Scattered Page 3

  “Lower your voice girl or Bob will come back to see what all the shouting’s about and to be honest I’d sooner shoot you than him. He’s better company than most people,” Dan said.

  I turned to face him, our kind-of rescuer, at a loss for words. Did I say thanks for saving us, or thanks for not shooting us, or was I supposed to be mad that he preferred a bear over people? Dan stared at me as he chewed on the stubby cigar clamped between yellowed teeth. His salt and pepper hair was military short and yet still managed to be messy and his army fatigues were rumpled and stained. I didn’t know what to make of him. Was it an act, or were the other locals right and he was off his rocker?

  Sebastian took the lead, exaggerating his limp and rubbing at his shin before holding his hand out to the gruff older man. “Thanks Dan, much appreciate the intervention with your friend. We were on our way to your place. You put an ad on the mailbox that you had some old gardening stuff you want to get rid of? I spoke with you this morning about coming by?”

  Dan stared at Sebastian for so long I started to get nervous. The man after all had a reputation for eating Crazy Flakes for breakfast and he was packing a large gun. Not really a good combination. I cleared my throat.

  “Things like old pots, and maybe even some veggie starts,” I said, wanting to break the awkward silence.

  Dan took a drag on his cigar and blew out a string of smoke. “Yup, come on then.” He turned his back to us, put his gun over his shoulder and led us down the yellow and green tunnel.

  We followed, Sebastian taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed to me.

  I smiled and squeezed his hand, mouthing back, “Okay. But I’m still calling your Gran.” Sebastian winced again and I nodded. There was always a consequence for being dumb, even if it was just having your Gran rip a strip off you.

  As the adrenaline stopped its headlong rush through my body, I became acutely aware of my bare legs and arms—all the parts I’d shoved up against the broom. By the time we reached Dan’s, a fortress of a home that looked as if it had once been an army barrack, every visible inch of me was covered in hives. I stared around me, absently scratching at my arms. Dan’s yard wasn’t fenced, but it didn’t really need to be, not with the way his house was built. What looked like steel plate covered the doors. All the windows had rebar grills over them and the exterior of the house seemed to be made of a cement brick mixture. I ran my fingers over the rough texture, my curiosity for a moment overwhelming my itching.

  “Make this quick, Bastian. I’m blowing up like a puffer fish,” I whispered to him as I deposited myself on the only chair in the yard. Dan brought me a prickly cactus looking plant and stuck it on the ground beside me.

  “Aloe Vera. It’ll help with the sting till you get home,” he said as he broke off a thick green stem and handed the goopy end to me.

  Surprised at his kindness, my opinion of him shifting again, I broke off a second piece of the plant and rubbed it onto the worst patch of hives with a sigh. It was cool and soothing. I was going to have to get me an Aloe Vera plant.

  It was nice in the shade; this corner of Dan’s garden was already up, the bright green shoots sticking through the ground. I didn’t recognize any of them. I was still pretty new to the whole concept of gardening. I could see what I thought were peas climbing a section of netting, large rubber tires housing a creeping plant of some sort, and several raised beds with strawberries in them. Those at least I could pick out easily. It was very strange to see such a mixture of old-school gardening life next to the military feel of his home.

  Next to the house a battered old radio played while Sebastian talked planting, tools, and seeds with the old nutter.

  After a few minutes, Dan walked to the radio and turned it up just as a female announcer came on, her voice breathy and completely unsuited to radio.

  “Bet she got the job by doing a few jobs of her own, eh?” Dan gave me a lecherous wink and walked back over to where Sebastian was digging through an old pile of pots.

  I grimaced and shook my head. That was an awful thought, no matter that it was probably true. I reached down to rub at a particularly large hive with the Aloe Vera on the back of my calf, when what the announcer was saying sunk in.

  “This is a miracle drug boys and girls. Not only can you eat whatever you want and not gain weight, but it does all sorts of great things, but I can’t remember all of them. You can’t buy it over the counter . . .”

  I got up and moved my chair closer to the radio and a second, male, announcer came on, his voice highly animated and almost as feminine as the woman’s.

  “So Phillipa, you’re telling me there’s no downside, no side effects to this—what was the drug called again?” he said.

  Phillipa’s irritating voice came back on. “They’re calling it Nevermore, as in, never more gain weight, never more get sick, or disgustingly fat, never more get cellulite, or any sort of weight gain.” She giggled and the high pitch and redundancy of what she was saying made me shiver. It was a wonder the speakers didn’t blow. She took a breath and continued, “It’s amazing, one shot is all it takes, and yes, it is expensive, but that’s it. One shot and you’re good for life. I’ve lost ten pounds and I’ve been eating burgers, cake, and totally noshing on chocolate.” The male announcer came back on.

  “Reportedly this Nevermore truly is a miracle drug as it also prevents Parkinson’s disease, works in tandem with heart medications to stop arrhythmias, and has a host of other beneficial side effects. One that will be of interest to many is that helps tremendously with fertility, more so than any of the current fertility drugs, with less side effects. As it’s derived from an all-natural source, the body can . . .”

  I turned the radio back down and looked over to Sebastian, still deep in conversation with Dan who was nodding and even giving the occasional smile. Sebastian was not only tall, but a little on the large side. Okay, a little more than a little on the large side. Not that I had anything to preen about, I easily had an extra twenty-five pounds on my 5’5 frame. Maybe even thirty, but it was still less than I’d been carrying a year ago when we decided to start our family. That was when we began to realize there was a problem, and that we might not be able to have a baby. I lost weight, ate healthy, took my vitamins, but getting pregnant was nearly impossible and the one time I did, I miscarried.

  Scratching at my collarbone I had a sudden urge to get moving. Not only did I need to get a second dose of Benadryl and a shower to wash the broom pollen off, I had to get on the phone to the doctor. What if this Nevermore drug was what the radio said it was? It seemed almost too good to be true: fertility and weight loss, all rolled into a single shot. My heart started to thrum with excitement. This was what we’d been waiting for. I could hardly wait to tell Sebastian what I’d heard; I could hardly wait to finally be a mother.

  2

  As soon as we got home I ran upstairs to shower, hoping to diffuse the pollen on my skin. We’d bought a rambling two-story farmhouse on three acres that was at least a hundred years old that I was completely in love with, along with all the history it represented. It was heated with a woodstove and even had an old wood-burning cooking stove that was now on the back porch having made room for my new convection oven. The old woman who owned the farmhouse had been on the property her whole life, ninety-eight years, and had not only been raised in the house, but had raised her own children in the house. I’d hoped to raise my own children here.

  My hands slowed in the soapy water as my thoughts wound back to the hospital, the nurses and the doctor telling me that I had miscarried. At five weeks, still in my first trimester and within the real danger zone, I’d woken up in the middle of the night to cramping and blood on the sheets. Since then I’d not gone back to my job as a real estate agent, taking a leave of absence to deal with the grief and to give my body time to heal.

  Sebastian worked from home as a web designer, something I was intensely grateful for as he was able to help me out of
the depression I’d fallen into after the miscarriage, not to mention pay the bills that never stopped coming in.

  The bathroom door clicked and I poked my head outside the curtain. “Hand me the new shampoo.”

  Sebastian held it just out of reach before finally letting me take it, a grin spreading across his face, his gorgeous dimples framing his mouth.

  I ducked back in and lathered up, smiling to myself. He might be a little chubby, but my man was good looking and that smile, even now it made me weak in the knees.

  “It’s probably a hoax, you know that don’t you, babe?” Sebastian’s voice was muffled as I stuck my head back under the running water, the cool shower sluicing off the last of the pollen. It didn’t, however, make the hives go away. I was covered in them from head to toe, the bumps starting to develop even where the plant didn’t touch me, its infection of my skin spreading like some horrid disease.

  “You don’t know that and neither do I,” I said, soaping my body up. “You aren’t a doctor last time I checked.”

  “These sorts of things come and go. It’s either a hoax or it will turn out to have some horrible side effect. Like, your boobs will shrivel up leaving me nothing to play with, and then I would die.”

  I laughed, turned the water off and reached for a towel. The shower curtain slid open and Sebastian lifted an eyebrow at me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his clothes having mysteriously disappeared. His eyes roved over my naked and still-wet body. Heat curled in my stomach, still now after four years of marriage he could set my skin on fire and my heart racing with a simple look.

  “The towel, please.” I held out my hand, trying to look uninterested. He shook his head and stepped into the tub, his bare toes touching the tips of mine. Without a word he started to dry me off, starting with my hair and working his way slowly down my body, his hands massaging as he dried.

  I bit back a groan, the moisture from my skin disappearing, the heat intensifying. I closed my eyes and let the sensations wash through me, the scratching of the itch from the hives almost heavenly as he scrubbed the towel over them.

  “Stop,” I whispered, not really meaning it. Sebastian chuckled and I peeked out from under my eyelashes. With a single, swift movement he scooped me into his arms and took me to the bedroom and our very small bed.

  With more gentleness than one would think from a man his size, he laid me on the bed and pressed his body into mine, our hearts beating in time with one another.

  “I love you Sebastian,” I whispered as he slid into me, completing me, making us one.

  “I love you too my bumpy, hive-ridden woman,” he whispered into my ear. I slapped him half-heartedly on the shoulder, and the sweet love making quickly turned into a laughing romp that ended as it often did: in each other’s arms, tears prickling at the back of my eyes as my emotions filled me up and spilled over in physical release.

  “You okay, Mara?”

  “Yes,” I said curling deeper into his arms, trying to think of something smart to say and coming up empty handed so I settled for the truth. “Sometimes I just love you so much it makes me cry.”

  “Hmm. I am quite the hunk. Really, you are very lucky to have snagged me. I was planning on playing the field till I was at least sixty before you came along.” He spread his big hands over his chest and leaned back against the headboard, a self-satisfied smile across his face. I smiled up at him, laughed, and shook my head. The size of his ego never ceased to amaze me.

  Sobering, I sat up, pulling the sheet around me. “I’m going to ask the doctor about that Nevermore shot. I think it’s what we’ve been waiting for. I mean, we could be fit, trim, and then have a baby too. It would be amazing.” I stared at him, willing him to catch my excitement.

  It didn’t work. Sebastian frowned, and then shrugged his big shoulders. “I still think it’s some sort of hoax, but you go ask him. See what he has to say, but don’t get your hopes up.”

  I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled into his arms. I could be excited enough for the both of us; in fact, I already was. My eye lids began to droop as the second dose of antihistamines kicked in. I let them close completely, my heart light with the hopes and dreams of a family, already forgetting Sebastian’s warning.

  3

  The doctor’s office was full. And I don’t mean all the seats were taken, I mean there wasn’t even standing room.

  I ended up halfway down the hall leaning against the cream-coloured wall next to one of the office doors.

  “Excuse me, are you Mara Wilson?” a voice behind me asked.

  I turned to face a woman who looked vaguely familiar. She was in her late thirties with beautiful blond hair and eyes the colour of the Caribbean ocean. I cocked my head to one side. “Yes, I’m Mara, have we met?”

  The woman laughed and patted me on the arm. “Only briefly. I’m Shelly Gartlet, I live on the road above you, and we met at the mailbox when you first moved here.”

  I smiled and nodded. “That’s right. I remember now.” Really, how could I forget? The woman had grabbed me in a welcoming hug, spilling all the neighbourhood gossip in less than five minutes, and in a single breath. I’d made a mental note never to confide in her. “Are you here for the Nevermore shot?”

  Shelly smiled. “Yes and no. My husband, George, and I got the shot last week, but Jessica here,” she half tugged a younger looking clone forward, “wasn’t able to get the shot, she was sick with that flu that’s been going around.”

  I put my hand out. She was a very pretty young girl, with the same long blond hair as her mom and the same stunning eyes. She looked to be about sixteen years old, but could have been younger; it was so hard to tell now days. No doubt the boys went crazy for her at school. “Nice to meet you Jessica.” She gripped my hand lightly, ducking her head.

  Shelly patted her on the arm and gave me a wink. “Jessica weren’t you telling me about Mara’s husband, and about how good looking he is?”

  Jessica flushed from her chin to the roots of her hair, her eyes widening as our gazes connected.

  “I didn’t mean . . . it’s not like . . . mom, how could you say that?” she finally spit out.

  I laughed, warmed by the thought, knowing that my husband was an attractive man, so much so that even teenagers had crushes on him, despite the extra weight he carried. Tall dark and handsome with confidence and a wicked sense of humour, he’d had women swooning over him in every age bracket. “It’s okay Jessica, I’m sure Sebastian would love to know that he had an admirer.”

  “Please don’t tell him,” she whispered. We were interrupted by a woman who pushed her way in to our conversation.

  “You here for that miracle drug?”

  She was a chubby woman in her mid forties standing behind me. A quick glance and from my experience and time in Weight Watchers, I knew she had to be at least eighty pounds overweight.

  “Yes. You too?” I asked.

  “Hell no. I’m perfect just the way I am.” Hands on her hips, her purple and red muumuu fluttering around her thick ankles as she glared at me, daring me to call her out. I smiled and bit my tongue. She continued her rant, “And all you yahoos coming in for some quick-fix are going to get what’s coming to you. There’s no such thing; it’s ridiculous to think one shot can do all that. Fertility, heart stuff, making bones stronger—foolishness that you’ve all bought into.”

  Shelly and Jessica backed away from the woman and I gave them a smile as I too gave the riled-up woman some room.

  “Come over for coffee,” I said over the muumuu woman’s head, “and we can get to know each other. Anytime, I would love some company.” Shelly and Jessica smiled and they gave me identical thumbs up. This was one of the nice things about where we lived. Yes, we were in the country, but there were still neighbours close enough if you needed some sugar or a helping hand, or maybe just a cup of coffee with the local gals. I smiled to myself. I loved it here; the island was everything I’d hoped for.

  “Mara Wilson?”
The desk nurse called me and I followed her directions into the doctor’s room, happy to get away from the woman on her tirade. I glanced back and she hadn’t paused for a second, now laying into a pudgy teenager on the other side of the hall. The doctor’s room was close enough that I could still hear her with the door not completely closed, her voice rising with intensity.

  “Exercise and diet. Kids when I was young were outside playing and working. None of this TV and computer crap.” There was a pause and I imagined a nurse speaking to her. “No, I will not lower my voice; I think you all have lost your minds. This is some government conspiracy to plug you all full of tracking devices and drugs so they can better control us.”

  I shook my head, why couldn’t she just let us be? It was obvious she was delusional, she could use the shot and lose a few pounds, and she’d probably live longer. There was a large thump that rattled the wall and made me jump. Then came a god-awful screech that sounded like a parrot being strangled, followed by a dull cheer from the crowd. “You can’t kick me out!” the woman screamed, “I have an appointment!”

  Ejection from a doctor’s office, that had to be a first. I laughed at the absurdity of her claims. Health Canada and the FDA wouldn’t allow a drug to be given to the masses if it hadn’t been tested. They knew it was safe and there was no way it could get to the public unless it was good to go.

  “Hello, Mara.” Dr. Cooper stepped into the office, his grey hair and stooped shoulders making me wonder how much longer I would be able to go to him.

  “Hi, Dr. Cooper.” I smiled, unable to suppress my emotions. This was it; this was the moment I’d been waiting for.

  “I suppose you’re here for the Nevermore shot?” he asked, his face a mask of concentration.

  I smiled wider, my excitement spilling over into my words. “Yup. It’s perfect! I can lose the last of the weight that you said I should to be at an optimum size for getting pregnant, and the shot will make me more fertile, right? That’s what I heard on the radio and when I looked it up on the internet it confirmed that. And then maybe Sebastian should get it too? Because you weren’t sure if the fertility issues were with him or me, we could both take it and then we’d be sure to get pregnant, right? Sorry about the pun—I’m so happy; I can’t believe this is finally going to happen. I’m going to be able to have a baby.”