“Yes, that’s a good example,” Dr. Samuels said.
“But why would I have this?” I asked. “I don’t want to be pregnant.”
“I’m not a psychiatrist, but subconsciously, you might,” Dr. Samuels said, and looked at Cassie again. “Your sister has told me about your mother losing her baby and how that led to a larger tragedy.”
“And deeply disappointed our father,” Cassie added. “He hasn’t been the same since that aborted pregnancy.”
I shook my head. “I still don’t understand.”
“In your subconscious mind, you’re having the baby who was lost and giving your father a wonderful gift,” Dr. Samuels said. Cassie nodded when he looked at her again.
“No,” I said. “I never—”
“It’s like any mental aberration. You’re not in full control of it, but in time, you’ll get better,” Dr. Samuels said. He finally smiled. “There’s nothing really to do about this. No medicine to take. Some people go to a therapist, of course.”
“We don’t need to do that,” Cassie said quickly. “We’ll handle this ourselves.”
Dr. Samuels nodded.
“I don’t do anything else?” I asked.
He shook his head. “In time, you’ll begin to lose the symptoms. You’ll go back to being a normal teenage girl.” He patted my hand and closed his bag.
“I’ll walk you out,” Cassie said. “Just wait here, Semantha,” she told me.
I couldn’t move, anyway. I was as solid as a statue and just as cold.
Cassie returned ten minutes later. She began to pace in front of me as she often did when she was doing some serious, deep thinking.
“Okay,” she said, pausing and turning to me. “Here’s what we’ll do. If this continues and you do indeed grow larger, you’ll wear a girdle.”
“A girdle?”
“Yes. It’s something women used to wear often. It will hold you in so that Daddy especially will not notice anything.”
“But maybe we should tell him, Cassie. He’ll be angry.”
“I doubt it. He’d only find a way to blame himself for something else. It’s enough that he thinks he can’t be a good father without Mother at his side. Your condition will only reinforce that guilt in him and make him even more unhappy, as hard as that is to imagine. When it’s all over, we’ll tell him, and he’ll be proud of you and me, proud that we handled a serious situation ourselves without troubling him.”
“Maybe this will stop,” I said hopefully. Then I realized something else. “What about school, Cassie?”
“What about it?”
“We’ve got to arrange for my attending a new school after the summer.”
“Not while you’re in this condition.”
“But … if I don’t get better, Daddy will wonder why I’m not going. We’ve got to tell him about this.”
“No!” she shouted. She immediately calmed. “I mean, we’ll hold off as long as possible, especially while he’s under such pressure.”
“What will we say?”
“We’ll say you decided you wanted to continue home-schooling. I’ll tell him we visited some schools and none was very attractive to you or to me, for that matter. Don’t worry. I can convince him as long as you tell him the same thing.”
“But … I want to go to school.”
“You will, as soon as this is over.”
“How do we get it to be over?”
“I spoke with Dr. Samuels a little more about it when I escorted him out. He suggests a little tough love.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You already know what that means. I explained it when we had the problems with Mother.”
“But how does that apply to me now?”
“It means don’t expect me to be sympathetic to your aches and pains and complaints, Semantha. I’m not going to stay home and babysit you, either. However, you are not to leave the house now. Our little trips are ended until this situation changes. I don’t want the grounds workers seeing you, either, just in case you forget to wear your girdle or something. Understand?”
“I’ll be like a prisoner.”
“You’re a prisoner of your own condition.”
“But I don’t feel that way. I don’t want to have any baby, for Daddy or anyone. I’m not doing this to myself!” I cried.
“Yes, you are!” she screamed back at me. She looked angrier than I could ever remember. “You’re doing this for the Heavenstones.”
I was speechless at her rage and also confused. She made it sound as if she were angry and approving simultaneously. I shook my head.
“Just do what I said,” she added in a calmer tone. She could turn her moods on and off like a hot and cold faucet. “I’ve got to go to the office. Watch yourself,” she warned. “Remember. Don’t embarrass the family.”
I remained in my room for almost an hour after she left. Her words had made me tremble, and the trembling didn’t want to subside. I was still in shock from what the doctor had said. Every once in a while, I stopped at a mirror and looked at myself. How could my subconscious mind, my own imagination, be doing this to me? For a while, I wandered about aimlessly, disinterested in anything and everything. Then I went to my computer and looked up pseudocyesis. It was exactly how Dr. Samuels had described it, and there was even a reference to Mary Tudor, whom Cassie had mentioned.
Even though I read this and understood, I couldn’t stop myself from experiencing all of the symptoms of pregnancy during the days and weeks that followed. I tried not to have a bigger appetite, but my resistance was weak, and I ate more than I should have. Every morning, I weighed myself and saw that I was still gaining, and my waist and stomach were expanding. Cassie saw this, too, and one morning, she had left the girdle for me to wear. It was very uncomfortable, so I wore it only when Daddy came home, or at least I tried to restrict it to that. Cassie would appear, see I wasn’t wearing it, and go into one of her rages.
“You’ll make a mistake and go outside when the workers are around or something is delivered. Unless you stay only in your room, you put it on.”
I couldn’t disagree. Uncle Perry had appeared at the door unannounced one afternoon, and I had almost neglected to put on the girdle.
“Hey,” he said when I went to the door. “How are you, Sam? I was visiting a manufacturer not far from here and thought I’d stop by.”
I stood staring out at him stupidly. In the back of my mind, I was worried that Cassie wouldn’t approve of my inviting him in right now.
“Hi. I’m fine,” I said.
“Can I come in? I’ve got a little time,” he said.
“Of course.” I stepped back, but I was very nervous and afraid he would see it.
“It’s pretty hot today,” he said, gazing around but eyeing me suspiciously. “Got something cold to drink?”
“Oh, sure. I made some lemonade this morning.”
“Perfect,” he said, and followed me to the kitchen. “I’ve been asking about you. Sorry I haven’t come around, but Teddy is making some major changes, and we’ve all been quite busy. If I ever needed a vacation, now is the time.”
“Are you going anywhere soon?” I asked, pouring him a glass of lemonade and pouring one for myself.
“I’m supposed to go to Greece. A friend has a friend in Athens, and from there we’re going to some islands, Mykonos, Crete, and a less known one, Chios. His friend has a yacht.”
“That sounds wonderful. I want to travel like you someday, too.”
“You will,” he said. “I’m sure.” He sat at the kitchenette.“So, tell me, what have you been doing with yourself besides the home-schooling?”
“Lots of reading, cooking, taking care of the house.”
“Still no having friends visit or doing things with them?”
“No. But,” I added quickly, “I’m sure I’ll make new friends soon.”
“Really? I understand from Teddy that you want to continue home-schooling.”
“Fo
r a while, yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m just more comfortable with it now. I’ll be all right.”
“It’s not healthy for a girl your age to be cloistered like this. Is it because of your mother, what she did?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “Do you still feel you can’t face people?”
“Maybe. I suppose,” I said, appreciating the reason. For now, it got me off the hook.
“Perhaps you should see a therapist, Sam. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
I nodded. “I’ll see. Actually, Cassie and I have been talking about it.”
It wasn’t a total lie. I had been talking about it. She had just not responded with any enthusiasm.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying you look like you’ve gained some weight.”
“I know. I’m on a diet,” I said.
The look on his face told me he was just as good as Cassie when it came to reading my face. I had to look away.
“You’re eating out of boredom, aren’t you?” he asked.
I breathed relief. At least, he hadn’t thought of any other reason.
“I suppose.”
“This is so unhealthy for a young girl as vibrant as you, Sam. Would you mind very much if I nagged my brother about it?”
“Yes,” I said a little too emphatically. I calmed quickly. “Please don’t, Uncle Perry. I would hate myself if I added any new worries to Daddy’s list right now. I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll do what you suggest and see a therapist soon. Please don’t bother Daddy about it.”
He drank his lemonade and stared at me with skepticism.
“Besides, I’ve been doing a lot with Cassie,” I said. “We go shopping and out to lunch and to movies. It’s given us a chance to get to know each other better.”
He nodded. “Well, I hope more of you will rub off on her than vice versa,” he said, and downed his lemonade. “Okay. I just wanted to be sure to stop in to see how you were.” He rose. “When I return from Greece, I’ll take you to dinner and tell you all about it.”
“I’d like that.”
“In the meantime, watch for my postcards.”
“I will,” I said, and followed him to the front door.
He looked intently at me for a moment and then put his hands gently on my shoulders and kissed my cheek.
“Don’t ever hesitate to call me if you need anything, Sam. I’m always there for you.”
“Thank you, Uncle Perry.”
“Think seriously about the therapy, Sam. You’ve got to get on with your life.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Good. See you soon,” he said, and left.
I couldn’t help wondering if he had left with more concern and suspicions. When Cassie came home, I told her he had stopped by.
“You didn’t greet him without your girdle on?”
“No, but he remarked about my weight.”
“He did, did he? A gentleman wouldn’t be so crude.”
“He was just worried.”
She thought a moment.“You didn’t say anything to make him suspicious?”
“No.”
She nodded.
“He thinks I’m staying home because of Mother and what happened. He thinks I should see a therapist.”
“Oh, he does, does he? Good. Let him think that.”
“I asked him not to say anything to Daddy, but he might.”
“Don’t worry about him. I’ll know if he says anything to Daddy. Just keep doing what you’re doing,” she advised. “And don’t forget that girdle.”
I did as she said, frightened that she would appear suddenly at any time and catch me without it. It worked until I started what was my seventh month of this imaginary pregnancy. I had begun to experience the “quickening” Dr. Samuels had described, but I was afraid to mention it to Cassie. She made it clear that she still didn’t want to hear anything relating to my condition, whether it be pains, frequent urinating, or this.
Finally, I went into her bedroom late in the afternoon one day and told her I couldn’t wear the girdle. She had to listen whether she liked it or not. She was sitting at her vanity table, Mother’s vanity table, and brushing her hair slowly. Lately, she had been wearing more makeup and spending more time on her appearance. She didn’t turn from the mirror. She kept brushing her hair, either ignoring me or locked in some trance.
“Cassie, didn’t you hear what I said? It’s too difficult!” I cried.
The one thing she had done was buy me some dresses a few sizes too large. So far, we had been successful in keeping it all from Daddy. He was involved in some major new real estate ventures and expansion of the Heavenstone Stores. He was working on going public and raising millions through stock. It was all quite involved and over my head. I had so little patience for anything these days, anyway, even reading and watching television. Finicky, achy, and deeply unhappy about my imprisonment, I wandered about like some lunatic in an asylum. Anyone who had known and seen me seven months ago would surely wonder what was happening to me. I wasn’t taking care of my hair and didn’t bother to put on lipstick. What was the point? No one except Cassie and Daddy, when he was around, would see me.
“Nonsense,” she replied, still looking at herself in the mirror and still brushing her hair. “You’ll—”
“No!” I shouted. I couldn’t stand it anymore. “I can’t. I won’t. And there’s more. I am feeling the quickening. It’s more than a feeling. I feel a baby inside me … kicking. You’ve got to call Dr. Samuels and have him return, or else … or else I’m telling Daddy everything.”
She finally stopped brushing her hair and turned to me. She stared at me a moment. I thought she was going to go into one of her rages. I was prepared for it, but instead, she suddenly smiled, and for some reason, that smile was more frightening than any look of anger on her face.
“You feel the baby kicking?”
“Yes, and don’t go on about how it’s my subconscious. I can’t stand all this lying and avoiding Daddy’s eyes and everything. I want to tell him. I can’t live like this. I’m like a trapped animal.”
She was silent, but I didn’t budge. This is one time Cassie will not intimidate me, I thought. I’m not leaving this room until I get her to agree, and I will make it clear to her that even if she doesn’t agree, this is what I will do.
“Yes,” she said, surprising me. “It’s time to tell him, time to tell him everything.”
Her agreement had an effect on me that was the opposite of what I had expected. Instead of being satisfied, I was suddenly frightened. Maybe I shouldn’t be forcing this. Maybe I should wait, I thought.
“What about Dr. Samuels?”
“There’s no point in that man coming here, Semantha. He can’t change anything.”
“But he said I should go to a therapist. Can’t we arrange that secretly, too? I’ll do it.”
“There’s no point in that, either.”
“Why not? How do you know so much? You’re not a psychiatrist, Cassie.”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t. Mother used to say you were full of self-confidence, but too much self-confidence can be bad. It can make you arrogant, Cassie.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Well,” she said, continuing that now annoying smile, “I have just enough self-confidence to know there’s no reason for you to see a therapist.”
“And why not?” I was practically screaming now. I could feel the heat in my face and the strain in my neck.
“Because you really are pregnant, Semantha. You don’t have any mental condition. You’re having a baby, and soon, too.”
A Plan
WHEN A CHARACTER in the novels I read, especially my romance novels, had a shock, the author would write, “it was like a clap of thunder.” Well, it was like that when I heard Cassie’s words. The air seemed to snap around me and be filled with electricity. It jolted me. I felt my entire body recoil and my heart sink in my chest. r />
“What? What are you saying, Cassie?”
She turned and looked at herself in the vanitytable mirror. “Daddy needs his Asa,” she said, “and very soon now, you’re going to give him to Daddy.”
She spun around.
“It will be a wonderful day, a wonderful gift, and our world will return, our Heavenstone world. Just think. I’ll take care of him, be his mother. You can return to school, and no one will know what happened.”
“What are you talking about? Dr. Samuels said I wasn’t pregnant. He said—”
“He said what I wanted him to say. He was someone I hired to play the part,” she admitted. “He did a very good job, too, with my coaching and preparation, of course.”
“He wasn’t a real doctor?” She didn’t answer. “Why would you do that?”
“Why? If you knew you were really pregnant, you would have wanted to abort. Don’t say no.”
I stared at her, the words tripping over my paralyzed tongue.
“Oh, don’t be upset, Semantha. You’re doing a wonderful thing for our family. In time, you’ll not only understand. You’ll realize just how clever I’ve been and thank me.”
“Thank you?” Realizations were striking at me like meteors zooming down from outer space. “Then I didn’t dream about Porter raping me. He did rape me. All that I thought, that you told me were fantasies … what I saw happening, the date-rape drug … it was true, and you knew it.”
She turned back to look in the mirror.“Porter is intelligent and capable and, most of all, ambitious. He’s going to be the manager of the store starting next week, and in time, I’m sure he’ll become one of our top executives, maybe Daddy’s right-hand man, especially since I’ll be so occupied now with Asa. He has the right genes to father a Heavenstone. Believe me, I made a thorough study before I engaged him. He’s the youngest of four boys, and every one of his married brothers has had only boys.”
I had to catch my breath to speak. Every word she said quickened my heart even more. My legs felt wobbly. I leaned back against the wall. She continued to brush her hair as if we were speaking about the most trivial things.