Mark of the Wiseman (The Wiseman Series Book 1) Read online

  MARK OF THE

  WISEMAN

  R. CARESSE

  HIGHTOWER

  Wasteland Press

  www.wastelandpress.net

  Shelbyville, KY USA

  Mark of the Wiseman

  by R. Caresse Hightower

  Copyright © 2013 R. Caresse Hightower

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  First Printing – November 2013

  ISBN: 978-1-60047-924-3

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2013953757

  NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM, BY PHOTOCOPYING OR BY ANY ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL MEANS, INCLUDING INFORMATION STORAGE OR RETRIEVAL SYSTEMS, WITHOUT PERMISSION IN WRITING FROM THE COPYRIGHT OWNER/AUTHOR

  Printed in the U.S.A.

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Mom and Dad

  The Prose

  Colleen Lanier

  Teri Gibson

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I’m afraid I can’t find a heartbeat,” the ultrasound technician said.

  William Wiseman studied the look on the technician’s face as she laid down the transducer probe.

  “If you’ll give me just a minute, I’ll get Dr. Mills.”

  The technician gave William and his wife an apologetic smile and excused herself. William’s wife, Eve, turned her gaze away from the display where the image of their baby had just been and pulled her hand out of his.

  “Evie,” William said, “maybe she made a mistake.”

  Eve shook her head and stared at the wall in front of her. William reached out to reclaim her hand, but she clenched both of hers into tight fists. Dr. Mills gave a cursory knock before entering the room.

  “Good morning,” he said, picking up the probe. “Let’s see what we have here.”

  William studied Eve’s abdomen, slick with gel, and tried to will the whoosh-whoosh sound of a fetal heartbeat to emanate from the monitor speakers. Come on, come on.

  Dr. Mills laid down the probe. “I’m so sorry, Eve.”

  Eve nodded, but did not look at him. He handed her a towelette and she wiped at her stomach, absently, staring into space. William took the cloth from her and removed the gel she missed, then pulled her shirt down to cover the exposed skin.

  “I did everything you told me to do,” Eve said. A tear slid down her cheek and made a dark blotch on her shirt. “I rested and ate what I was supposed to. I took my prenatal vitamins. You know I don’t smoke or drink alcohol. You said my blood work looked good. What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Dr. Mills said. “You did everything right.”

  “Then why does this keep happening?”

  Dr. Mills shook his head. “I wish I could tell you, but the truth is I don’t know. There are a small number of cases in which healthy women simply cannot carry a baby to term. I know you want a reason, but unfortunately, we just don’t have one.”

  William placed his arm around Eve. Her posture was as rigid as a wooden board. He rubbed her arms and back, but she didn’t relax.

  “At this point we can go ahead and do a D&C like we did last time,” Dr. Mills said.

  Eve looked at him.

  “Or,” Dr. Mills continued, “you can go home and wait to miscarry naturally and then we’ll see if a D&C is necessary.”

  Dr. Mills offered a pamphlet and a folded piece of paper to Eve, but she did not take it. William accepted the papers instead.

  “That has a list of support groups,” he said. “I know you’ve refused them in the past, but I really think they could help you, Eve.”

  William turned to his wife. “Evie, do you want to go home?”

  She nodded.

  William offered his hand to Dr. Mills. “Thank you.”

  Dr. Mills shook his hand. “I am very sorry for your loss. I’ll have the receptionist schedule a follow-up appointment.”

  “Of course,” William said.

  He picked up Eve’s purse and sweater and led her out to the parking lot. Instead of getting into the car, Eve leaned against him and sobbed.

  William tried to say something comforting, but couldn’t get any words around the painful lump in his throat. Why did she have to hurt like this? What had she ever done to deserve this punishment? He held his wife tightly until she quieted.

  Her breath was hot against his ear, her voice bleak, when she spoke. “You expect teenagers to rebel against you. That’s what they do… but a baby? Not one, but three, Will. It’s like they’d rather die than stay inside me another second.”

  William glared up at the overcast sky and tried to quell his irate thoughts against all the unfit mothers he’d seen having baby after baby, while his wife stayed home charting her ovulation cycle.

  “Evie, it’s a medical phenomenon. It’s not personal.”

  “It feels very personal.” She rested her head on his chest. “Why didn’t they want me to be their mother?”

  Her voice cracked on the last word. William was dumbstruck. He didn’t know at whom, or what, to be mad. Dr. Mills? God? Himself? It was all so frustrating not to be able to point to one person and say, “It’s him. It’s his fault.” It just wasn’t fair.

  William, at a loss for words that wouldn’t sound flimsy or idiotic, said nothing. He just held her tightly and buried his face in her hair.

  “Are you going to leave me?”

  He lifted his head. “What?”

  “I can’t give you any children,” Eve said. “My body is broken. It doesn’t work.”

  “Of course I won’t leave you. I’ll never leave you. I married you because I love you, not because I expected children.”

  “My sister has four sons. Four.”

  “I know, baby.”

  “Not one problem in any pregnancy.” She started to cry again.

  “It’s cold. Let’s get you in the car.” William kissed her and helped her inside. He pulled out of the parking lot slowly.

  This was getting worse. The first two miscarriages happened earlier in her pregnancies. After getting this far along without incident, Eve’s hopes had soared. Now she was being sent home to wait for the inevitable moment when the cramps doubled her over. At least before, the miscarriages crept up on her. This time, she was looking it squarely in the face. Every hour until it happened, she’d be on pins and needles; he knew she would be. She would eventually pass the lifeless form whom she loved with all her heart. The last time, William had found her staring at the blood in the toilet, her face frozen in pained horror.

  The memory still chilled him.

  They rode back to Bermuda Run with the radio off. He pulled into the private drive and they walked into the house from the garage.

  “I’m going upstairs,” Eve said. “Are you coming up?”

  “In a few minutes.”

  William went to the kitchen and found the housekeeper leaning over the dishwasher.

  “Agnes?”

  Agnes straightened up. “Good afternoon, Dr. Wiseman. Would you like lunch?” She uncovered a simmering pot on the stove, which filled the room with an herbaceous ar
oma. “Potato leek soup.”

  “I’ll have some, but I think Eve wants to sleep. Maybe you should ask her a little later.”

  Agnes ladled some soup into a bowl and pulled out a piece of garlic bread from the oven. “How did the visit go?”

  “She lost the baby.”

  Agnes placed the food on the table. “I’m sorry. She was so excited. I really thought…” She shook her head and moved the newspaper from the counter to the table. “There’s leftover veal from dinner, or I could make a salad if you want something lighter?”

  “The soup is enough. Thank you.”

  Agnes nodded and walked out. William ate slowly, unfolding the newspaper and leafing through the pages. He saw a familiar face.

  PATTON RELEASED FROM PRISON

  Dr. Penelope Patton, former director of Goode Planet Fund (GPF), arrived at her sister’s estate Thursday morning after a 36-month stay in a North Carolina prison for embezzling funds in 2009. GPF, a non-profit organization, supplied medical equipment to at-home patients suffering from financial hardships.

  Patton, 37, worked in the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology at Jonestown Women’s Clinic before she was asked to be the executive director of GPF.

  Patton was unavailable for immediate comment.

  William had once worked with Penelope on a cystic fibrosis gene therapy study. When it came out that she’d been stealing from the company, William couldn’t say he’d been shocked. Penelope had always been a rebel, skirting the institutional rules to get what she wanted, but she was brilliant.

  He looked at the black and white photo of her and smiled a little. She’d had some explicit, choice words for one reporter as she’d walked into court for her trial. William sort of admired her devil-may-care attitude. He wondered how she’d fared in prison.

  William wandered around the house. In his attempt to think about anything but Eve crying, that was all he could think about. It killed him to see her endure such torture. His inadequacy festered. There had to be something he could do.

  He remembered the first time he’d seen Eve in college. He’d gone on and on so much about “the girl in the library” that his friends teased him by saying he was obsessed. Little did they know how right they were. After that day, everything he did was for her. He soon became eagerly desperate for her approval.

  After the deaths of his parents, William inherited enough money to court Eve extensively with trips and jewelry. Beyond his own achievements, there was no end to his provisions for her. He catered to her every whim. Eve’s joy was his joy. Her disappointments, his disappointments. He knew he was sometimes excessive, but could not bring himself to stop. He smothered her, he knew he did, but she didn’t complain. If he asked her to stay home for no reason, even when she wanted to go out, she’d stay. He didn’t want her to work after they got married, so she quit her job.

  She was his. And he had to make her world perfect.

  He walked to the third floor and opened the door to the nursery suite. Ivory lace curtains dressed all three bay windows. Pastel-hued wall hangings of giraffes and turtles mocked him. A glider recliner sat in the center of the room with a pale yellow, satin-trimmed blanket draped neatly over an armrest. The matching empty cherry wood armoire, chest of drawers, and crib all sat quietly, awaiting a baby that might never come.

  Eve had avoided this room for almost two years and after this last visit to the fertility clinic, William doubted she would set foot in here again. He wondered if he should just move the baby things to the attic and remodel it into another guest room.

  A chiming melody started to play. William stared at the mobile hanging over the crib as it started a slow revolution. The battery must have been low because the song was distorted, unable to keep a regular cadence. He could recognize it though. Mary Had a Little Lamb.

  The carousel of cloth crescent moons dangled jerkily as the mobile’s battery finally died. To his knowledge, the last time it had been wound up was when Eve picked it out in the store.

  Thump.

  One of the moons fell onto the mattress. He picked it up and started to reattach it to the ribbon, but decided not to and pocketed it instead.

  He backed out of the room warily, reminding himself that he didn’t believe in ghosts or omens. Back in the master bedroom, he found Eve in her chaise lounge, wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito.

  “Cold?”

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Agnes made your favorite.”

  “I’ll eat later.”

  “Promise?”

  She looked at the television.

  “Evie, I don’t want to go through what we did last time. You were underweight.”

  “I’m just not hungry.”

  He sat on the edge of the chaise and gently twisted a finger around a lock of her ebony hair. “I still have the number to Baby Steps.”

  Eve pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t…”

  “Okay,” William said quickly. “We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

  His cell phone alarm chimed.

  “I need to go to work.” He kissed her. “Agnes will be up to check on you in a little while.”

  William parked on the campus of Biltmore University.

  The security guard waved from the front desk. “Morning, Dr. Wiseman.”

  “Hey, Kenny.”

  William took the stairs to the second floor and unlocked his office. Dr. Fai Chang walked down the hall.

  “Good morning, William.”

  “Hey, Fai.”

  Dr. Chang followed William into the office. “Did you get John’s message this morning?”

  “Haven’t checked my email yet.”

  “Our hemophilia paper was accepted.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?” Dr. Chang laughed. “How about great? Make sure to mention it in your interview next week.”

  William turned on his computer screen. “Interview?”

  “Your interview.” Dr. Chang frowned. “Wake Up With Winston?”

  “Right.”

  Dr. Chang leaned his tall, skeletal thin frame against the doorway. “Everything okay?”

  William took his keys out of his pocket and laid them on the desk. “No. Eve lost the baby.”

  Dr. Chang pointed to the floor. “What’s that?”

  William saw the moon he’d taken off the mobile. “Oh.” He picked it up. “Nothing.”

  “I’m sorry. Would you like me to cover anything for you?”

  William shook his head.

  “How’s Eve dealing with it?”

  “She’s resilient. She’ll be fine.”

  “Yes, but last time—”

  “Was bad. I know.”

  “Has she thought anymore about adoption?”

  William shook his head and sat down. “Have a seat, Fai.”

  Dr. Chang sat across from him. “Is surrogacy still off the table?”

  “She’s paranoid about someone else carrying our baby.”

  “Perhaps you need to rationalize with her. Women are ruled by their emotions.”

  “Her fears are valid, Fai. She loses a certain amount of control with surrogacy. She can’t follow someone around twenty-four hours a day, making sure she’s eating the right foods, taking vitamins, and avoiding secondhand smoke.” William stretched his legs under the desk. “I think she’s really concerned that the surrogate could take off.”

  “You have others.”

  William looked up. “What?”

  “Didn’t you freeze multiple embryos?”

  “Yes.”

  “If it doesn’t work out, you can try another surrogate.”

  “Fai, they’re our kids, you know?”

  “Kids? Kids scream and cry and crap.” Dr. Chang got up and examined William’s bookcase. “What you have are frozen aggregates of genetic material. DNA popsicles. You can make more.”

  “It’s like talking to a brick wall with you.”

  “What can I say? I am a scientist.�
��

  “You’re never going to get a wife talking like that.”

  “Who says I want one?” Dr. Chang checked the time. “Ivan has his defense in half an hour. Are you coming?”

  “Yeah. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Did you eat today?”

  Eve looked as if she hadn’t moved since William last saw her.

  “Not exactly.”

  William sighed and went to the kitchen to warm up a bowl of soup. Agnes had replaced the newspaper, still turned to the article on Penelope, back on the counter. William studied Penelope’s picture for a few moments before walking upstairs.

  “I don’t want it,” Eve said.

  “Sorry, but you aren’t going to sit here and waste away. Not while I’m here.” He sat next to her. “I’m surprised Agnes didn’t arm wrestle you into eating a five-course meal.”

  “She tried.”

  “I bet.” William blew on a spoonful of hot soup and held it next to her lips. “Please?”

  She reluctantly opened her mouth and ate a few spoonfuls.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m done.”

  William decided not to push too much. He put the bowl down.

  “I had a talk with Agnes while you were at work.”

  “What about?”

  “I was still pretty raw about the visit with Dr. Mills and I acted immaturely. I need to be an adult about this.”

  William sat up straighter. “Is that what Agnes said?”

  “Of course not. She was nothing but supportive.”

  “Supportive of what?”

  Eve touched her slightly distended belly. “The medication and the stress are taking their toll. My hair is starting to fall out. Some days, I have unbearable headaches… heart palpations.” She gave him a melancholy smile. “It’s time to stop this. I have so much to be thankful for. My friends, my family, you. We live in this gorgeous house and… perhaps wanting a child is being a little greedy.”

  “You deserve a baby just like anybody else.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me. Any child would be thrilled to have you as a mom.”