Part 8 (1/2)
She knocked again. ”Katie, this is childish. Open the door.”
Something hit the other side of the door loudly. Perhaps chastising Katie had not been the best approach. She tried apologizing, pleading, and downright begging, but none of that had worked. Katie was p.i.s.sed. There was no use trying to kick the door open. After the gunfight that nearly destroyed the place in July, Rainey had to replace the doors. She planned never to be afraid to fall asleep in that room. She closed in the wall where the sliding gla.s.s doors to the deck had been, and replaced the exit with a metal door and high security dead bolt lock. It wasn't as nice a view but she slept well. The interior door blocking Rainey's path was solid oak, complete with a st.u.r.dy lock and reinforced frame. Rainey never envisioned the lock being used to keep her out.
She tried again to make some headway with the irate woman on the other side of the door. She spoke softly, calmly, trying to become the voice of reason Katie might hear.
”Katie, I know what I said upset you. I am truly sorry. Please open the door and talk to me. This isn't going to just go away and I can't fix it if you won't talk to me.”
Nothing. Not a word. Rainey gave up. She'd try again later, but right now all she wanted was a drink. She had only taken two steps down the hallway when the bedroom door opened behind her. She turned, hopeful that Katie had finally given in, only to see Katie's arm slipping back inside the door, having dropped a blanket and pillow on the hall floor. Freddie ran into the bedroom before the door closed quickly. Rainey heard the lock slide into place.
”Traitor,” she called after the cat. She felt bad, but bad was turning to angry, pretty swiftly. She shouted at the door, ”Good night to you, too!”
Dammit! How had a romantic evening with so much promise turned into such a disaster? Rainey went back to the living room, pulled a bottle of bourbon from the liquor cabinet, and sat on the couch. She didn't drink much anymore, but this situation called for some real soul searching, and she happened to need a drink to get through it. Rainey's demons reared their heads at some of the most awkward moments. Tonight they got out and she didn't rein them in fast enough.
Earlier, when they finished playing grab-a.s.s in the kitchen and went out to the main room, Rainey was ready to skip the surprise and head straight to bed, the couch, the floor... she wasn't picky. Katie had other plans. She made Rainey sit on the couch beside her and placed a file folder in Rainey's lap. She kept her hand on top of the folder so Rainey couldn't open it yet.
”Before you look in here, I have to ask,” Katie paused and then added, ”when you said you were afraid to make a mistake earlier, what did you mean? Are you talking about us? Are you afraid this might be a mistake?”
”No, Katie. Not us. I'm afraid I won't be a good parent. I didn't have the kind of home life you did. My family just wasn't normal. I know nothing about raising a kid. I don't want to screw it up.”
”Oh Rainey, no one knows how to raise a kid. You just do the best you can. Between the two of us, I think we can manage.” Katie lifted her hand from the folder and touched Rainey's chin, pulling her eyes into focus. ”But I'm telling you now, you have to teach the sports stuff.”
Rainey grinned. ”How do you know he or she will be into sports?”
”I'm stacking the deck so to speak.” Katie tapped the folder. ”If not athletic, the child will at least be coordinated.”
Rainey opened the folder. Once again she was faced with a stack of profiles, only these weren't of serial rapists or murderers, they were sperm donors. Rainey surveyed the information available. It flooded at her from the pages and pages of facts and interviews. A lump formed in her throat. She couldn't help but look for the information she knew wouldn't be there.
Katie prattled on in her ear, ”These are longer than the initial donor profiles. These contain all the general information about the donor's main characteristics, like hair color, eye color, height, weight, education, blood type, ethnic origin, plus a three-generation medical and genetic history - their religious affiliations, whether they are athletes, what their interests are, hobbies, stuff like that. I picked these because they look like you. So we'll look like a family.”
Rainey was sure she was supposed to respond positively to the last comment, but at the moment her mind was occupied with the forms in front of her. Each donor's file contained extensive interviews, essays, even a childhood picture accompanied a few, but what caught Rainey's eye were the psychological exam results.
Katie had gone quiet when Rainey didn't respond to her declaration to have the child's donor look like her. Rainey turned without thinking and asked, ”Who gave these psych tests? Are they legitimate? Most psychos can pa.s.s a simple standard test. Do you know we had doc.u.mented cases where sociopaths donated sperm to reputable places? Can you imagine finding out your sperm donor was a serial killer?”
Katie stiffened. ”What if he was? Would you give the child back?”
Rainey tried to defend her comments. ”Of course not. I'm just saying you have no way of knowing who this person really is. Whether you believe it or not, genetics can play a big role in some of these malformed personalities.”
”And you don't think environment has something to do with how these 'personalities' are formed? You don't think that a loving home with responsible parents plays a bigger role in how a child turns out?”
Rainey was seeing the error in her bluntness, but she couldn't stop herself from saying, ”Yes, it can play a very large role, even bigger than genetics, but if the building blocks that make up emotion are not there, they cannot be created by just loving the child. I've looked at many a parent that had no idea that little Johnny was a stone cold killer.”
”You just made my argument, Rainey. Those parents were normal and loved their child and it turned out badly. You're basically saying it's a c.r.a.pshoot. You're never going to find the absolute perfect donor, if you look for every possible sign of defect.”
”It's better to look at them hard now instead of be sorry later.”
Katie stood up suddenly. ”What if it's not a psychological defect? What if the child has autism or a physical disability? And if you were sorry, who would you blame, the donor or me? Have you profiled me yet, Rainey?”
Rainey tried to calm Katie. ”Wait a minute. Don't get upset. I just want to be careful. We can't rush into something and not know what we're getting.”
”We'll never know for sure, Rainey. I believe babies are born innocent and we shape them through love and education.”
”Yeah, and you believed you knew who your husband was, too.”
Rainey couldn't imagine why she said that. She wanted the words back so badly. It was too late. They hit their mark dead on.
Katie's hands flew to her hips and her face flushed bright red. ”You know, you're right, Rainey. You probably would screw up a kid. I certainly don't want to sit around and watch you profiling our children, waiting for one of them to turn into a monster.”
Katie stomped off and slammed the door. Now on the couch, about to spend the night alone, Rainey's own words echoed through her brain and she could not for the life of her figure out why she had said them. She finished her second drink and poured another. She had royally f.u.c.ked up this time.
She heard the old radio show voice in her head. ”Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?” Rainey did. Why couldn't she leave that life behind her? One of the things she loved most about Katie was her eternal optimism. Rainey needed that in her life. So why was she h.e.l.l bent on making sure Katie remembered that evil existed? Katie knew it. She'd seen it up close and personal, yet she chose to look for the good in the people. Rainey still suspected the worst and was never surprised to find it, especially after her own dance with the devil.
Rainey reached down and lifted the file folder. The contents spilled across the coffee table. She sipped her bourbon, slowly being drawn to certain words on the pages; chestnut brown hair, curls, green eyes, tall, sports, law enforcement, computer science, honor, valor. A single theme began to emerge. Katie saw these traits in Rainey. The things she wanted to see in her child, their child. Katie had obviously spent many hours searching donors and these were the files she had chosen for Rainey to see. Rainey read each profile thoroughly.
When finished, Rainey had a much better understanding of what Katie saw of value in her. Beyond their physical attributes, these men were intelligent, self-confident, trustworthy, and loyal. All were men of good character. The interviewers mentioned feeling comfortable and safe with them. Katie considered all that she could with the information she was given, and she did a lot of it with Rainey in mind.
Rainey shuffled through the pile of papers once more. Katie slammed the bedroom door around seven thirty. Rainey looked at the clock on the bookshelf; it read ”1:45 a.m.” She pulled out three sheets of paper, looked them over again, and then put the others back in the file folder. Carrying the papers with her down the hall, she tapped on the bedroom door lightly, and then slid them under the door. She waited.
When Katie opened the door she simply said, ”I'm tired and I don't want to fight anymore. Come to bed. It seems I can't sleep without you.”
Rainey followed Katie into the room, slipped out of her clothes, and crawled into bed. Katie spooned into her, pressing into her body. Rainey slid her arm around Katie and pulled her in tight.
She whispered, ”I'm sorry, Katie.”
”Shhh. We'll talk about it in the morning.”
Rainey closed her eyes more in love with Katie than she had been just hours ago. If she could only see the world like Katie did, the whole gla.s.s half-full thing, Rainey would enjoy life more. Katie, it seemed, could even see the good in Rainey.
Chapter seven.
Rainey awoke to the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing. Her arm shot to the empty side of the bed, even though she knew Katie wasn't there. That was another reason she was glad the doors were replaced. Before Katie, the slightest sound or movement could rouse her from a deep sleep. Now she slept so soundly she probably wouldn't hear an army marching through the room. As much as she a.s.sumed the role of protector in their relations.h.i.+p, it was Rainey that truly felt safer now. Katie gave her peace.
The clock said eight thirty. Rainey's head said too much bourbon. She crawled out of the Laura Ashley floral print sheets. She was still trying to get used to all the frilly stuff Katie had added to the decor. Rainey and her dad had been more the bland, solid color types. Katie was anything but bland. Rainey appreciated Katie's talents for decorating, but right now the flowers were swimming, causing her stomach to roll over.
She was seated on the toilet, head in hands, when she heard the top on a c.o.ke can pop open and fizzle. Rainey raised her head to see Katie standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She held the red can with its familiar logo out for Rainey.
”Thought you might need this. I saw the evidence of foul play on the coffee table. I do believe this is the standard southern cure for over indulgence.”
Rainey said nothing. She took the c.o.ke from Katie and downed it without stopping. She could feel the sugary cold liquid as it made its way through her body. Rainey hadn't really had much to drink since she met Katie. They drank wine with dinner or had an occasional beer, but liquor as a sleeping remedy or stress reliever had gone by the way side. She was getting too old for this. The alcohol took so much more out of her now than it did when she was younger. Back then, she could hold her own with most anybody and pop back up the next day unfazed. This morning she felt like s.h.i.+t. Knowing she had to finish the conversation from the night before with Katie did nothing to improve her condition.
Katie was her perky self, as usual. She was already showered and dressed, looking unaffected by their late night. She took the empty can from Rainey's hand and said, ”Take a quick shower. It'll help. Breakfast is almost ready.”
”Katie, I...” Rainey stammered.
”Honey, right now you are hung-over, naked, and sitting on a toilet. You're quite defenseless. It just wouldn't be fair.”
”Are you still mad?” Even Rainey thought she sounded like a scolded child.