Finding Home (9 page)

“You’re incredible.” Nick shook his head and
grinned at me, his eyes so blue they seemed to reflect the sky.
Skyflakes, I thought, his eyes are like glittery skyflakes. How
romantic.

Romantic? Absurd was more like it. But, hey.
The whole situation was unbelievable.

I felt detached from Nick’s discussion of the
legal aspects, almost as if he were talking about someone else. All
that mattered was that the whole thing felt right. And it did. So
right I was tempted to suggest we just leave the doctor out of it
altogether. I knew for a fact that Nick and I could manage just
fine on our own. But I left it at wishful thinking.

“Okay,” Nick said, “if you’re ready to go
ahead without further discussion, just sign on the dotted line,
ma’am.” He handed me the papers, two copies of everything, placed
his pen in my hand and gestured at the stick-on notes with red
arrows and the words:
sign here
. “Actually,” he said, “just
read it over while I go get Phoebe to witness your signature.”

I couldn’t be bothered to plow through the
dense legal terminology of the contract. Just looking at it made my
brain feel fuzzy And it didn’t make sense to start being suspicious
of Nick now. I checked only that the amount of money due me was
correct.

Phoebe stood and watched me sign, then
disappeared without a word. “Why don’t I call Dr. MacLaren,” Kiera
said, “and see if we can go down to his office right now.”

Nick slid each copy of the contract into an
official looking envelope. “I still think we should go back to the
Clarington Clinic.” His voice sounded like this was something
they’d argued about. “I know MacLaren is Phoebe’s son and all, but
he’s a small-town doctor. And he always seems so casual. Does he
really know what he’s doing?”

“Nick,” Kiera said. “Sometimes you are such a
snob. Of course he does.”

“I just want to be sure it works, that’s
all,” Nick said. “I mean, I’m going to entrust my sperm to this
guy. How do you think that feels?” He glared at her, then said to
me, “What do you think, Luce? You okay with MacLaren?”

“Well, I’ve never met him,” I said. “But if
he’s good enough for Kiera, why go to Toronto? Why waste the
time?”

“Okay, okay.” Nick raised his hands in
surrender. “I lose.”

He drove us down to Airdrie Bay in silence. I
would have thought he’d be excited, now that all the decisions had
been made. But really, what more was there for any of us to say?
And why make small talk on the way to doing something so
profound.

Dr. MacLaren’s office was in the front rooms
of the house where he and Phoebe lived. It was on the same street
as The Silver Needle, but farther from the main part of town.
Because it was Sunday, there was no one around.

The office was closed and the doctor himself
came to let us in. “Kiera,” he said, “good to see you.” A tall,
husky man, his longish hair curled around his ears and temples, and
something in his gentle manner reminded me of Jay. He shook my hand
like an old friend, and I felt at ease with him right away.

Nick stood back. He didn’t speak and he
didn’t shake hands. I figured he was probably feeling weird about
what was going to happen. After all, he would have to produce sperm
on demand. And I wondered if the idea of artificial insemination
was a problem for his male ego.

Kiera and I chatted briefly with the doctor
about the weather. Then he showed Nick into one examining room and
me into another. “Come with me, Kiera,” I said. “That’s okay, isn’t
it, Dr. MacLaren?”

“Sure,” he said. “It’s not usual, but then,
nothing about this is usual.” He gave me a gown to put on and left
us.

“Are you nervous?” Kiera asked, as I changed
and climbed up onto the table. Dr. MacLaren had oven mitts on the
stirrups, so my bare feet didn’t have to touch cold steel.

“No,” I said. “Do you think Nick is?” We both
burst out laughing then. I’m sure we had the same undignified image
of what he was doing. “Maybe you should go help him, or
something?”

“Oh, I think he’ll manage,” Kiera said, as
the doctor knocked and came back in.

He’d slipped a white lab coat over his baggy
cords and fisherman sweater, which made me suddenly aware this was
for real. “Now,” he said, “I’ll take your medical history, then
I’ll do a physical.”

When he came to the question about previous
pregnancies, I had to tell him. I knew he’d find out anyway when he
examined me. “Yes, “ I said, “I was pregnant once, years ago, but I
didn’t keep it.” I hated to remember what had happened, and had
mostly succeeded in blocking the whole thing from my mind.

He nodded. “So,” he said, “we know you can
get pregnant.”

“That’s good,” Kiera said. “I mean, that’s
why we’re doing this, because I can’t.”

After the physical, Dr. MacLaren said, “Let
me explain what’s going to happen.” He sat on a stool at the end of
the table, between my legs. “We’re going to try the simplest form
of AI, just using a syringe. There are more elaborate methods,
involving catheters and so on, but let’s hope this works and that
won’t be necessary.”

“Okay,” I said. “Simple is good.”

“I’ll go and see if Nick’s ready,” he said,
standing up with a twirl of the stool. “Back in a minute.”

Kiera and I looked at each other when he’d
left the room and giggled again. Really, this was most bizarre. But
she wanted a baby, and I wanted cash.

And then it was happening.

Dr. MacLaren brought in a container, which I
assumed held Nick’s sperm. From that he filled a syringe. But for
all I knew he could have been about to inject me with egg whites. I
wonder now how I could have been so casual about such a momentous
event. But perhaps my sense of everything being surreal was what
made it possible to go ahead at all.

He inserted the speculum and then the
syringe. The procedure was quick – neither thrilling nor
particularly horrid. “Not much different from a Pap smear,” I said
to Kiera afterwards as I lay for the required forty-five minutes
with my feet still in the stirrups.

“Yes it was.” Her eyes were full of tears.
“Maybe not physically, but psychologically. You’re very brave.”

“Don’t be silly. We don’t even know if it’ll
take.”

“But you’ve been pregnant before,” she said,
smoothing the sheet over my legs with a perfectly manicured finger,
“so at least it’s possible.”

She waited, but I didn’t take her hint. That
part of my life was not open for discussion. Finally she said in a
trembling voice, “Anyway, thank you so much, Lucienne, for doing
this.”

“No problem,” I said. And I meant it. At the
time I really believed in what we were doing. I thought everything
was fine.

Nick drove us back to Malagash in silence
again. But later, as he was leaving for the airport, we talked.
Kiera was helping Phoebe in the kitchen and I’d come down to the
front hall to say goodbye to him. As I watched him lace up his high
black boots he asked, “So how was it?”

“Nothing to it.” I handed him his sleek
leather jacket, which was all silver zippers and snaps. “Great
gear,” I said.

He grinned with pride. “The best,” he said.
Then he frowned. “I don’t like that guy.” He bent to gather up his
gloves and helmet. “I hate the thought of him touching you.”

“What?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard him
right.

He straightened and faced me. “He didn’t hurt
you or anything?”

“Excuse me?” I started to laugh, as Kiera and
I had in the doctor’s office.

Nick looked like I’d kicked him in the balls.
“It’s not funny,” he said.

“Yes it is. The whole procedure’s hilarious,
if you think about it.”

“Oh, forget it.” He pulled on his helmet and
left.

* * *

After that, with Nick gone back to Toronto, I
spent several days steeped in the bright clear Nova Scotia autumn,
just waiting. A home pregnancy test came out positive, but Angus
MacLaren insisted we wait a few weeks to celebrate, because of the
chance of miscarriage.

What did we do to pass the time? Kiera and I
avoided each other. We smiled and made small talk at meals, polite
but reserved. Most days, while Kiera and Phoebe worked on their
quilt, I spent hours in the library. There was a whole shelf of
books on pregnancy and childbirth, which I guessed Kiera must have
bought, back when she still had hope. I poured over these, hungry
for details.

Then I’d go for a run into Airdrie Bay or on
the trails Nick had mentioned up the hill behind the house.
Afterwards I’d sit by the cove on the north side of the point,
sifting the silvery sand through my fingers. I could watch the
water there for hours, lulled by the waves, daydreaming about
Auberge Ciel and how I’d turn it into a camp.

One day I called the Rivards and asked them
to get other help for the hunting season I wasn’t letting them down
– there were lots of people around Pointe-Poisson who’d be glad of
the work. I told them I definitely wanted to buy the lodge, but
needed some time to get my finances in order. We agreed on a price.
They said they’d take back the mortgage. I gave them my phone
number and address at Malagash, in case the Wembles needed to find
me.

During those days I thought less and less
often of Jay, which pleased me. But when Odette told me how many
times he’d called, I suddenly missed him terribly, and begged her
not to give him my number. I didn’t want to risk having him call me
and open everything up again. I knew I would always love him, but
life goes on. And I was going with it.

I wasn’t surprised when I missed my next
period. I’d never had any doubt I’d get pregnant immediately. Kiera
though, who had immersed herself in her quilting while waiting, was
wild with excitement, becoming so animated I could hardly believe
it. She danced around the house, laughing and singing like a
hyperactive kid.

She was eager to get Dr. MacLaren to confirm
the good news right away, but he still insisted we wait some more.
Finally, in mid-October, on the Friday of Canadian Thanksgiving
weekend, he examined me.

Kiera asked me to drive to his office, making
weak excuses for Phoebe, who wouldn’t have anything to do with our
mission. But I didn’t care. I was delighted at the chance to try
the Mercedes, which handled just as smoothly as I’d imagined.

The first thing Dr. MacLaren said was, “You
do both know that even if Lucienne is pregnant, there’s still a ten
percent chance of miscarriage?” He looked with concern at Kiera,
who flinched.

“Yes, of course,” Kiera said, her voice
hopeful and bright. “But we simply couldn’t wait any longer.” She
was perfectly turned out, in what she called one of her wife suits,
from her Toronto days. She seemed to have closets full of this kind
of thing, which she wore whenever she left Malagash. Today’s outfit
was a short navy wool skirt and well-cut jacket. With it she wore a
cream silk blouse and simple gold jewelry.

Examining me, the doctor was just as gentle
as I remembered. “Well, yes, you definitely are pregnant,” he said
at last, smiling as smugly as if he himself were responsible.
“About five weeks.” Kiera hugged me hard when I sat up, then
twirled around to hug Dr. MacLaren too. He looked quite surprised,
then laughed it off. “I’d say you’re due June 29,” he said. “We’ll
arrange for an ultrasound in Halifax to be more exact, but please
don’t get hung up on a date. You just never know for sure. I’ll see
you once a month for the first while, more often towards the end.
Any questions?”

From my reading in the library at Malagash,
I’d already made a few decisions. “I want to deliver without
drugs,” I said. “Maybe even at Malagash, not in hospital. How do
you feel about that?”

Dr. MacLaren just shrugged. “Well, I think
you’ll find our little clinic here in Airdrie Bay is quite like
home, but let’s see how things go. There’s a local midwife I often
work with, Holly Boyd, you should get in touch with her. And you’ll
want to find a good labor coach.”

“Okay,” I said, looking at Kiera. We hadn’t
discussed any of this and I wasn’t sure how she’d react. I had a
feeling she’d go for whatever I wanted, but that Nick might be a
problem. He’d probably want the most high tech birth possible.

“Oh, I’d absolutely love to be your labor
coach,” Kiera said. “If you’d want me that is. What a perfect way
to be involved in my baby’s birth. Well, your baby, but you know
what I mean.”

“Sure,” I said. I couldn’t tell her she was
my second choice. If it were possible, which of course it wasn’t, I
would have liked Nick to coach me.

Nick appeared unexpectedly that weekend, on
Canadian Thanksgiving Day, roaring up to Malagash on his bike like
some macho teenager. “I had to get away, Toronto is just so
frantic,” he said as he came in, helmet under his arm.

“But you never come down for Thanksgiving.”
Kiera looked bewildered, perhaps even a little annoyed. “And you
like things frantic.”

Nick just smiled. “Okay then, I’ll admit it.
I wanted to check out our pregnancy. I want to know absolutely
everything that happens I’ve already got June 29 penciled in.”

“Doctor MacLaren says everything is fine
Nick,” Kiera said. “I told you on the phone.”

Nick ignored her. “Congratulations,” he said,
giving me a huge hug. “I can’t believe I’m finally going to be a
father. I’m just so totally blown away.” His arm lingered around my
waist, his hand on the small of my back. “Have you found those
trails yet? As soon as I change I’m going for a run. Join me?”

“Do go ahead, if you like,” Kiera said, too
quickly, as if she were eager to be rid of us. “I’m going to see if
Phoebe needs help with the pies.”

As I rushed to my room to change I wondered
what on earth had possessed me. I’d already been for a run in the
morning and wasn’t feeling all that energetic. Did I think I had to
prove pregnancy couldn’t slow me down?