Читать книгу The Pregnancy Project - Victoria Pade - Страница 11

“N ow you’re going to let them turn you into a pincushion?”

Ella laughed at her sister, Sara’s, comment in regards to her announcement that she was about to begin acupuncture treatment for infertility. “Yes, I guess I am,” she confirmed.

It was Tuesday and Ella had taken the afternoon off to shop with Sara and Sara’s about-to-be-three-year-old daughter, Janey, for Janey’s birthday party on Friday night. After buying balloons and streamers and other decorations in the princess theme Janey had chosen, they were at Janey’s favorite playground. While Janey climbed on a giant plastic replica of a hamburger, Ella and Sara sat on a bench close by, having mocha lattes.

“It won’t only be acupuncture, though.” Ella continued to explain her next plan of attack in her attempt to conquer her childlessness. “I met with Dr. Schwartz last night and I’m also taking herbs—a powder form specially blended for me that I mix in water to drink. Plus she’ll be teaching us meditation and relaxation techniques and some acupressure, and there’s even some therapeutic massage that sounds kind of nice.”

“But needles, El, needles,” Sara persisted.

“Don’t sound so horrified. It isn’t as if she’s going to poke my eyes out with them or anything. Kim—she’s the doctor—showed them to us and they’re very, very thin needles, about the width of a hair. They don’t go in all that far, either.”

“But they do go in. Into your skin.”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay. Acupuncture has been around for centuries—longer than Western medicine. A gazillion people have survived it and I think I will, too.”

“I just don’t see how that’s going to help you get pregnant.” Sara added skepticism to her distaste of the idea of the needles.

“It may not. It’s an experimental study. That means we’re trying something new to see what happens. But one way or another it’s harmless. The goal is sort of to reset my body so everything is working the way it should be, to put me at optimal speed so that maybe, when JacobWeber does in vitro on me again afterward, it will actually take.”

“But is it worth it?”

Ella looked over at Janey just as her niece stood tall atop one end of a make-believe stack of toast and leaped off as if it were the accomplishment of a lifetime, laughing gleefully when she landed in the sand.

“Anything—everything—is worth it. And believe me, I’ve been through much worse than being poked with needles,” Ella assured her sister.

“Maybe. But have you been through worse than Jacob Weber?” Sara asked.

“I know you never liked him—”

“That’s an understatement. No one liked him and most of us actively disliked him.”

Ella knew Sara was referring to her college days at Saunders University.

“Maybe you’d feel different if you crossed paths with him now,” Ella suggested.

“How could I feel any different when he was such a creep? All those airs he put on. Acting as if it was beneath him to even talk to the rest of us. You know I was in that poli-sci class with him and when the professor broke us up into groups for a project the high-and-mighty Jacob Weber refused to work with us—or with any of the other groups—and instead did an entirely separate project on his own. He made it clear that he’d rather work alone than have to hang out with any of us. It was as if he thought we were lower life forms or something.”

Ella had heard that story at the time and on several occasions since—whenever Jacob Weber’s name had come up. That was usually because something had been written about him and his accomplishments in a Boston newspaper or in the Saunders University alumni newsletter. But for the first time, Ella felt inclined to refute her sister’s opinion of the man. Slightly, anyway.

“To tell you the truth, he kind of surprised me when I was with him on Friday night,” Ella ventured tentatively, knowing Sara wouldn’t be receptive to hearing anything positive on this subject.

“How did he surprise you? You couldn’t believe anyone could be such a big jerk?”

“That was what I thought when I first met him at my consultation and while he kept me waiting in his office on Friday,” Ella acknowledged. “But now I don’t know, something changed.”

“Like what?” Sara asked in disbelief.

“Well, for starters, he has this tiny schnauzer puppy he found on the street when it was only days old and he’s been taking twenty-four-hour care of it to keep it alive.”

“He probably eats schnauzers with fava beans and a nice Chianti and he’s just fattening up the poor thing to make a good meal out of it,” Sara said sarcastically.

Ella laughed again but didn’t comment on her sister’s cutting remark. “Her name is Champ, and he carries her around in his pocket and talks to her like she’s a small child. And she seems to love him.”

“Give her time.”

“No, really, Sara. I’m beginning to think that maybe—just maybe—he isn’t all bad. Yes, his social skills leave something to be desired. A lot to be desired. But after a while Friday night he sort of relaxed a little and… I don’t know, he was nicer. He can even be funny when he wants to be.”

“He’s drugged you, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, I’m sure there’s some kind of make-Jacob Weber-easier-to-tolerate medicine in my particular mixture of Chinese herbs,” Ella answered facetiously.

“I’m telling you, El, he’s the most obnoxious, standoffish snob I’ve ever met. Don’t be fooled by him because he has a dog.”

“It isn’t only the dog. He…” Ella struggled to find the words to describe the subtle change she’d seen in the man. “He just got better over time, even after we’d let off the dog. He showed some interest in me as a person, not just as a patient. He asked why I do what I do for a living. He actually listened to what I had to say, and commented and participated in the conversation as if it interested him. He answered my questions about his occupation and why he got into it. We had a nice talk.”

“Nice and Jacob Weber? Uh-uh. The two just don’t go together. Maybe he’s mastered some kind of cloaking device to pull off a better bedside manner,” Sara suggested.

“No, his bedside manner is rotten—I saw that when I had my appointment. This wasn’t the doctor thing at all. This was actually like seeing the man himself. I’m not sure why it happened—maybe the chemicals in hot dogs have some kind of neutralizing effect on him or something. But I’m telling you that by the end of the time we were together, he wasn’t nearly as… As Jacob Weberish.”

“Maybe he has plans to eat you with fava beans and a nice Chianti.”

Ella rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying he didn’t start out abrasive and nasty and off-putting, because he did. I’m just saying that he didn’t stay that way. So maybe under the surface—”

“My advice?” Sara said, cutting her off before she could go any further in that vein. “Don’t get under any surfaces with that guy.”

Ella laughed a third time. “You’re hopeless.”

“What I hope is that you’re right and he can help you get pregnant,” Sara said more seriously as Janey ran to her to show her a pink rock she’d found. “But don’t let him fool you into thinking he’s a nice guy, because he isn’t.”

Ella’s niece wanted her opinion on the rock, too, and after assuring her it really was beautiful, Ella said to Sara, “The bottom line is that Jacob Weber is the best in his field and that’s all that matters.”

But that wasn’t entirely true.

Because she’d liked it when Jacob had mellowed on Friday night and she hoped that side of him was still in evidence when she saw him again tonight.

And she was afraid that if it wasn’t, she was going to be very sorry that it had disappeared.

More sorry than she wanted her sister to know.