Tease to Please Ch. 11

"Uhh, maybe."

"You looked so sad when you saw me. Like you really missed me. I... I just had to have you one last time, remember? We snuck away and hid in your car, hoping nobody would see... and I let you have your way with me?"

"God Sylvia, that was... that must have been..."

"It was 1990, Arty. Don't you remember? You had just bought that silly red car? The one that looked like a spaceship..."

"The 928."

"Yes, the Porsche... God we were both so young back then. What a silly waste that was. But for that one evening we enjoyed it, didn't we? Do you remember? We put seats waaay back..."

"I'd, I'd forgotten," Arthur stammered. "You were married. I was drunk. It wasn't our best moment."

"Well, I've never forgotten, Arty. Because you see... the thing is, Elise was born the following February."

Arthur's heart stopped. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His vision began to vibrate.

"That night," Sylvia continued in a whisper, "was in late May, so... "

"No."

"I never told you because I wasn't sure. I never wanted to be sure, actually. I simply couldn't face it, so I convinced myself she was Dan's. And she might be, but... I mean... her hair. Nobody on my side has auburn hair like that. Nor on Dan's. But..."

"N-n."

"Your mother... Didn't she?"

"No!!"

Arthur's fell to his knees on the carpet. His face melted, distorted by pain. Sylvia straightened up and stepped closer, genuine concern crossing her face for the first time all day.

"What-what Arty? What's wrong? It's why I sent Elise to you. I thought you should get to know each other, just in case it turns out to be true. I thought you'd be proud."

Arthur's hands squeezed both sides of his head like a vice. Intense, pounding fear reverberated through his body. Blood pressure began to hammer his brain. He felt as though a locomotive was crushing him in slow motion, severing his body into grotesque segments beneath immense steel wheels. The signature of guilt scrawled itself across his face.

"What's wrong Arthur? Don't you like her?"

Arthur squeezed harder, trying to prevent his skull from exploding.

"Sweetheart relax, you don't have to be a father if you don't want to be. She's already grown and she doesn't know... she doesn't have to know, ever Arty, if that's the way you want it... okay? I thought you would want to know, that's all."

When Arthur still did not recover from his knees, Sylvia grew impatient.

"Jeez Arthur, get ahold of yourself. Stand up... Be a man. It's not a death in the family... It's not like you've slept with her for God's sake!"

Arthur's spine kinked unnaturally leftward as if she had stabbed him. A Munch-ian scream escaped his lips.

"Dear God!" Sylvia cursed. "Did you?! Tell me you didn't! Tell me right now, Arty!"

It happened so fast that Arthur had no time to warn her. His features widened and then his vomit hit the floor and splattered all over her black pumps.

"Jesus Christ!" Sylvia screamed, backing away in horror. "What... kind of monster...?!"

Arthur grabbed the arm of his chair for support. His gut purged again. Finally he crawled through the muck and collapsed onto his wastebasket. He emptied the rest of his stomach into the plastic bag inside.

Sylvia kept staggering backward; one hand over her mouth, the other flapping violently to one side. She backed right off the edge of the dais and fell to the floor, landing on her butt.

Ten seconds later Arthur's retching was done. He looked up from his knees. His eyes were bloodshot. His beard was a mess. His face turned nearly purple as he stared at Sylvia.

"Get out of here!!" he bellowed. "Get the fuck OOUUTT!!"

His roar echoed loudly throughout the lab's concrete passageways. Elise and Doctor Yamamoto froze upstairs, each turning only their eyeballs toward the sound.

Sylvia scrambled to her feet and ran. She had never been so terrified in her entire life. When she tried to round the corner into the main hallway, her slime-covered shoes slipped out from under her and she crashed to the floor again. Her dress tore, but in no time she was back on her feet and running toward the exit.

Elise was on the move too. She ran to the top of the stairs and took them two at a time, sneakers slapping the concrete steps. Halfway down she caught sight of her mother sprinting by. The terror on her face turned Elise cold.

"Mom!" she called out. "What happened? Stop!"

Sylvia kept running until she crashed into the delivery doors at full speed, forcing them half open on impact. An alarm went off, triggering a security cam that displayed the unfolding events on a monitor in Doctor Yamamoto's office. The motorized doors tried to close, but Sylvia slipped through and was gone. Elise, running a dozen yards behind her, had to stop and allow the doors to close before she could re-open them properly using the button on the wall. By then her mother's purple rental car was halfway down the block.

Arthur staggered off his dais like a wounded bear. He crashed through the narrow connecting hallway to his apartment and locked himself in.

On unsteady legs, he weaved through his apartment knocking small things over. His hands were flailing. Eventually he stooped to drink water from the kitchen faucet and wash his face. Over and over.

Nothing helped.

He caught sight of the sofa bed where Elise had slept. He blundered past the kitchen table on his way to it, flipped it over and crashed the heavy piece into the built-ins below his television.

In a blind rage he then ran to his garage, grabbed the yard-long steel handle of his floor-jack and swung it wildly against the side of his neglected Porsche. The passenger side window exploded inward. A hole appeared in the car cover where the end of the jack-handle had punched through. Arthur then lifted the steel tube back behind his right shoulder and swung it again with all his might, this time aiming for the windshield. The heavy handle bounced free of his grip on impact and helicoptered backward, striking him behind the ear.

He collapsed to the floor in silence.

Elise was running again, this time toward Arthur's office. The scene she found there disturbed her. The stench of vomit was overpowering and Doctor Peters was nowhere to be found. She called for him and pounded on the apartment door. She heard something inside: a faint and unidentifiable crash. Then there was nothing. Only silence.

Elise beat her hands against the door over and over, calling Arthur's name. Finally she ran back upstairs, remembering that Doctor Yamamoto had a key.

After several minutes of hand-wringing and failed communication, the two of them were back outside the locked door. Doctor Yamamoto used his master key to open it.

Elise ran into the apartment. By the time Doctor Yamamoto was halfway across the living room, she had already searched the bedroom, both bathrooms and the larger closets.

"He's not here!" she yelled. "Where is he?"

Doctor Yamamoto shrugged. Then he pointed toward the back door that led to the garage.

They found Arthur lying on the floor. He was on his side in a vaguely fetal position beside the old 928. The red jack-handle lay next to him.

"Doctor Peters!" Elise cried out as she leapt down the three steps to the garage floor. She skidded to her knees beside him and lifted his head.

He was conscious and breathing. A tall goose-egg was rising from the side of his head.

"Say something! Are you okay" Elise pleaded.

Arthur shook his head slowly. "Go home, Elise. Just leave me here. Go home."

"No, I won't. What happened?"

Doctor Yamamoto took a knee beside Elise and gently began to palpate the circumference of Arthur's skull, assessing the damage.

Elise glanced worriedly between the two men. She saw blood appear on Doctor Yamamoto's fingers.

"Is he okay? Should I call 9-1-1?"

Both men shook their heads in unison. Working together they got Arthur into a seated position with his back against the covered Porsche.

"What happened?" Elise asked. "What did she do?"

"Just go. Leave me," Arthur whispered. His eyes stared blankly at the floor, unfocussed.

"No, I don't want to leave. I forgive you."

"Don't say that."

"But it's true!"

"You can't stay here."

"Why not? Look at me. I forgive you... Why won't you even look at me?"

Arthur lifted his eyes to her and said: "I don't deserve to be forgiven. We can't be together. Not ever."

Elise began to cry. Doctor Yamamoto stood up and left to retrieve some ice from the apartment's kitchen.

Arthur stayed quiet until his partner was out of the room. Then he confessed Sylvia's tale in a whisper, finishing with a miserable: "That's why."

Elise sat down on the floor beside him. She kept one hand on the injured side of his head.

"No," she said flatly. "That's bullshit. There's no way. But... she really cheated on my dad? With you? Right around then?"

"Yes. I mean, I was drunk but I do remember it. Never would have remembered the date, but she did. She said it was right around the time I bought this car, and that's right. She said she never had the nerve to find out but, she thinks I'm your dad."

"Nah-uh. I know my dad... and he IS my dad. Not you."

"But your hair... it's like my mom's was. She's right."

"No."

"I'm so sorry, Elise. I've done the most horrible thing anyone...the worst possible—"

"It's not true," Elise retorted, turning to look him squarely in the face. "Don't say that. This is just one of her weird fantasies; built-up over God knows how many years. It's bullshit, okay? I'm telling you... it's not real."

There was silence between them. Arthur was crying.

Doctor Yamamoto returned. He crouched and placed a makeshift ice pack against Arthur's ear, then lifted the big man's hand to it so he could hold it himself. He then started interrogating Arthur in Japanese.

To Elise's untrained ear, it seemed an imbalanced and somewhat unfair conversation. In the end however, Doctor Yamamoto squatted down in front of Arthur and spoke at length. He seemed to be relaying some sort of story, and when it was over he reached out and patted Arthur on the shoulder. It was the closest thing to affection Elise had ever seen him express.

"What was that all about?" Elise asked Arthur once they were back inside the apartment a few minutes later. The three of them had righted the sofa bed, but then Doctor Yamamoto had gone.

Arthur relayed his Japanese partner's suspicions, as embarrassing as they were to admit. There seemed to be no point in concealing anything from Elise now.

"He has a theory," Arthur began, leaning back against the sofa with the ice pack pressed to his skull. "And it's ludicrous, but anyway here it is: Apparently, when the whole thing with my divorce was going on, there was some talk among the Yamamoto's friends in Japan about the girl... the girl I slept with out there. Some of them claimed she was a prostitute."

Elise's eyebrows lifted in surprise and she sat down beside him.

"But she wasn't," Arthur continued. "At least, to me she wasn't. I never paid her anything, and she didn't ask me for it either. Doctor Yamamoto says his wife suspected I had been set-up; that someone paid the girl to seduce me. But, because there was no motive; I mean, nobody stole my laptop or anything on that trip... he felt unsure of it and let it go. He never told me. But now... and this is even crazier... now he thinks maybe it was your mom."

Elise sucked in a quick breath. "Shit, are you serious? I... I mean... is that even possible?"

"I don't know. It seems far-fetched. The only thing is... I never did learn exactly why my ex-wife found out. I mean, out of the blue three weeks after I got home from that trip she got an email from someone in Japan, telling her the whole story. I got home that night and walked into a total ambush; my marriage was already over. But... who in Japan would care? My ex-wife had never met anyone over there... and why would a stranger want to destroy my marriage? That's the part I've always wondered about."

"Unless it was their job, you mean? Like, unless they were hired to do exactly that."

"Yeah. Unless that."

"What the hell?" Elise whispered reflectively. "I dunno... I guess anything's possible."

"But, it still doesn't make sense. If she had done it in order to get back together with me, then why would she wait another three years before leaving Dan?"

A few seconds of silence passed before Elise answered: "'Becca. She wanted to wait until 'Becca was in college. She's my youngest sister. She's just finishing her first year."

"Jesus. I don't know, Elise. It all sounds crazy. I mean, when I knew your mom she was a little intense, but nothing like this. Not back then. I just... I don't think it's possible."

"Yeah. I dunno either, but... she has been really weird these past few years. And it's getting progressively worse. If she's convinced herself that you're my real father, which you're not by the way, then maybe she had some sort of fantasy that we'd all reunite in California... in some kind of sick soap-opera finale or something."

"We have to find out," Arthur stated flatly. "Not about your mom. I mean about us."

"You're not my dad. Trust me."

"I have to know... for sure."

"Fine. Okay... isn't there a test or something? Like they do on Jerry Springer?"

"Yeah... but I don't want to do it here. Not in California. The fewer discoverable records the better, 'cause if it's true I'm gonna have to do some serious damage-control. Otherwise I'll lose everything. I'm not going back to zero again. I can't."

Elise looked over at Arthur. There was a desperate intensity in his gaze.

"Don't worry," she said. "It's not true."

Three hours later they were speeding Eastbound on the I-80 freeway, bound for Reno, Nevada. The drive so far had been conducted almost entirely in silence. After all, what does one talk about with a lover who may have just turned out to be a first-order relative?

Elise had never spent so long in a car with someone who spoke so little. Even the radio was off. Only the steady whirr of the BMW's V8 and the thrum of the tires kept her eardrums occupied.

As the sun set behind them, they swooshed past Auburn and began the long ascent to Donner Pass. Arthur propped his elbow up on the edge of the door, tilted his head leftward to leaning against three fingertips and cleared his throat. The he said:

"The past... is never dead. It's not even past."

Elise turned and regarded him. One eyebrow lifted slightly on her face. "That's... Faulkner, isn't it?"

"God, I don't remember. Sounds about right. You must've paid more attention in college."

"Hardly. That was high school."

"Huh. Well, anyway. Whoever it was, it's true."

"I guess."

There was a long silence before Arthur muttered: "What a miserable species we are."

Elise stared at the road behind them in the side mirror. A 16-wheeler slid rearward in the lane to their right.

"Regardless of how this turns out," Arthur spoke up again a few minutes later. "I'll help you get an apartment. I know you don't want to go back home."

"Really?" Elise asked.

"Yeah. And you're gonna need a new job too. Our little idea about having you work at the lab is ridiculous. I'll help you find something else. Whatever you want to do."

"Well, um, thanks. I agree actually. I've been thinking I could maybe work for a yoga studio. I have all the credentials... it's what I've always wanted to do."

"Exactly. I'm sure we can find a place like that. They'd be lucky to have you... and who knows? If this patent deal goes the way I think it will, then... maybe someday, if you really like it, I could help you start your own studio."

"Serious?"

"Yeah. You'd be a good investment."

"Okay," Elise whispered, more than a little stunned.

"But your internship is over."

"Yeah. I know. And you know what? The happiest person to hear that will be Alex."

Arthur looked at her sideways, confused. "Why?"

"Well... You know how he said he dropped his bike and cut his cheek on the mirror or whatever?"

"Yeah?"

"Well... that's a big fat lie. I kicked his ass on Wednesday, or his face actually. That's how I broke my heel."

"You broke your shoe on his face?! How the hell...?"

"He deserved it. Let's just leave it at that."

"That fucking weasel! Tell me what happened!

"No, nothing."

"Ugh! I'm so sorry. At least, at least you're okay... and I'm glad you told me. Jesus, what a week."

It was well past dark when they arrived in Reno. They got separate rooms at a no-name economy hotel, checking in 30 minutes apart. They each paid with cash. Per Arthur's plan, they would use no plastic for any transactions nor visit any ATMs until they knew they were okay. He wanted no digital footprints, just in case.

Elise had called ahead and made an appointment early the following morning at a quickie-marriage licensing place that also did relationship testing. She used the cover story that she was adopted and looking for her real father. The lady behind the counter sampled each of their DNA with a cheek-swab and told them to come back in five hours for the results. They idled the day away at roadside diners, a grungy urban playground and sitting in Arthur's car. At the appointed time they returned to get their results. The lady handed Elise a sealed envelope.

Arthur was waiting outside in the parking lot, having instructed Elise not to open the results inside. He did not want the staff to see them react. He wanted to remain as forgettable as possible in their eyes.

When Elise climbed back in with the envelope, Arthur put the car in gear and pulled away. He drove two blocks to an empty parking lot. The sunshine was bright, but he would have been sweating in any case.

Elise handed the envelope to Arthur without smiling. She mumbled something about not worrying, but deep down she was nervous too.

They unfold the results together, each peering at the computer print-out.

"Thank God!" Arthur said.

"So, we're not?" Elise asked, still scanning the form-letter.

"No. Look here: 'Probability of parentage: zero!'"

Elise burst into tears and threw her arms around Arthur's shoulders. "Oh my God," she sobbed against his injured ear, "I'm so glad, I'm so glad, I'm so glad."

Arthur twisted toward her and gave her a half-hug back. It was all he could manage. His other arm was trapped between them.

"Yes," he whispered. "We're okay."

Elise lifted her head and began kissing him on the mouth. Arthur felt his body unwinding beneath the flurry of her kisses. Every muscle that been clenched tight throughout the past day slackened with sudden reprieve.

Eventually Elise stopped kissing him. She slid back into her own seat, flipped her luxuriant hair away over on shoulder and said with a grin: "Let's go somewhere."

"Yeah," Arthur answered, smiling for the first time all day.

"Back to the hotel?"

"You kidding? No! That place was a pigsty. Let's go somewhere nice. For like, a week."

"Seriously?" Elise asked, her face brightening with incredulous excitement.

"Yeah," Arthur stated, twisting the key to start his car. "I'm stealing you."

"Okay!"

"You ever been to Tahoe?"

"No!"

"Well good... then that's where we're going. Get out your phone and call the lab's main number. You'll get the machine. Tell them you quit and... we'll be back in, I dunno... a week? Just say I'm taking a vacation. With you."

"For real?"

"Yeah," Arthur grinned. "For real."

The BMW's tachometer wound smoothly toward redline in 2nd gear before he snapped off a crisp shift to 3rd. The car rushed onto a cambered highway onramp, curving Westward.

Elise laughed out loud.

The Sierras climbed across the windshield; clean and unstinting.

**

THE END