Chapter 5

“But, I think unit one is vacant; didn’t Missy…” Esme said.

“Mercedes. Her name is Mercedes; why do you always call her ‘Missy?'” Kaja asked.

“You sure?” Esme asked. “Anyway, she moved out…”

Abigail, and Kaja and Esme would have been better served had they just told Abigail to take the couch in the living room. She ate breakfast every morning with Kaja and Esme; why not? She was already there, in their apartment when they woke up. She ate supper with them every night. Then the three sat at the dining table and quietly did their homework. Then she would ask if she could just sleep on their couch; she hated being in the downstairs apartment all by herself.

She took to driving Kaja’s Odyssey; since Kaja and Esme had the same classes it didn’t make sense for them to drive two different vehicles. And, when Kaja and Esme visited the Fletcher mansion, Abigail sat in the rear seat, listening to Kaja and Esme playfully bicker back and forth.

“I swear! You two sound like an old married couple,” she laughed once.

Twisting in her seat, Kaja dangled her engagement ring and new wedding band, a gift from Marta. The laughter died in Abigail’s throat. Blushing hotly, she mumbled an apology.

“We ARE an old married couple,” Esme smiled.

Six weeks after rescuing Abigail, Esme and Kaja were happily declaring the end of the semester. Esme brought the sunny-side eggs on whole wheat toast to her mouth.

“Last exam today and then…” Esme whooped, then lost all color.

She did not vomit, but could not eat the breakfast. Immediately after they walked out of the final exam, Esme declared she was light-headed from hunger so Kaja drove to the nearest Newhart’s Restaurant.

“Damn, Ess,” Kaja teased as Esme ordered two egg, sausage and cheese biscuits, a cinnamon bun, and a large orange juice.

Returning to the apartment complex, they saw Lyndon Boucher savagely kicking Kaja’s Odyssey. Esme called911 while Kaja called Abigail’s cell phone.

“I called nine one one,” Abigail sobbed when she answered the phone.

“Where are you?” Kaja asked.

“I’m upstairs. I, I’m in your apartment,” Abigail sobbed. “I didn’t see him. I didn’t know he’d followed me until he was banging on the door then I ran out the back and up the back stairs.”

The name Neige had more pull than Sullivan. Kaja winced as Lyndon’s heavy boot managed to break the driver’s side window. Just as he reared back to deliver another punishing blow to the car, two police cruisers screamed to a stop.

At that moment, Lyndon turned and saw Esme and Kaja Neige sitting in their car, watching him. Even in his meth-addled brain, he recognized the two women and charged their car.

“Oh I’m going beat his ass for that!” Esme screamed when he kicked Kaja’s door.

“Ess! No,” Kaja loudly protested. “The cops are right there; let them handle it.”

It took being hit with a Taser for Lyndon to cease and desist. Abigail came outside and spoke with the officers. Lyndon’s screamed threats from the rear seat of the cruiser did not help him.

“Well, can I do it now?” Esme demanded of Kaja.

“Yes, yes, go ahead,” Kaja said, shaking her head at Esme’s triumphant smirk.

“Do what?” Abigail asked as the tow truck took the Odyssey to the repair shop.

“She’s been dying to get you over to Holmes and Chandler,” Kaja said as Esme trotted up the front stairs to the upstairs apartment.

“Kaja, Esme! I, I can’t afford… Are you out of your mind?” Abigail protested, racing after Esme.

“But, Lyndon, he, he won’t be able to get on campus,” Esme whined as Abigail absolutely forbade Esme from enrolling her in the prestigious university.

The next morning, Esme was again unable to eat breakfast. Abigail’s three semesters of nursing school kicked in and she fussed over Esme, asking pertinent questions.

“So, is she dying?” Kaja asked, taking a sip of coffee.

Esme was notorious for exaggerations; a headache was a brain tumor in Esme’s mind. A cold was amplified until Esme was nearly comatose; her over-indulgence of alcohol laden cough syrup aided that condition. A simple cut was an amputation of limb.

“No, but she might want to,” Abigail smirked. “Your wife is pregnant and I’m pretty sure you’re not the father.”

Abigail squealed and Esme groaned as Kaja sprayed coffee. The two spouses shared startled looks, then Kaja asked Abigail to list all of Esme’s symptoms. While Abigail went over the symptoms, Esme punched a number into her cell phone and waited.

“Doctor Martin please. This is Esme Neige,” Esme said into her cell phone. “Yes. Hi Dr. Martin; Esme. I need to make an appointment…”

“Two,” Kaja interrupted with a groan.

“What?” Esme demanded.

“Everything she just said,” Kaja pointed to their roommate.

“And for my wife,” Esme continued speaking to Dr. John Martin.

“Jesus, money talks,” Abigail said as Esme and Kaja hurried to get ready for their doctor’s appointment.

“Yeah, yeah it does,” Kaja agreed.

“What? You don’t just call your doctor and…” Esme asked, genuinely curious.

“Ess, most people don’t even HAVE a doctor,” Kaja informed her wife.

“Most people have to call a doctor’s office, then wait two or three weeks to even see the doctor,” Abigail agreed. “Let me go get ready.”

“Serious?” Esme asked even as she brushed her teeth.

Dr. Martin was a rotund man with an obvious comb over. Although it was unusual to have three young women in one examination room, he affably shrugged his shoulders and examined the two blondes. Absently, he did congratulate Esme on her recent nuptials and ordered bloodwork done.

“But, all of your symptoms? And yours? Pretty much points to pregnancy,” he smiled, then lost the smile. “But, Esme? Kaja? Unless it is necessary, unless your life is in jeopardy? I will not perform an abortion. I can recommend…”

“An ab, oh no! Oh no sir!” Kaja protested. “This, I, I’m having this baby.”

“Me too,” Esme stated firmly.

“Good!” Dr. Martin smiled.

“Hi Mom,” Esme said into her cell phone as they crowded into her car. “Doing anything for lunch? Veal cut… Oh yum! Can she make… Well, all of us.”

“She said she was just about to call us; she wants to talk to us,” Esme declared as she drove to the Fletcher home. “Lucia is doing her veal…”

“With the raisin salad?” Kaja asked.

“You, you told me you grew up in Ione,” Abigail accused from the rear seat.

“I did. Abigail, we drove right by my parents’ house the other day; I showed you,” Kaja protested.

“Well, you ask me? It’s like you been around money all your life,” Abigail said, her voice tight.

“Well, I haven’t. I grew up even poorer than you,” Kaja defended.

Marta did not wait for Charles to open the door. She greeted all three girls with hugs and kisses, then ordered them to wash their hands; lunch was already waiting.

“Esme, is your Mom on some kind of diet?” Abigail asked as they crowded into the half bath just off of the kitchen.

“Huh? No, I, I don’t think so,” Esme said, wiping her hands on a small hand towel.

They sat down to eat; Esme to Marta’s right and Kaja to Marta’s left. Abigail sat to Esme’s right.

“So, where’s Dad?” Esme asked.

“Hmm? Aloyse? He’s at a board meeting,” Marta said. “Of course, I did not know they had board meetings it Vixens’.”

Kaja caught the disapproving look on Marta’s face. She also caught the displeasure on Lucia’s face at the mention of the local Gentleman’s Club.

Kaja took a good hard look at Esme’s mother. Marta was impeccably dressed, hair perfect as always and ears, throat and fingers adorned with jewelry. Today she was wearing rubies, complimenting her brown hair and deep brown eyes very well.

But under the meticulously applied makeup, underneath the tailored casual clothing, Kaja could see that Marta’s flesh was thin on her face. She could see that the clothing was just a little loose.

“Oh! Oh man! This salad is to die for,” Abigail enthused.

“Thank you,” Lucia smiled at the praise. “Miss Kaja? More iced tea?”

After the meal, Marta pulled Esme into her small office. She apologized to Kaja and Abigail but she really wished to talk with her daughter, one on one.

“She doesn’t look good,” Abigail said as she and Kaja strolled the flower garden in the rear lawn.

“No. No she doesn’t,” Kaja quietly agreed.

“Kaja!” Esme screamed from the rear door of the home. “Kaja, please, please come here; I need you! Oh, oh God! Oh my God!”

Kaja and Abigail broke into a dead run. When Kaja thundered up the rear steps, Esme grabbed Kaja in a fierce grip, sobbing inconsolably.

It took several minutes, but finally, Kaja understood that Marta was dying; pancreatic cancer. At this stage, it had begun to affect other organs as well.

“So, what, what did Marta say when you told her about…” Kaja finally asked, patting Esme’s belly.

“I, oh, oh God, I didn’t even…” Esme gasped.

Physically and emotionally drained after divulging her diagnosis with her daughter, Marta had retired to her bedroom. This was the first time Kaja had ever seen the spacious suite. Marta smiled weakly from the pile of pillows and accepted Kaja’s hug.

“Mom, we, Ess and I, we’ve got something to tell you,” Kaja started, grabbing Esme’s hand.

“Oh?” Marta asked, regarding her daughter’s face carefully.

“We’re pregnant,” Esme said.

“Oh! Who? Which one of you?” Marta asked, perking up slightly.

“Both of us,” Kaja said.

“Oh! Oh how wonder…” Marta gasped, then immediately began to sob. “Oh! Oh no! I, and I won’t ever get to see my grandbabies!”

Aloyse returned home from wherever and absently greeted Abigail. She was curled up on a couch, the afternoon sun illuminating the book ‘Catcher in the Rye.’ He commented that it was one of his favorite books but did not linger to discuss the novel with the girl.

If Aloyse noticed the red rimmed eyes of his daughter and her ‘little friend’ when they sat to eat supper that evening, he made no comment. Kaja looked up as Lucia walked from kitchen to stairs with a tray for Marta. Immediately, Kaja got to her feet.

“I. I will take it to her,” Kaja insisted and Lucia relinquished the tray to Kaja.

Marta looked up, bemused when it was Kaja that carried the tray into the suite. She smiled as Kaja swung the arm of the rolling table across her lap. Then, with a gentle kiss to Marta’s forehead, Kaja fed the ailing woman.

“Kaja, Kaja Anne Neige, I, I can feed myself,” Marta protested.

“Let me,” Kaja softly said. “I’ve got a feeling I’m going to have to do this for Ess when she gets too pregnant to feed herself.”

“But, but you, you’re pregnant too, right?” Marta inquired.

“And you think that’s going make any difference to her?” Kaja smiled.

“I, I did raise a slightly spoiled girl, didn’t I?” Marta agreed.

That night, returning to their apartment, the three young women sat in the living room. For several long moments nothing was said. Finally Kaja regarded her wife, then their friend.

“Esme, Abigail, we need to move to Fletcher Mansion,” Kaja declared.

“What?” Esme asked, linking her fingers with Kaja’s fingers.

“And why’s it called Fletcher and not Neige?” Abigail wondered aloud, not arguing with Kaja’s declaration.

“Esme, Mom’s going need us to take care of her,” Kaja said. “Jesus, you really think your father’s going do it?”

“Not unless she moves her bed into Vixens,” Esme smiled tightly.

“My cousin danced there; place is nothing but a bunch of skanks,” Abigail declared.

“Your cousin is a skank?” Esme lightly teased Abigail.

“God! The biggest!” Abigail agreed. “Married this guy, was one of her biggest tippers then had a black baby. And get this, get this. Even though the baby’s black? Judge still orders Garrard to pay child support.”

“But Esme, we, we need to be there. I, I’ve already lost my other family,” Kaja said, bottom lip quivering. “I don’t want to lose my Mom too.”

“Okay,” Esme agreed, softly kissing Kaja.

It truly did seem that Marta had been holding on only long enough to share her diagnosis with her only child. The weight loss, the fatigue, and the agonizing pain were almost immediate.

Kaja and Abigail became Marta’s primary caregivers. Marta had nurses that were paid to care for her, but Kaja and Abigail were the ones that bathed the woman, fed the woman; when she would eat. Kaja even changed Marta’s diapers, all with a smile and soft words.

“You need to go to school,” Marta ordered Kaja on August first. “Kaja, you need to get enrolled, go to school.”

“Taking care of you is more important,” Kaja said.

“Where, where is my daughter?” Marta demanded in a rare fit of anger.

Esme looked up from her game when Kaja stormed into their suite. She put the cell phone down and looked at Kaja’s hard face.

“That is your mother,” Kaja snapped, pointing in the direction of Marta’s room.

“I, Kaja, I just, God! It, it just kills me to see…” Esme attempted to justify her reluctance to go into her mother’s room.