left her ruined and undesirable.
When Robin found her, truly ugly and deserted by
him
, she would tell her how Wright had died. Her mother would cry out in grief and lay apologies like roses at Robin’s feet, too late, too late. Then joy would overtake her at rediscovering her lost child and she would open her arms. Robin would go into them, but only to exact her revenge. Then all of Miriam’s money, and the horrified screams of her servants, couldn’t save her.
The pot was finally starting to take. Robin felt good now, easy. Her thoughts became random and before long she allowed herself to dissolve into sleep. What! She jerked awake and sat up, confused. She was in a dim room, lighted briefly by passing cars. It was a motel room, somewhere in Pennsylvania. Linda was in the bathroom doing something in absolute silence, and Robin’s father was dead.
She lay down again and under the covers her hands came together between her thighs in irreverent prayer.She clenched her teeth until they ground against each other, forbidding the escape of careless speech, and then she gave herself up again to sleep.
There were two glasses on the shelf above the sink. Linda took the one still wrapped in a bag marked
Sanitized For Your Protection
, unwrapped it, and urinated into it. The diagrammed instructions were unfolded and propped against the faucet. After she glanced at them once more, she took an eyedropper from the kit and put just three drops of urine into the provided test tube. Soon this magical fluid from her own body would reveal its mystery.
She removed a plastic vial from the kit and added its contents to the test tube and then shook it. There was a little stand in the box and she placed it on the edge of the sink and balanced the test tube in it. A mad scientist in the bathroom laboratory of a third-rate motel.
Linda stared as the frothy liquid settled and grew still. If a dark ring formed near the bottom in two hours, the test was positive and she was pregnant. If nothing happened, she was not. It was nine o’clock. At eleven, the results would be in. Watched pots. She couldn’t simply sit in that claustrophobic space and wait. Linda wished she had someone there to share the time and suspense with. She thought of Iola back in Bayonne shaking her hips right now to amplified music.
After Wright died, Iola visited Linda and said that they
all
die, one way or another. Every relationship she’d ever had ended in pain. Now her body was beginning to retreat from men, a little at a time. She didn’t regret the loss of muscle tone, the sagging. Soon she’d retire from the arena completely, with a vibrator and somemood-inducing music. “That sounds so lonely,” Linda had said. “Yeah, I suppose,” Iola agreed. “But at least you don’t have to worry about getting involved.” She would probably have something cheering to say now, too, something to make Linda smile and relieve her of this feeling of isolation.
Yet it wasn’t Iola Linda wanted. It was her own mother, with a wanting so strong it surprised her. In that common error of childhood, Linda used to think her mother delivered babies in her nurse’s satchel. What else could make her departures so urgent? A family was always waiting eagerly for its new child. Once Linda held on to her at the door, suspending her weight from the starched skirt. “I wish you didn’t have to go!” she cried. Her mother pried open the clinging hands, first one and then the other. “If wishes were horses,” she said sadly, which confused and distracted Linda long enough for her mother to make her getaway at a steady trot, the newest baby wailing in the satchel.
Even after Linda understood her mother’s real function in those other households, there was a stubborn authority about her connection with human reproduction that stayed. Her mother used to say that she could look into a woman’s eyes and tell immediately if she was pregnant and, if the pregnancy was advanced enough,
When Robin found her, truly ugly and deserted by
him
, she would tell her how Wright had died. Her mother would cry out in grief and lay apologies like roses at Robin’s feet, too late, too late. Then joy would overtake her at rediscovering her lost child and she would open her arms. Robin would go into them, but only to exact her revenge. Then all of Miriam’s money, and the horrified screams of her servants, couldn’t save her.
The pot was finally starting to take. Robin felt good now, easy. Her thoughts became random and before long she allowed herself to dissolve into sleep. What! She jerked awake and sat up, confused. She was in a dim room, lighted briefly by passing cars. It was a motel room, somewhere in Pennsylvania. Linda was in the bathroom doing something in absolute silence, and Robin’s father was dead.
She lay down again and under the covers her hands came together between her thighs in irreverent prayer.She clenched her teeth until they ground against each other, forbidding the escape of careless speech, and then she gave herself up again to sleep.
There were two glasses on the shelf above the sink. Linda took the one still wrapped in a bag marked
Sanitized For Your Protection
, unwrapped it, and urinated into it. The diagrammed instructions were unfolded and propped against the faucet. After she glanced at them once more, she took an eyedropper from the kit and put just three drops of urine into the provided test tube. Soon this magical fluid from her own body would reveal its mystery.
She removed a plastic vial from the kit and added its contents to the test tube and then shook it. There was a little stand in the box and she placed it on the edge of the sink and balanced the test tube in it. A mad scientist in the bathroom laboratory of a third-rate motel.
Linda stared as the frothy liquid settled and grew still. If a dark ring formed near the bottom in two hours, the test was positive and she was pregnant. If nothing happened, she was not. It was nine o’clock. At eleven, the results would be in. Watched pots. She couldn’t simply sit in that claustrophobic space and wait. Linda wished she had someone there to share the time and suspense with. She thought of Iola back in Bayonne shaking her hips right now to amplified music.
After Wright died, Iola visited Linda and said that they
all
die, one way or another. Every relationship she’d ever had ended in pain. Now her body was beginning to retreat from men, a little at a time. She didn’t regret the loss of muscle tone, the sagging. Soon she’d retire from the arena completely, with a vibrator and somemood-inducing music. “That sounds so lonely,” Linda had said. “Yeah, I suppose,” Iola agreed. “But at least you don’t have to worry about getting involved.” She would probably have something cheering to say now, too, something to make Linda smile and relieve her of this feeling of isolation.
Yet it wasn’t Iola Linda wanted. It was her own mother, with a wanting so strong it surprised her. In that common error of childhood, Linda used to think her mother delivered babies in her nurse’s satchel. What else could make her departures so urgent? A family was always waiting eagerly for its new child. Once Linda held on to her at the door, suspending her weight from the starched skirt. “I wish you didn’t have to go!” she cried. Her mother pried open the clinging hands, first one and then the other. “If wishes were horses,” she said sadly, which confused and distracted Linda long enough for her mother to make her getaway at a steady trot, the newest baby wailing in the satchel.
Even after Linda understood her mother’s real function in those other households, there was a stubborn authority about her connection with human reproduction that stayed. Her mother used to say that she could look into a woman’s eyes and tell immediately if she was pregnant and, if the pregnancy was advanced enough,
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