is the devil’s drink.”
“I never looked at it that way.” Just then the waiter came up and I ordered a beefeater Gibson. Tessa smiled. “Are you going to behave?” she asked archly. It was a cheap remark, designed to excite me. To my surprise it seemed to work.
“Well I am on vacation.”
Four hours later I was at her house where she offered to make me dinner. I noticed some serious weight lifting equipment and commented on it. Her back was to me and I could see her stiffen. “Left here by a friend. He stayed her for a while. I’ve had some financial troubles and he helped me out by helping with the bills. He slept on the couch.” She never turned around.
“So he’s not here now?”
“No, that was just for a short time.”
“Why did he leave his weights?”
“Uh… he had to leave quickly. Something about his job.”
“Big guy, huh?”
She giggled again. ”Yeah. We used to call him “Gorilla”.
I nodded, taking in the couch. I doubted I could sleep there. If “Gorilla” was bigger than me, which seemed likely, he could never have fit his body on that couch, much less slept there. It began to occur to me where he most likely slept. I supposed it was none of my business.
She brought me a Martini. “The second liquor store had Beefeater. I thought you should see that we’re not unsophisticated here.”
“Thanks. I could have made do with wine.”
She shrugged. “Dinner should be ready in about half an hour.” She went into the kitchen and checked some sauce she was making. ”So that armpit of a relationship? Was she mad that you left?”
“She would have been mad if I stayed. Or if I had tuna instead of bologna. Mad is what she does best.”
“So there’s no chance that you’ll make up?”
I guffawed. “That’s like asking if there’s a chance I’ll eat glass!”
She smiled softly. “Sometimes it’s time to move on.”
“I guess so.”
“Have you ever considered just leaving New York? Going somewhere else?”
“Whoa! That’s a big question. I’ve lived there all my life.”
“Sometimes change is good.”
Throughout the rest of the evening, that little exchange stayed in my mind. What sane woman would start talking about the future with a man she’d just met? But I knew that’s what she was doing. And later on when I found some action movies I found out there was another “Gorilla”, this time named Spike. He also had stayed on the couch to help her out. I began to put it all together.
After dinner she sat on that same couch. Even in my drunken haze it seemed that she was a little too close. “I hate to ask you. But I’ve hit some hard times. Do you think you can lend me twenty pounds. I promise I’ll get it back to you before you leave.”
I debated leaving but I figured her request gave me a good reason to give up on the idea of whether we were going to sleep together, something that I could tell was going to be an issue. Once she asked me for money, I felt I was no longer obligated to consider a relationship. “Sure.” I pulled out my wallet and counted out the unfamiliar money with difficulty before I handed it to her. Then I stood up. “Well I’m still feeling crappy. So I’m going to go to the hotel. Thanks for dinner. And the Beefeater.” I smiled as though I’d just made a joke.
Her face fell. “Oh. Okay. I hope the twenty pounds didn’t put you off. I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t desperate. Things haven’t been great the last few months.”
“I understand. I’ve been there. I’m just not feeling well.”
“Well I hope I’ll see you again.”
“Let me see how I feel tomorrow. Honestly, I’m not feeling very confident about relationships right now. I just got away from the buzz saw that I was with for over a year.”
“Oh. Okay. Well thanks for the money. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Let’s see how I feel.”
“Okay.”
“Good night.”
I wondered, as I walked back to my hotel, if I she had planned for me to be the next “man on the couch”. I wanted to kick myself. I had just left New York and Selene a few days ago and here I was fending off another attack by a female. I guess I had fooled myself into thinking that Selene had made me tough but maybe she’d made me hungry for anything that made me feel like I was worthy of a decent relationship. Tessa had seen me coming and, for some reason, she thought I was stupid enough to fall for it. Maybe I was and she had just been more obvious than she thought she was.
I sat at the bar in my hotel and knocked back a few martinis, feeling like a fool. I looked at some of the women around me and wondered if I should just get it over with and sleep with someone else, washing away the stink of both Selene and Tessa. Somehow it didn’t seem like an answer.
The next day I slept late. Walking through the lobby of my hotel I saw the one person I didn’t want to see. “I just wanted to apologize for putting you off last night. I probably shouldn’t have asked you for money. I’m just desperate.”
My night’s sleep hadn’t improved my mood and my sense of failure. “I understand. The money isn’t an issue. I just got out of the worst relationship ever. I’m not ready to even think about another relationship.”
I began to walk past her but she followed me. “I don’t know what I did wrong. I didn’t ask you to get into another relationship. Maybe you have the idea that you’re such a great catch that I couldn’t help myself. I was just wanted to get to know you. Is that so horrifying?”
I wasn’t in the mood to ruin the rest of my vacation considering how much I needed it. I thought of the other “guys on the couch” and I felt sick. “No. But I told you I can’t do anything but try to get my head back together. Sorry.”
I walked farther. She walked behind me. “You’re just like the rest of them! You treat me like shit and then you leave. I hate you! I shouldn’t have given my affection to you. You don’t deserve it! I have to survive!”
I turned around. “What kind of relationship are you going to have with another human being if all you’re going to do is survive?”
She gave me a look of complete incomprehension.
“I hardly know you. Two days. That’s it. What do you think I owe you? Is this the way all your relationships go? Take two days to create what takes years to build? How could it ever work out?”
“You’re just a-“
“Find someone else for the couch. There’s always someone who’ll be willing. That’s the top of your ambition isn’t it?”
Her mouth flew open and she began crying. I walked away.
I spent the rest of the day sitting on the beach. I knew she wouldn’t be looking for me. The next day I took a taxi up the coast to a bed and breakfast I’d read about on the internet. The rest of the trip was a confrontation with myself and my sense of failure. In a way I couldn’t blame Tessa for that. It was really where I was in my head and I’d just been running away from it.
I should have expected that Tessa would not go quietly, though at the time I couldn’t have known why I’d see her again. It was only days before I found Selene with the cooler. I was making coffee when the doorbell range.
And there she was, a smirk on her face. I shook my head. “We spent two days together, barely. We had no relationship to speak of. Don’t you have better things to do with your life then waste all the money and time to come here? I suppose you think I owe you something.”
She snorted. “I’ll have you know that I am a businesswoman, here on some very important deals that I’m working on. I’m not just the little poor girl you met back home. You just found me in a bad part of my life. There’s more to me than that.”
“Yes I know. There is the couch. That was a career in itself.”
She shrugged. “It served its purpose at the time. You do what you have to do.”
“I know. To survive. How did you get up here?”
"I told your doorman I was your cousin. You may not remember how drunk you were when we were together. I know a good bit more about you than you know. He’s the suspicious type so it took me a while to convince him. We had a nice long talk and he grilled me. A lot of your neighbors got to hear some of it. Including a Mrs. Garvotti who I think must have been a government interrogator at one time. Are all Americans so curious?”
“Oh God. Mrs. Garvotti thinks she’s fighting crime and corruption in our building. You’ve gotten to see a dying breed in New York: the annoying busybody old lady. Most people in the City mind their own business.”
“Are you going to ask me in?”
“You hate me, remember? Why do you want to come into my home?”
“I figure I owe you an apology. I am here on business. And I figure I was a bitch back home. Poverty will do that to you. The couch wasn’t the only shameful thing in my existence back then. I had to do a lot of things that compromised my dignity. But I shouldn’t have blamed it all on you. Things are better now. Time to make amends.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I don’t care if you do or not. I’m offering an apology. Take it or leave it. What other reason would I come up here?”
I debated it in my mind; I didn’t trust her but I couldn’t think of a reason that told me she was lying. In the end I figured it was easier to spend a little time with her than it would be to throw her out, with all the arguing that would follow. Tessa wasn’t stable enough to take rejection with a smile.
I gestured her in. In a few minutes we were sitting on the couch making small talk and drinking some of my cheap read wine. I watched her carefully for signs that this wasn’t what she’d told me it was: a simple making of amends and not a play for more of my money and a possible relationship. I didn’t see any negative signs; she sat calmly and discussed her business venture and, without any recriminations, our ill-fated two days together.
An hour later she was up and moving to the door. “Sorry I can’t stay longer. I have to meet someone. Say hello to Mrs. Garvotti for me.”
“I will. Good luck.”
And she was gone.
How did she find you?” I asked Selene.
She wiped at some tears in her eyes. “She’d seen some old posts that included me on Facebook. So she contacted me. You’d told her about me.”
“And her appearance a few days ago? I can guess but I’d like to confirm it.”
She paused. “Proof that you spent some time alone with her. People will draw their own conclusions about what happened.”
“ As I thought. What were you hoping to accomplish? I know what you were going to do with those vials. But how would it have helped you?”
“I’ve already answered that. You hurt me. You hurt her. You deserve to lose something. Your freedom. Your money. Whatever. I figure we could ruin your life. Anything short of killing you for what you did.”
“Oh God. After two days she thought she owned me. And treated me like a bank. I don’t owe her anything. Or you.”
“I’m not going to discuss this with you. You don’t understand.”
“No I don’t understand insanity. The questions is how much you want to stop people from hearing about what you’ve done which is like something out of Frankenstein.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t want the entire world to know about this,” I shouted, pointing at the cooler, “then you’ll do what I say.”
She looked like a deer in the headlights.
A year later Tessa came to New York. When I picked her up at Kennedy Airport; she had a shit eating grin on her face. She carried a baby in her lap. I smiled at the sight of him. I’ve always loved babies.
“You didn’t think this would happen, did you?”
I kept my face blank. “Of course not.”
“I’ve always wanted to live in New York.” She stared at me, waiting for a reaction.
“I can say with confidence that it doesn’t live up to its hype.”
“Sour grapes.”
I dared a smile. I didn’t want to give it away.
“You could have worked with me,” she taunted.
“Worked. Are all your relationships work? An arrangement? Do you think something like that is going to last?”
“You’re too romantic. You believe in love.”
“It hasn’t always seemed possible but I remain hopeful.”
“You’re a fool.”
“And I think that your life is over. Has been over.”
“We’ll see. We have a meeting with a DNA expert.”
“Whatever he says doesn’t change anything I’ve said.”
The baby, who I’d come to know was named Terrance, made a typical baby noise. “Terrance knows what is true, don’t you, sugar?”
“He’s cute. Do you love him?”
Her face darkened. “Of course I do.”
“Excuse me, but I don’t see love as being part of your scheme. If you loved him you’d want to keep him for yourself. You wouldn’t need me.”
“You’re part of this whether you want to be or not.”
“True love.”
She stared at me, clearly wondering why I was being so contentious. From her point of view I should have been kissing her ass, hoping for the best outcome.
We remained quiet until we arrived at the DNA lab on the Upper East Side. Terrance began to coo as she lifted him out of the car. “It will all be fine in a few minutes, Terry,” Tessa told the baby.
“No doubt,” I said.
Paulson genetic testing was on the eighty-ninth floor. We met the receptionist who offered us bottled water. Naïf paintings festooned the wall. The carpet was deep pile in an off green shade. I could tell Tessa smelled money, something that satisfied some need she had for importance; she smiled. We were ushered into a small room with an oval shaped table. Within a few minutes a middle aged man joined us. The receptionist ran in. “Madame. Do you breast feed or would you like formula?”
Tessa laughed. “He’s been fed recently. Thank you.”
“Certainly Madame.”
Our doctor sat across from us. “I’m Dr. Boolchand. And this must be Terrance.”
“Yes,” Tessa confirmed, smiling broadly. As though she was confirming that she had a hole card. Not like a mother.
“Well I’ll get right to it. I’ve reviewed the results of our tests. We do double testing to be sure. All part of the service.”
I nodded. “We would expect nothing less.”
Tessa gave me look; I was being far too cooperative.
“Here are the results. Mr. Garth,” he said to me. “Ms. Feld,” he said to Tessa. “The chances that Terrance is the son of Mr. Garth is one in five billion. In layman’s terms it is impossible that Mr. Garth is Terrance’s father.”
Tessa’s eyes bulged. Her head shook convulsively for several seconds. “What?” she gasped.
“Well I always have to explain that this is an issue of probabilities. Meaning that while It’s possible that Mr. Garth is Terrance’s father, it is so unlikely as to be impossible.”
Tessa’s face turned red. She tightened her grasp on the baby as though it might help her cause. “That’s not possible.”
Boolchand smiled. “Possible but unlikely.”
“No. It’s bloody impossible.”
“I’ve had this discussion before, too many times. I’m not happy to bring bad news. But the reality is that it is very unlikely that Terrance is Mr. Garth’s son.”
“No. It is impossible that he is not his father.”
“We can run these tests again. But I think the results will be the same.
“This is some kind of trick.” She turned to me. “How much did you pay them to do this?”
I laughed. Dr. Boolchand shook his head. “I’m sorry Ms. Feld. You can go to another lab but you’ll find the same thing. We are bonded and our reputation is excellent. I can give you references if you like.”
“I can’t believe this!”
I remained silent; I was enjoying this. “Fuck you,” Tessa hissed. She stood up and left. I smiled at Boolchand who seemed disgusted. “Thank you for your time,” I told him.
I followed Tessa to the elevator. “This isn’t going to stand!” she shouted.
“There isn’t much you can do.”
“There’s a lot I can bloody do!”
“I’d suggest lowering you voice. This is New York. People call the police.”
“I don’t care! I’ll sue you! You’ll wish you never met me.”
“Sue me for what?”
“Money. I’ll get as much as I can.”
“Since Terrance isn’t my child I think I’d call that extortion. Or attempted extortion. But remember something. You are not a citizen here. You can’t stay here more than a few months and I’m not jumping up to help you. You’re on your own.”
“I’m going to figure out how you did this.”
“And do what?”
The elevator opened its doors and we stepped in. “I’m going to get money from you.”
I shook my head as we began to descend. “Extortion. And you have no basis for a suit.”
Her face hardened and she said nothing. We finished our ride down in silence. We walked out into the lobby. She whirled on me. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”
“Extortion. Threats of violence. You’re racking up a lot of possible charges for an alien. You’ll be deported in a few days if you go on like this.”
“Do you think I can just go back home and live happily ever after? I have no money except what you’ve given me so far.”
“You could get a job but I doubt you’d keep it. Wait! Stop talking. There’s a diner down the block. Let’s go there. I can help you. But you have to stop being…you.”
“What?”
“Just come with me.”
She stared at the floor for a few seconds. “Whatever you say.”
We walked to the diner, taking a booth near the front door. Terrance gurgled. “He is cute. He would have been cuter if he’d been mine. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”
The waitress came; I ordered a bowl of clam chowder and an English muffin. Tessa seemed confused by the enormous menu. Finally she ordered a cheeseburger and fries.
She wouldn’t meet my eyes so I forged ahead. “Terrance’s father is a good man. You have an opportunity here to get what you want.”
“What is that? Why do you think you know what I want?”
“Twenty pounds in the Falklands. Extortion here. It’s obvious. You’d use your own child as a tool to get money. You brought him all the way here just to get money.”
She looked away. “Whatever you say.”
“You have two choices. I can manage to get you deported and you’ll go back to the Falklands. Knowing you, things won’t be good for you then. So I’m giving you a choice. You take one hundred and fifty thousand U.S. dollars, sign away your rights to Terrance and leave the country. Or you leave with Terrance and we don’t hear from you again. The money would set you up for life if you’re careful.”
“If I’m such an awful mother why would you let me leave with him?”
“I’m betting on what I know about you.”
She smiled. “Maybe I’ll just leave just to rub your nose in it.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Can I ask who the father is?”
“A friend of mine. He…helped me a while back. He’s very generous. And he’s my friend. He’s had trouble adopting a child. You’ve solved his problem.”
“Is his wife unable to give birth?”
“In a manner of speaking. He’s gay.”
“What?”
“Terrance couldn’t have a better father.”
“What did he do that has stopped him from adopting.”
“Just like anyone else. Red tape. Lack of available babies.”
“So my child won’t have a mother.”
It was my turn to smile. “Nothing new there.”
She showed her teeth like a feral dog. It seemed appropriate.
Selene moved to California after Tessa went back home alone. There was always the chance that someone would find out what she’d done and how crazy she was. She was nothing if not full of pride. And there were the occasional threats I made of prosecuting her. I couldn’t tell for certain that there were any charges I could level against her but I made a point of trotting out the possibility over and over. I had become the resentful one and I was able to outdo her.
I remained celibate for two years. I had thought it would be difficult but in the end not testing fate seemed a lot better than simply finding a mate and satisfying my baser urges. In the end it really wasn’t that bad. Calm is good.