Caeli Widger - Mother of Invention

Tessa would handle Luke. Of this she was completely sure. Exactly how , she had not figured out yet.

Tessa saw that baby Daniel had fallen back to sleep in Viv’s arms, his fist balled into a tiny lump. Viv eased Daniel down into his plexiglass-sided bassinet with great care and wheeled him over to Gwen’s bedside.

“You’re a godsend, Vivian,” said Gwen. “You’re so good with them.”

“They’re good babies,” said Viv.

“Dinner is here!” trilled a bright voice from the doorway, and Tessa turned to see Mindy, a chipper young staff nurse, standing behind a rolling cart with several covered dishes atop it.

“Thank God,” said Gwen. “I’m starving.”

“We’ll leave you to it,” said Tessa, rising from her rocker.

“Bye, my sweets,” Viv said to the babies. “See you later, Gwen.”

Exiting Gwen’s room, Tessa and Viv walked in step toward the footbridge. Viv’s limp seemed to be diminishing, Tessa thought, but it was hard to tell.

“Would it really be okay if I stayed here and helped during Bonding?” said Viv. “I’ll do anything the Cohort needs. Diapers, baths, laundry…”

Tessa laughed. “We have staff for that.”

“Then wherever I’m needed. Surely another set of hands can’t hurt with four newborns around.”

Tessa paused, thinking. “We’d need to discuss the terms. I’d want you to keep seeing the doctors here, to monitor your own situation.”

“Fine,” said Viv. “Although I feel good . My leg hurts less every day. The new wrinkles aren’t showing up as much.”

“Still. You’d need to consent to daily checkups with Dr. Gupta.”

“I like Dr. Gupta.”

“And still no internet connectivity,” Tessa continued. “It’s not personal, just general security policy for guests. Not until you’ve left the Center permanently.”

“How would I? I don’t have a device.”

“It’s not so much a matter of capability. It’s whether you’re okay with being cut off from the world like that.”

“The internet isn’t the world,” said Viv. Tessa thought she detected an ironic note in her voice. “It can wait.”

“It’s a deal, then,” said Tessa. “You can stay here for a few more weeks. Until Bonding ends.”

Viv exhaled a sigh of relief. “Tessa. Thank you.”

They exited a long hallway and followed the inner periphery of East Lobe, which offered a view of the Thought Floor below. Friday evening was the quietest time of the week at the Center; most employees were gone by seven. Tessa counted just five lingering staffers.

Overhead, the mossy hue of evening dimmed the massive skylights; the sun had set and the fog blown in. Soon the domes’ Kevlar caps would close for the night. As they walked, their elbows inches apart, Tessa stole a look at Viv. Her profile revealed details Tessa hadn’t noticed earlier in the day: liverish spots above her jawline. Loose, crinkled flesh where the underside of Viv’s chin met her neck. Were those new developments, or had Tessa just missed them? She’d been distracted in the past few days, after all, by the presence of Gwen’s babies.

She was fairly certain they were new. She looked straight ahead again as they approached Tessa’s office in West Lobe.

“You can have my room,” said Tessa. “It’s much bigger and nicer than the one you’re in now. I’m leaving the Center the day after tomorrow, as soon as my husband, Peter, arrives. Then it’s all yours.”

“Why aren’t you staying? You’ve been here for the Cohort’s pregnancies. Don’t you want to stay and see how Bonding unfolds?”

“I… do,” said Tessa. “But Peter and I have been apart for ten weeks. We need some time.”

“How romantic,” said Viv, as they reached the door to Tessa’s office.

Tessa presented her palm to Zeus. The door swung open, but the automated lighting system did not activate. Her office stayed dark.

“The lights are glitchy after-hours sometimes,” said Tessa. “Let me turn them on.”

She stepped into the dim, silent office to find Peter sitting at her desk.

2021

Night had settled over the Center. Above the ocean, moonlight struggled through the fog. Tessa took Peter’s hand and led him on the footpath toward a bench on the western edge of the Center’s grounds, a favorite spot of hers. They walked in silence, a damp, saline breeze on their faces. Peter was leaner than he’d been ten weeks ago, and harder-looking, his jawline sharper, as if his hike through the wilderness had stripped him to his essence. Even his hand felt different around her own: cooler, less assertive. She’d always loved the way he held her hand, with a certain confidence, underpinned by pride. It felt more tentative now, as if he were doing her a favor.

Tessa tried to keep her nerves in check, though she was disoriented from the surprise of seeing him forty-eight hours early. After the shock of his presence in her office abated, she’d been infused with happiness, until she’d stepped into his arms, and he’d whispered into her ear, Sorry to show up unannounced like this. But I needed to talk to you. It couldn’t wait. Viv had taken the cue and quickly excused herself. Alone in her overlarge office with Peter, Tessa felt abruptly unsteady, as if she were seasick, in desperate need of air, and suggested a walk.

They arrived at the bench, just off the footpath hugging the bluffs, a half dozen feet from where the land dropped off to the sea thirty feet below. The waves roiled and crashed, invisible in the darkness.

“Talk to me, Peter,” said Tessa. “I’m ready to listen.” She could feel her pulse rabbiting in her neck.

Peter inhaled, as if preparing. “Remember Python?”

Oh. Relief coursed through Tessa. This was just about the dog.

“Remember him? What do you mean, honey? How would I forget our dog?”

Peter turned to her on the bench and crossed an ankle at his knee. “You didn’t ask about him once.”

“About Python?”

“Right. We talked a half dozen times, and you never mentioned him.”

“I… I.” She suppressed the urge to laugh. “I’m sorry. I’ve been totally occupied with the Trial. You know that.”

“Of course,” he said. “The Trial.” Was she imagining bitterness in his voice?

She swallowed and tried again. “But that’s no excuse. You’re absolutely right. I should have—”

“He’s dead, Tessa.”

“What?”

“He’s gone. Bitten by a rattlesnake on the trail. We did everything we could, but we just didn’t have access to antivenom quickly enough. It was… it was…” His voice wobbled and Tessa put her hand on his leg. “Pretty awful.”

“Jesus, Peter. When did this happen?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks? And you’re just telling me now?” She was incredulous.

Peter was quiet for a moment.

“I thought it would be disruptive. We were hardly able to find any time to talk anyway.”

“You don’t withhold this sort of news.” Tessa’s disorientation took hold again, this time blended with fresh sadness, though it sprang more from Peter’s delay than from losing Python. Which made her feel even worse.

“I don’t want to hurt you by saying this, but I honestly didn’t think you’d care that much.”

“Python was mine first,” she reminded him.

“I know,” said Peter. “But after a time, he was really only mine, wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. She moved her arm from his leg to over his shoulder. He did not move. “I’m so sorry, Peter. I know this must be so painful for you. We’ll get another dog.”

“Python isn’t really what I wanted to talk to you about.”