Vanna and I talked every day for the next couple of weeks. I really liked her. She was so excited and frightened the morning she could take the pregnancy test. Her mom was with her again. She waited for me to get off work and the three of us had dinner scheduled at her apartment. Everyone promised to have a good time whatever the results. I so hoped I would not have to see disappointment in her eyes.
Her mom and I both went with her to the bathroom to watch her pee on the little indicator. I took the plastic tube from her, so I would be the first to know. I don't think she breathed for the two minutes.
"You are pregnant Vanna."
She fell into my arms and her mother wrapped her arms around both of us while Vanna cried.
Marge and I sat down and shared a bottle of champagne while Vanna called her sisters. The practiced official story was: she had gone through artificial insemination, was now in debt, she was going to move in with her mother and sisters in the suburbs and everyone was helping financially. I had things I wanted to discuss. I wanted to help also and be a real father. I would not get a chance to talk tonight; Marge had her own agenda.
"Tom, we all have noticed how you hide and live like a hermit. If you came to live with us in the secure gated community for medical personnel, you would be safer and have more freedom. We could give you the identity of my dead nephew, he was marginally affected."
"Why Marge? Why would you do that? Why do you want a kept man?"
"I am not after a sex slave. Your life would be your own. Of course, I am hoping you will father children with my other daughters and maybe me. All your choice. We will not black mail you. We would never disclose your genetic secret to anyone unless you said it was all right. Maybe it's by default, but you are part of my family now."
My mind was spinning. I remember the stories my mother used to tell me from the Old Testament. Women had to have a husband to survive. Men would sometimes take responsibility for the wives and families of deceased brothers. Sometimes a man's wife would plead with him to take her widowed sisters, even her mother, as wives so they would not become beggars. Relatively poor men wound up with many wives that way. In a convoluted way this would happen to me, if I did as Marge asked. It was tempting. They were all beautiful, sexy and desirable.
"How could you afford what you are proposing?"
"It will not be easy but the reward of healthy children will be worth any sacrifice. My husband left insurance and the house is paid for. My income and what the girls earn while they live here will be enough for us to eat and live well enough. I think I can get most all of our medical free or discounted."
I had a lot to mull over. I had to decide how much to risk with Marge. There was something about her. Sure she was smart, educated and powerful at her work. But she seemed almost apologetic, deferring to me when we talked.
"Let's party tonight. Give me a few days and I'll ask Vanna to get in touch with you. We need at least one more meeting on this. If we do this, I have some items to discuss with you also."
In a week, I had decided. I did not want to recap tires and hide all my life. I could have a magnificent life; if only, I could be safe. I called Vanna.
"Vanna, please call your mom and have her come to dinner at your place, tomorrow. Ask her to bring your older sister, Addie."
"Are you going to take mom up on her offer?"
"Let's talk tomorrow night."
All the women were anxious to know my decision. "Marge, I would like to try what you have proposed. However, I want to contribute a little to our well being. We all have to trust one another. Addie, I need your help. I'll need you to take a few days off several times over the next few months. Your business background and demeanor are perfect for you to represent me on something. Will you do that for me."
"I'll have to know what it is. It can't be illegal or anything that would cost me my job."
"No, nothing like that. When my family was all killed, I inherited the family farm. It has been leased for years. All transactions go through coded and numbered accounts. I want you to be my representative in selling and closing on the property. If I go back, everyone knows about me and that I own the farm. I would never make it out. But you, with my Power of Attorney, could act for me and we could have the funds flow directly into established accounts."
Vanna asked, "How much is the farm worth."
"Enough to make things easier, my nosy little-mother-to-be."
She realized her question was out of bounds for now and started to apologize. Her face was flushed.
"It's all right Vanna. That is a logical question. I'll disclose more when the time comes. How about it, Addie? You have to promise to keep every element confidential until I tell you otherwise. Do we have a deal?"
"Sure, I have plenty of vacation time coming. Sounds like fun."
Over the next three months, behind the scenes, I played puppet master and directed Marge and three of her four daughters. Vanna had all the early tests. She was carrying a perfect boy. I had her go to her mom's house and never return home. Her youngest sister, Alice, became our moving director. For her first task she had to rent a truck and we loaded all Vanna's possessions, vacating her apartment. For her second task, she started arranging the same for me, a month away. Addie had listed my farm and we immediately had two interested parties -- the current lessee and a corporate farm co-op. Marge hung on my words, often staring at me. She would look down when I caught her. When I stood very close to her, she seemed to be small and fragile. Yet she was neither.
In the guise of a weekend painter, Marge got me into her secure community for the first time. I had to wear a locator, be escorted inside the door of her home and promise not to go outside without calling for an escort. Marge and I actually did work hard all day Saturday, moving furniture, making one of the bedrooms available for me, cleaning closets and sorting things out to give to Goodwill. The garage was hot, we were wet with sweat when I came upon a box of risqué female clothing and toys. I called her over. "Do the clothes fit you?"
