Unnatural Calamities (17 page)

Janey and Toph were reenacting the heck out of the scene, but not doing a very good job of staying faithful to the specifics. He lay on top of her, yes, but he stroked up her rib cage with both hands, and she used both of hers to explore him too. She had yanked the towels off the towel bars next to the tub to play the role of the orange and green quilt.

“Janey? The timer went off so I took the brownies out of the oven.” Rachel’s voice was just outside the bathroom. “You all right?”

“Fine,” Janey replied, breathless but as cheerily as she could manage. She cast a frantic look at Toph, but he only smiled.

Rachel didn’t walk away from the bathroom door. “I thought I heard Mr. Dunham come back. Is he around?”

“Oh. Well. Yeah.”

Rachel’s footsteps receded. Toph pulled himself away from Janey and grimaced as he hauled himself together. Or rather hauled his trousers together. They hadn’t managed to get all the way to the actual crime, but were likely a minute or two away.

In less than a minute, Rachel was back. “The apartment is too darned small,” Janey whispered.

“Janey? So, where’s Mr. Dunham?”

He’d pulled himself out of the tub with one fluid movement, Toph the swimmer, and sat on the edge. He offered Janey a hand to pull her up. She sat without his help.

“Oh. Yeah. Um. He’s in here.”

Rachel opened the door without knocking.

They should have gotten away with it. They would have too. Janey didn’t open her mouth because she was sure Toph could carry it off.

He didn’t disappoint her.

“Janey is trying to remember the night we were hostages,” Toph explained calmly. “Or rather, what had happened the hour before she was knocked out. I was helping her reconstruct events.”

Rachel merely gave an interested nod, her curls bobbing.

“Yeah. From all what Janey says, it sounds weirder than heck losing something like a chunk of your life an…”

Her voice trailed away. She gaped at the sink.

A six-inch-long white plastic stick lay on the edge of the sink. It had two small blue bars.

Rachel pointed at the test as if it were a live rattlesnake. “Omigod! This is a pregnancy test! Janey! Is this yours?”

“Rachel, how in the world do you know about pregnancy tests? You’re too young—”

“Omigod! It’s positive. Was it Zack? Did he do this to you? That horrible, horrible bastard. Oh Janey! Omigod!” Rachel burst into tears.

So of course they had to tell her the truth. Or a version of it that left out the handcuffs and other sordid details.

Rachel wasn’t morally dismayed. Merely grossed out.

“Gross! Yuck! But you guys are so old.”

Toph had a sudden coughing fit. Janey turned even more bright red.

Rachel sat on the closed toilet, pulled an ankle onto her knee and jiggled her foot. The silver chain on her ankle tinkled frantically. “Does Cynthia know?”

“No. No one does other than you.”

“You getting married or something?”

Toph said, “We’re discussing that.”

Rachel’s foot stopped bouncing. She smiled. “Well, it’s okay with me. I mean you’re okay, Mr. Dunham. And you’re really rich, which Janey and I could definitely use.”

Janey was appalled. “Rachel!”

“Just trying to be honest. Wow. This would be like Cynthia and I were sisters, or something. Hey, that reminds me, Janey.” Rachel hesitated. “While you were in the hospital, Mr. Dunham and I talked, and I ended up telling Cynthia the truth, by the way. About Penny.”

Janey flinched. She wished Rachel could bring herself to call Penny “mom”.

Rachel continued, “So when’s the wedding?”

“We haven’t decided what to do yet.” Janey shot a sidelong glance at Toph. “But you should know that I am going to have the baby.”

Rachel turned toward her. Her soft hazel eyes looked suddenly adult. She often swooped between child and adult in a way that scared and exhilarated Janey. “Janey. Please, listen to me. You should get married. I mean it.” She spoke in a measured tone.

“Why would it— Oh. Honey, I know—” Janey pressed her lips together when she remembered Rachel’s own background.

“Yeah, and it’s bad news. I really, really mean it. It’s okay if you want to get divorced later. But it should have a real mom and a real dad to start out with. Married, I mean.”

“Oh Rachel, honey, I’m so sorry. I wish you had a—”

“Janey.” Not only adult, but patient, thoughtful adult. “We’re not talking about me right now. We’re talking about that.” She pointed to the pregnancy test.

“Ew, yuck,” she added, with an abrupt dip back to teenager. “I can’t believe you two did that.”

And then less than a second she was back to extremely adult. “What were you thinking? I mean, you don’t even know each other that well, do you? You’d just met. That’s the kind of doot-brained thing Penny would do.”

Even Toph didn’t try to come up with an answer for her.

After that, Janey remained silent, but she understood she truly was trapped. Like a rat. Rachel would never forgive her and perhaps little Toph, Jr. wouldn’t either if she didn’t marry Toph, Sr.

Toph and Rachel ate brownies, and for some reason attempted to make small talk about other things, any other thing but the baby. Janey merely stared at the plate of brownies, too unsettled even for chocolate.

Toph hung around a while, perhaps hoping she would ask him to stay longer.

“I have to talk to Rachel,” she said at last. “Alone.”

But it turned out she couldn’t think of a thing to say to the beaming, babbling girl. Good thing, since she wouldn’t have gotten a word in edgewise. Once Toph left, Rachel let loose.

“It’ll be great,” Rachel said. “You should have a real wedding you know. I’ll help plan it. Lots of food and lots of great stuff like prizes. My friend Katie? Her mom had organized games before. What sort of theme do you think? I bet your friend Margaret would love to help you. She knows everyone here in town. And where will we live after you’re married?”

Married? She could not bend her mind around the word. She needed time to get used to the idea. After all, it had been less than twenty-four hours. They’d have to wait until she grew accustomed to the plan. Perhaps they could wait until Toph Jr. was a bit older to get married. Say, twenty or so.

Rachel talked and Janey smiled and occasionally nodded at her, wishing her niece’s energy would wind down. At last Rachel remembered a test she had to study for.

Janey waited until the door to Rachel’s room had closed before she called Mickey on his cell phone. In the days since she’d met him, she’d started calling Mickey about everything.

“O’Connor here.” He bellowed into the phone as if offended by whomever dared call him. He had caller ID of course, but usually refused to check it.

“And Janey here. Do I really have no insurance?”

“Yup.”

“Which yup is that? Yup I don’t or yup I do?”

Mickey spelled it out. “You. Have. No. Health. Insurance.”

She frowned, trying to remember the checkout process at the hospital. Nothing about a payment plan. No threats to repossess her body if she didn’t pay in time. Just Mickey and some sheets of paper to sign. “Why didn’t you tell me? How come I was allowed to leave the hospital without donating a kidney?”

He clicked his tongue impatiently. “I told you I took care of it. You didn’t seem interested in the details at the time. Look, do you need anything else cause I gotta go an—”

“You took care of it, Mickey?”

“Yeah, so, not really. I’m not as sweet on you as that. I’m just the detail man.”

“Mr. Dunham.”

“You guessed it. Himself.”

She groaned so loud that Mickey complained. “My ear. Whaddaya trying to do? Make me go deaf?”

“How much?”

He told her.

Tears formed in Janey’s eyes. She owed Toph Dunham twenty-five thousand dollars.

“Carmody? You still there?”

“Oh, blast it all, what am I going to do?”

“Hell. I don’t know. Forget about it. Dunham probably has.”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars? He’s forgotten about twenty-five thousand dollars?”

“You don’t stop that squealing, girl, I’m gonna hang up. ’Sides, we’re working on getting the police to cough up your expenses. And some pain and suffering dough as well. I’m just about sure they will too. Anything to get me off their butts.” He spoke with more than a touch of pride.

“Mickey, tell me what you know about Toph. Everything. And please don’t get all prickly. I need to know about him.”

Mickey’s voice was suddenly guarded. “Why?”

“Personal reasons.”

A long pause, and she could hear Mickey grumble under his breath. For once he didn’t sound sarcastic as he answered. “Dunham’s a good man, Carmody. I’m not dishing dirt on him. Not even for you and Rachel.” His voice dropped back to its customary grumble as he added, “Hell, got nothing really worthwhile to dish. He’s a boring bastard.”

“No, you don’t understand. He wants to marry me.”

His whoop of laughter made her wince. “He works fast doesn’t he? Always has.”

“Tell me about Toph. Tell me how you met.”

“Aw hell. You gonna be part of the family, I’ll take an hour and meet you somewheres.”

“I haven’t said yes, dang it.”

“I’ll buy you a drink to celebrate. Know a weirdass little place called The Pickled Chug?”

“Yeah, I know it becau—”

“Dump our girl Rachel at a friend’s house. I’ll meet you there in an hour.” He hung up.

Oh well. She wanted see Lindy anyway.

As she drove to the city, she considered everyone’s confidence she’d accept Toph’s proposal. Just because the man was rich, kind, intelligent, stunningly handsome, fabulous in bed, and she carried his child did not mean she wanted to marry him, dammit.

And she did not like this “part of the family” thing Mickey and Bea mentioned. What was Toph anyway, some kind of cult leader? A tribal chief? The godfather?

She had her own extended family in a way. She’d show Mickey she had a crew too. She was glad she met him outside the door, by the Chug’s awning. That way they could walk in together and she could introduce him to Lindy.

“Sweetie!” Lindy yelled. And she flung her arms around Mickey.

Everything about Lindy screamed drama. Her opera diva’s voluptuous figure, her black hair with its dramatic grey streaks. She once told Janey she might as well give in to her natural bend, which was why she usually wore bright eyeshadow that evoked sixties mod. Today she’d painted her eyelids a bright purple that reached almost to her eyebrows.

“I’m so glad to see you, love!” she said to Janey, adding, “I’d hug you but I’m afraid I’d hurt your poor shoulder.”

Janey gritted her teeth. “How do you know Mickey?”

“God, hon. Who doesn’t know Mickey?” Lindy led them to Janey’s favorite table, the one with a giraffe motif and the spotty couch that was fun to lounge on.

They ate delicious, vaguely Mexican food. The menu changed every few days depending on what ingredients were available. Janey suspected Lindy had gotten a deal on cilantro, chipotles, limes, avocados and tomatoes that morning.

“Go ahead,” she said to Mickey. “Tell me about Toph.”

For once Mickey didn’t dodge or grumble but launched right in. “I met Toph about eleven years ago when I was doing yard work. I was seventeen, and had dropped out of high school and, uh, had gotten into some trouble. Let’s just say I was on probation. He and Bea were still married back then and living near Greenwich. Anyway. I was on this landscaping crew. We were there to do mowing, for crissakes, and Bea wanted us to do something about repairing this wall. A big pain-in-the-ass old stone wall. And I was arguing with her saying it wasn’t our job. She’s arguing right back. She can be mighty bitchy when she wants to be. Entitled rich girl.”

Mickey smiled appreciatively. Clearly he admired that kind of attitude. “So Toph wanders by and starts to listen. He sits down on the wall. The one we’re arguing about. And damned if about ten minutes into it he didn’t interrupt the fight to invite me to lunch. Says he thought I had ‘an interesting way of presenting myself and my points’.”

“Didn’t Bea object?”

“Yeah, maybe. I can’t remember if she was at lunch. I didn’t care because by the end of lunch, Toph told me if I finished high school or got a GED, he’d help me with college. I never in a million years thought I wanted to go to college.” Micky snorted and shook his head. “The way the guy talked, he had me wrapped up in ideas that never entered my head. Hell, I had no plans other than not repairing that mother-effing wall of theirs. I thought, why not. Has to be better than mowing rich assholes’ lawns. I’ll give it a try. And here I am.”

“He paid your bills?”

“We had a semester-by-semester deal. Contracts and shit. I eventually paid ’em back. Most of them, anyway. He got some kind of business after all. Not like any other I ever heard of. But he even occasionally makes money at it. The man’s a limited liability corporation.”

He speared a piece of Mexican-style broccoli. “Anyway, Toph offered to help with the school bills. And then he paid for law school.”

“So he just gave you money?”

“Yeah. And he takes care of other problems, nibbles at your doubts. He gets you to do the work you want to do or are supposed to do. He does the rest.”

She made a face.

Mickey made a face right back at her. “What the hell’s wrong with that? He takes care of me. And the others, but we do our part.”

She couldn’t answer for a moment. “Sounds like he’s a daddy. I don’t want to be a child. I have stood on my own two feet for years and like it that way.”

Mickey swallowed his mouthful of lamb before answering. “Nope. Nobody can turn you into a child unless you do it to yourself, Carmody.”

She suspected he was right, but that didn’t make her feel any better. “Anyway, he doesn’t love me.”

“Then why does he want to…sheyit.” He stared at her for a long minute. Then he put down his fork and elegantly patted his lips with a napkin. “Something tells me I didn’t hear every detail of what happened while you two were kidnapped. Are you pregnant?”

She nodded.

“Dunham’s or Blair’s?”