The Birthing House

Her flirting confidence had gone sour. 'What's not a good time?'

'Now, before she comes back.' His hands trembled and Nadia's eyebrows formed a V as she leaned against the door. 'All this stuff is happening now. You can't leave.'

'But I am leaving. And why do you care?'

'It's about making things right. At home.'

'You don't even know me. Just because my parents hired you, I don't owe you shit.'

He was glad she asked because he was tired of waiting to say it out loud. 'I think you know. What's going on there.'

'Where?'

'My house. Whatever is in there . . . doesn't want you to leave.' A bolt of pain launched back from his left eyeball and sat there at the base of his skull, pulsing.

'Your house? What are you--'

'I need your help. Maybe together we can figure it out.'

'Figure what out?'

'History. The stuff with the house. If you help me, we could really do something about it.'

She forced a laugh. 'You're out of your mind, dude. I'm going to Seattle.'

He thought it over. 'No, that's not the story.'

Nadia put her hand on the door handle.

'Don't,' he said. 'Please. If you really want to leave, I'll take you to the airport. But think about it.'

'Think about what?'

'Nadia. Tell me the truth. Where were you when you got pregnant?'

She stared at him.

'Were you in my house?' He knew he sounded deranged, but he had to know. 'Like that day I bumped into you before we moved in? What were you doing in there?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Yes, you do.' He was staring at her pregnant belly.

'What makes you think it had anything to do with the house?'

'You saw the snakes. Those eggs. That wasn't an accident.'

'Oh my God, don't do this. Don't. What are you - no, don't even. I need to leave.'

'You grew up next door.' Her eyes were starting to well up. 'You're not afraid of me. You're afraid of the house, aren't you? Afraid of what's inside.'

Nadia started shaking. 'Fuck this.' She grabbed the door handle.

Conrad grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back. 'How many times did you babysit for the Laskis? Did Leon do something to you? Or did you see something in the house?'

Her lips moved but no words came out.

He softened his grip. 'Jesus, I knew it.'

'Was it Eddie, or Leon Laski? I can help--'

'I don't want your help!' Her voice hurt his ears.

'You want someone's help!' A fleck of spit landed on her neck. 'What the fuck is in Seattle if not someone who's gonna help you? You can't run away, Nadia. It doesn't work.'

Nadia's fist sprang forward and knocked him in the forehead. His head bounced off the driver's side window in a clock-clock. She looked as surprised as he felt.

'Ouch. That hurt, Nadia.' He laughed, reaching for her. 'Calm down.'

She cocked her fist again.

His hand went up. 'Wait, not again, Christ!' She relented. He wiped his eyes. 'How much money do you have on you?'

'Three-fifty.'

'That's not going to get you to Seattle. And if it does, you'll be broke by the time you leave the airport.'

'I told you, I have friends.'

'Oh, did you meet them on MySpace? Are they going to let you sleep on the futon?'

'Drive the car,' she said.

'A thousand dollars.' It just popped out. He hadn't even thought of it.

'You're sick, you know that?'

'I'll finish the chores your mom gave me. Before your folks get home, I'll pay you a thousand dollars. But you have to tell me your story.'

'What story?'

'Everything you know about what happened in the house. After that, you still want to go to Seattle, I'll give you a ride to the airport and I won't tell them anything. Deal?'

She was thinking about it. The money helped, but he didn't think it was all about the money.

'If Eddie finds out--'

'Right,' he said, starting the engine.

'Did you plan this?'

'No.'

'Is this what you did with that girl?'

'What? No. This has nothing to do with sex.'

'So you did have sex with her.'

'No. Nadia, for Christ's sake. I'm scared, okay? I don't know anybody here. My wife's gone. I don't know if she's ever coming back. I just need someone to sit there and tell me I'm not losing my mind. Haven't you ever needed some help like that? Just for a couple days?'

He could see that he had scored a minor point with that one.

'We're just going to talk, right?'

'Just talk.'

'I'm not going to fuck you for money.'

The fact that she could even summon the words in her state sent a nervous quiver running around his stomach. 'I know that, Nadia.'

The car made a U-turn over the grassy median and headed toward Black Earth.

19

Steve Bartholomew was watering his rose bushes and smoking a cigarette when they pulled up. The cigarette dangled like the hose, two limp extensions of the man: one trickling water, the other smoldering fire. Conrad waved obnoxiously.

'Morning, Steve!' See how routine this is?

Steve waved back, his hand slowing as Nadia got out of the car.

'Morning.' She waved without turning and headed toward her place.

Steve watched her for a few seconds and went back to his roses. The hose had one of those canisters attached to mix the blue powdered crystals with the water. Steve's roses were yellow and large.

'Nadia.' Conrad gestured toward his front door. 'Don't you want to meet Luther and Alice?'

'We're doing this now?'

'The sooner we're done, the sooner you can leave.'

She followed Conrad inside. He went to the kitchen while Nadia trailed behind, cooing at the dogs in the living room. The dogs fell in love with her, but they fell in love with everybody. Conrad poured two tall glasses of iced tea.

Nadia was standing next to the phone when it started ringing. 'Uhm, want me to get that?'

'Sure.' He hoped it was Jo. She could use a little wake-up, even if it cost him.

'Hello?' Nadia said, accepting a glass of iced tea. 'Yeah, he's here.'

He took the phone. 'Hello.'

'Let me guess,' his wife said. 'That's Nadia.'

'Yes, should I introduce you?'

'No.'

'Okay. How are you, Jo?'

'You haven't called.'

'I tried, but you weren't answering. Figured you didn't want to speak with me.'

'Is she standing right there?'

'Yes.'

'Do we have to talk in front of her?'

'I don't know, are we talking?'

She ignored the question. 'I've been ordering some stuff. Did you open them?'

'The boxes? No, not yet.'

'Can you put some stuff together, fix the house up?'

Nadia pointed the front door, mouthing should I go?

Conrad shook his head. 'What are you sending again?'

'Furniture, supplies. I want to use the guest room, the one closest to our bedroom. Oh, and rip up that hideous carpet. I want to strip the floors and refinish them.'

'In the guest room?' His headache had returned. A pair of Chinese table tennis champions in his skull, going for the gold.

'Yes, in the baby's room.'

'The one next to our bedroom?'

'Why, do you think it should go somewhere else?'

'What?'

'God, are you even listening to me? You sound bad, are you getting sick?'

'No, I'm not, I'm fine.'

'Which one?'

'I'm fine. That's fine. We'll get some walkie-talkies so we can hear her from our bedroom.'

She paused, then spoke with a kindness he hadn't heard in weeks. 'What makes you think it's going to be a girl?'

The house. The house gave it to me, Jo. Don't you see? This is the house's project, not ours. We're just the vessels doing the meat work.