She hopped down from the forest level, looking like a kid whod been playing touch football after a rain. Smiling. Knees and hands and shoes filthy. A swipe of dirt on her chin. and our second problem was to produce a superior bean. A bean better than anyone had ever seen before. And further, to produce several new varieties of superior beansbecause you always need a blend to make different kinds of chocolates
He gave up. Put down the hose. Carried the sacred pod around as he ambled to the front work center, where there was always a thermos of fresh coffee and mugs. He poured himself half a cup, ambled back. Undoubtedly she wouldnt notice his absence. Shed forgotten himwhich was a lot better than her being weird and jumpy and flushing whenever he looked at her sidewaysbut it was also a major comedown. Women had chased him on three continents. He knew his way around women.
Hell, he could usually find a way to cope with Lucy, too, but not when she was near her chocolate. No man could conceivably compete for her attention compared to chocolate. Ever. And she was really winding up now, her tone as breathy and excited as a woman near orgasm.
So the thing is, the revolutionary thing is, the experiments Ive been doing for your grandfather truly broke totally new ground. We werent just blending beans. Weve been blending trees. Marrying a little Trinidad with a little Jamaica. Seeing if the delicate Arriba bean from Ecuador would dance with the Rolls Royce criolla from Venezuela. And from there, if we could find those offspring willing to reproduce in a midwest climate
Lucy. He really doubted hed manage to successfully interrupt her, but shed climbed into another group of trees and tarnation, the day was wasting.
. So thats whats so exciting, Nick. Thats the thing. You want six more greenhouses, thats greatbut I need to get the seedlings and root stock and stuff started. I mean Ive got my own rootstock established now. I can fill a couple. But we need to repeat some of the experiments as well, because
Her voice dropped off. Which was impossible. Lucy never quit talking, not about chocolate, and when she was in that mid-orgasmic-beyond-excited stage, tornados could rumble and shed never notice. He said immediately, Where are you? Whats wrong?
When she didnt promptly answer, he plunked his coffee mug on the ground, set down the sacred cacao pod with it, and started jogging up and down the aisles.
Where are you? He was just about to get seriously testy when he finally located her. She was hunched over at the end of an aisle, leaning against the work counter by the coffee, holding her stomach and looking pea-green. Youre sick? he asked.
No. No. Im just a little tired today She suddenly gulped, then whirled around and ran.
Completely confused, he chased after her. She stabbed in the code numbers by the door, and then tore out. He realized in two shakes that she was obviously headed for a restroom, but she was in such an all-fired hurry she never closed the door, just made it to the sink before hurling.
Nick had always been one to run a two-minute mile away from someone being sick that way, but Lucymaybe she was slight, but normally she was stronger than an ox. Hed never heard of her taking a day off work. She had an exhausting amount of energy, never lost the whole bouncy bubble thing, always cheerleading even the lowest of the crew. So seeing her face look like pea soup shook him.
What is it, youve got a flu, a bug, what? Could you have some kind of food poisoning?
Oh God, Nick. Go away.
But he didnt go away, couldnt. She was through being sick, but now she was cupping cold water to take away the taste, splashing cold water on her face, and just hanging over that sink like she barely had the strength to stand.
How long have you been sick this way?
Actually for more than a week. It comes and goes. I was going to call a doctor, but that seemed so dumb. I feel fine. And I kept thinking itd go away. And besides that
What?
Besides that, my dads a doctor. Practically every family friend is a doctor. They all work at Mayo. So trying to see a doctor without my family finding out and worrying and prying And then she repeated, Im fine now. Just go away. Give me a minute.
Youve been hurling for more than a week? And still trying to come to work besides? He raised his eyes to the ceiling. Women. Ill take care of this.
Youll take care of what?
You, he said irritably, and reached for his cell phone.
CHAPTER FOUR
HAVING GROWN UP with doctors, Lucy not only failed to treat them like gods, but could easily tell the real silver from the tinsel. Dr. Jargowski was totally darling, with his gentle eyes and sneaky sense of humor and unshakeable patience. Unfortunately, he was a quack.
Dont be silly, Lucy told him irritably. I cant be pregnant.
You are.
She redraped the cloth in a lot more modest fashion, mentally damning Nick from here to Poughkeepsie for bullying her into this waste-of-time doctor visit. You dont understand. This has to be an ulcer. I have a great job. A job I absolutely love. But a few weeks ago, things changedthe jobs even more wonderful, really, but it also become much more serious and stressful. And Im a type A, you know? A worrier. A perfectionist. Anybody who knows me would tell you that Im prime ulcer material
You might find this hard to believe, but Im usually the one to make a diagnosis, not the patient, since I happen to be the doctor, Dr. Jargowski said with wry humor, and gave a subtle nod to the nurse, indicating she could leave the room now that the pelvic, private part of the examination was over.
Lucy didnt care whether the nurse was there or not. Well, the blood tests and exam have to be wrong. Maybe I have weird insides, did you think of that? Maybe I have a hernia or something making me nauseous. Maybe I have, I dont know, fibroid tumors in my stomach
Try to trust me a little, would you? Weird insides is not a medically descriptive term. And youd be making medical history if you showed up with fibroid tumors in your stomach, since thats an impossibility. The symptoms, in fact, are not emanating from your stomach at all.
Look, would you listen to me? I dont have a guy! I havent seriously dated anyone in almost two years! And of course I go out. But I dont casually She waved her hand expressively.
Ah. Well, even if you dont normally He waved his hand in the same expressive gesture it definitely appears that you must have. At least once. Around seven weeks ago.
Men. Men, men, men. Outside, Lucy found that the late afternoon had deteriorated into a drizzling, drooling rainwhich was going to melt all the snow and make everything icy. That was probably a mans fault, too.
She dove into her car, locked the doors, started the heater and defroster on high and then sat there, freezing to death while she waited for it all to work. Eventually she thawed enough to moveor at least to lean over far enough to click open the glove compartment.
She used to keep pepper spray in there, but over the years shed come to define emergency supplies a little differently. Thankfully she didnt waste time storing plain old candy bars for the serious crises, because now, she could go straight for the truffles. After downing three of Bernards best, the steam had cleared from the windshield and her body was no longer stiff as an icicle.
She used to keep pepper spray in there, but over the years shed come to define emergency supplies a little differently. Thankfully she didnt waste time storing plain old candy bars for the serious crises, because now, she could go straight for the truffles. After downing three of Bernards best, the steam had cleared from the windshield and her body was no longer stiff as an icicle.
Now she was just completely hysterical.
She drove home snuffling and blubbering and talking to herself. There was no one she could tell. No one she could face. Hells bells, looking at the woman in the mirror shamed her. Twenty-eight-year-old responsible women just didnt make mistakes like this. And Lucy was more than responsible. She was ultra-responsible.
In the privacy of the car, she had to admit there was a slim, very slim, possibility that the doctor wasnt a quack.
It was even vaguely, remotely possible that the Night of The Chocolate could have involved some completely unplanned, unexpected, impossible-to-prepare-forimpossible-to-imaginebehavior on her part.
It was about the Bliss, she thought morosely. Bliss just wasnt regular chocolate. And the night shed tested the new Bliss, shed discovered right away that there was something chemicallyextrain the new beans. Something powerful. Something dangerous. That had to be it. What else could explain something that could change a sensible, practical, basically shy woman into a raving nymphomaniac?
Oh, God. Shed buried the memory so deep she was positive itd never find its way to the surface again.
She moaned several times during the driveevery time that memory edged closer to her consciousness. On the inside, she felt like an eggshell with spider cracks, cracks that were slowly seeping over the whole surface of the shell. Her whole life was about to explode in a big, messy phlat. There was no way itd ever go back together the same way.
Please God. Let this be a mistake. Let me have an ulcer. Let me have a tumor. Let me have anything but a pregnancy. Come on. You know this isnt fair. Nobody should have to pay for the one single thing they did wrong, should they? Cant you find some really good sinners to vent on?
Her car swerved and she had to give up the sniveling. The temperature was dropping, turning the roads to black glass. By the time she reached home, shed leveled the glove compartments supply of emergency truffles and her chin had locked in a grim line. Her hands were stiff from controlling the wheel so hard. Whether her life was a disaster or not, she just wanted to get inside her house and put up her feet for a while. She was whipped.
Shed almost forgotten her dad was installed at her place until she pushed open the door and found all the lights on. Dad? The TV blared from the living room. It sounded like sports in a foreign language-although truth to tell, most sports sounded like a foreign language to her. Her fresh-painted white boxes in front of her green couchthe boxes that functioned as a coffee table, she thoughtwere littered with magazines, three dirty glasses, a bowl of aging cereal and a spill of loose pocket change.
Da?
Oh, there you are. Her dad strolled in from the kitchen, his hair unbrushed and sticking straight up, his feet bare. Hed been top of his class at Harvard Medical School, had students trail him down the hall whenever he spoke, had an international reputation as a heart surgeon. And hed turned into a waif. I was getting really worried. And really hungry.
Hungry
I dont care what you make, honey. You know Im not fussy. I dont want to be any trouble. Dont you usually get home from work sooner than this, though? Ive had a terrible day. Terrible
Oh, Dad. She pushed off her jacket and reached out her arms. Luther made an attempt to fold into them. Have you talked to Mom? At the look in his eyesholy kamoly, for an instant there, he looked as if he were going to cry, so she hastily changed the subject. I dont always cook during the week, so Im not sure whats around. But well look, okay?
Everythings such a mess.
She noticed that. Oh God, oh God. The kitchen in her duplex was hardly state-of-the-art, but it was still hers. There was no one to tease her for keeping the counters spotless and the sink smelling like fresh Soft Scrub, and shed slowly been collecting Staub. It cost more than she could afford, she admitted itand suffered lots of guilt for indulging herselfbut shed only been buying a piece at a time. Which meant she had three. Her dad must have tried to heat something for lunch in the red Staub terrine. The remnants looked like baked cheese. All-day-baked cheese. Well-well-well-well baked cheese.
My nurse cancelled my surgical schedule for another week, but eventually I have to go back to work. Obviously. Its justI dont know where to go. How to function. I cant commute from here, but I cant go home.
Okay, okay She squirted soap in the sink, started the water running, patted her dad, ran back out in the cold to fetch the mail, started a pot of tea, opened the fridge. I could do some fresh pasta with chives and mozzarella and mushrooms
How about burgers? Her dad sank in a kitchen chair. What if I can never work again?
Lucy pawed through the freezer again. Or we could have some veggie lasagna. With a fresh salad
How about pork chops? With your mothers mint sauce. Unless thats too much trouble. Her dad covered both his eyes. I never cheated on her, you know. Shes the only woman I ever loved. I adore her, Lucy. I dont know what I did that was so wrong.
All right, all right. Well have burgers.
She saidshe didnt love me anymore.
Oh, Dad
She said I couldnt find my own shoes. That I needed a keeper, but she wanted to be a wife, not a keeper. She said I couldnt find my own shoes, my own wallet. She said I couldnt find my own life. Lucy?
What?
She was right. I cant. What am I going to do?
She gave him some lettuce to shred. Then some more tea. Then started working with some ground roundin the long run, she refused to stuff her dad with the cholesterol-packed diet he wanted, but tonight just wasnt the right time to argue with him.
She just didnt seem to have a choice about putting her own crisis on a far back burner. She cooked. Picked up. Cleaned. Listened to her dad. Tried to fit in a general plan for Project Bliss to give to Nick in between it all, but of course, the phone kept ringing.
Right before nine, someone rapped on the back door. She found Russell hunched on the porch. At nineteen, her cousin was cuter than an Abercrombie model, all boyish charm and shy smiles. Hed glommed on her when they were kids, followed her around like a puppy, and once shed moved into her own place, hed shown up regularly.
She gave him a big hug, but whispered, Maybe it would have been better if you called first this time
I couldnt, Luce. I had something really important to discuss with you. He only stepped in as far as the doormat, standing there in the dim light with too thin a jacket and no gloves.
And youve driven all the way from Mankato
Its not that far, butaw hell. I just have to get this off my chest. And youre the only one I can discuss this with
What?
I think Im gay.
Gay, she repeated, and thought, nope. This wasnt happening to her. Maybe she was the crisis counselor in the family. Maybe shed been born with the assignment of being the Listener and Soother for the Fitzhenrys. Maybe with so many dramatic people in the clan, they naturally gravitated toward the nondramatic, boring one. Only for Petes sake. Her whole world had fallen apart today.