Page 6 of Paranoia

That made his smile grow.

CHAPTER 9

THE DRIVE TO Mount Sinai was as terrifying as anything I’d ever faced. Even in my life as a cop. I gripped the wheel of my Chevy Impala tightly so my hands wouldn’t shake. Saturday evening traffic was somehow manageable. But I still didn’t feel like I was driving fast enough.

Mary Catherine had come into semiconsciousness as we rode down in the elevator. She’d wanted to walk, but I’d insisted on carrying her to the parking garage across the street. Images of Mary Catherine with a baby and a smile on her beautiful face gave me near superhuman stamina as I’d raced to the car with her in my arms. The panic I felt affected my judgment. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would’ve called for her to be transported in an ambulance. Then again, I would’ve paced the rug down to threads if we’d had to wait for an ambulance to arrive. Who knew howlong that would’ve taken on a Saturday night. It was pointless to wonder about that now.

Once at Mount Sinai, I felt nothing but frustration. Despite making world-class time to get here, we were then shoved into an exam room and told to wait. A young man in scrubs took some blood and tried to soothe our anxiety by saying someone would be along shortly. Finally, a technician took Mary Catherine for some scans, but half an hour later we were back in the same room, still alone and scared.

Mary Catherine lay sprawled on a narrow examination bed, above the sheets and coarse blanket. I held her hand as she put on a brave face, turning to me and asking, “Michael, what if this isn’t meant to be? What if the baby doesn’t make it?”

“Let’s see what the doctor has to say.” It was lame but all I could think of.

“But what …” Mary Catherine started to sob. A truck plowing through the window couldn’t have hit me any harder. I felt helpless. One of the worst feelings in the world; one of the reasons I became a cop. Iwantedto help people. Now I couldn’t even help my wife.

I was worried about the baby, but I was more worried about if Mary Catherine was in any kind of danger. At least I was smart enough not to blurt out my concerns. Of course, the whole episode also made me think of my late wife, Maeve. The early days of her cancer diagnosis, the fear, the anger, the feelings of unfairness.Why us?I was reliving every one of those agonizing minutes as we waited for a doctor to walk through the door and deliver news. I had to take a breath.

Mary Catherine clutched my hand, and I pulled hers to mylips and kissed it. I said in a soft voice, “I love you. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.”

“I love you too, Michael.” She let out a couple of sobs and managed to add, “I already love this baby, whoever he or she is. I don’t care if it’s Seamus Bennett or Rose Bennett.”

“I’m not sure what’s more surprising,” I said. “That you’ve already come up with baby names or that you’d want to name a boy after my grandfather.”

“You don’t agree?”

“No, I love it. It’s just unexpected.” I kissed her hand again. “Where did Rose come from?”

She had a hint of a smile as she admitted,“Titanic.”

That made me smile too. That was all I needed. A moment of relief. A step away from worry.

A young doctor stepped into the room.

I heard Mary Catherine’s intake of breath.

The doctor did not have a smile on her face.

CHAPTER 10

ROB TRILLING GRABBED the mail from his box.

“Did you save this city again today, Rob?” his super asked.

Trilling smiled at the comment. “Wasn’t able to do much today, George.”

“I saw your girl today. That one, she don’t say much, does she?”

Rob shook his head as he walked away. “Mostly a language barrier,” he mumbled. He trudged up the stairs, feeling the stress of the day and wanting nothing more than to lounge on the couch and watch TV. Provided his roommates accommodated his wish.

Rob looked both ways down the hallway before he opened his front door quickly and slipped into his apartment. He heard the TV on low. When he stepped all the way into the room, he saw it was a rerun ofSesame Street. The kids’ show had done wonders for his roommates’ English skills in a very short span of time. All five of them.

George Kazanjian assumed Rob had a girlfriend living with him. But luckily, the super didn’t pay very close attention to who came and went from his apartment. For the last month, Rob had actually been living with five Pakistani women, all of whom he’d rescued from a Bronx warehouse where they’d been trafficked to work in a heroin processing operation, and whom he was now sponsoring to keep them from being housed in an immigration holding facility.

It was true that all five women had relatively similar features. Enough to confuse his super, he guessed. George seemed not to notice their physical differences, other than perhaps hairstyles or different outfits. Rob didn’t know what kind of trouble he’d be in if his super figured out there were six people staying in the apartment, but he and his roommates knew to keep as quiet as possible.

After exchanging several hellos and hi’s with the women, Rob stepped into his small bedroom, closed the door behind him, and changed into some casual clothes. The women respected the privacy of his bedroom. No one else came in, and they rarely even bothered him when he was inside.

Rob sat on the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. Sometimes everything seemed to catch up with him at once. Coming to New York had been a big move after his stint in the Army. It was nothing like Bozeman, Montana, where he grew up. He tried to get a handle on his emotions and finally realized he was mainly lonely. How could someone with five roommates living in a small apartment in Queens possibly be lonely?

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