The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 41

Authors note: As promised from the first page, the chapter you will never forget. Those with a delicate constitution might wish to stop at the section at the christening.
You have been warned. (R).
See you next week for the concluding chapters.

"I'm coming," Denver's mother said in response to the sound of the doorbell. In her old apartment she used to reach the door in half a second. The new one was larger, so it took more time. She grabbed a wig from the stand near the door and placed it on her bare head. She checked herself in the mirror. Mom peered through the door's spy hole. Despite the dark designer sunglasses, she recognized the tall cheekbones and pouting lips. Rachel had her hair up, revealing her slender, graceful neck. Her hair was tucked into a blue pillbox hat designed to impress the voter group she had been addressing that morning.

Mom's mood shifted. "I told you I don't want to see you again," Mom said firmly through the door, "Go away."

"I understand why you don't want to see me, but I thought you might want to see her," Rachel replied, lifting the baby carriage into view.

The sound of a chain being unfastened echoed, and the door swung open. "Come in quickly," Mom said, waving and glancing around.

Rachel turned to Peter, the bodyguard standing behind her. "Get lost, dear," she said. Peter nodded. Since Peter's operation, he had maintained a respectful distance from Rachel. The rumors about Hunter kept Peter maintaining a civil atmosphere and his hands to himself. Rachel entered the apartment she had only seen online via the realtor's web pages.

The apartment had minimalist furnishings, muted tones, and modern artwork that Rachel had put up before Mom moved in. Apart from a few family photos and a picture of the Pope, Mom didn't have the time or money for more pictures. The open-concept layout seamlessly connecting the living room, dining area, and kitchen, maximizing the generous available space. Despite its smaller size, the apartment felt inviting and functional, showcasing furniture from Rachel's mother's old apartment. The kitchen was clean but other parts had been abandoned mid-work.

Rachel looked carefully at her mother's face. Her mother bore the visible marks of her battle with cancer, her strength and resilience evident in every line of her face. The toll of the treatment was evident in her pale complexion, yet her eyes held a determined glint that spoke of her unwavering spirit. Her hair, just starting to grow back after chemotherapy, framed her face in soft wisps, a testament to her journey toward recovery.

Mom looked down at the baby seat, her tone suspicious. "Who's is that?" she asked, her suspicion evident.

Rachel dropped the diaper bag from her shoulder while supporting the baby carriage with both hands. The weighty bag contained all the essentials for caring for Elizabeth: diapers, milk, wipes and more – quickly becoming as heavy as Elizabeth herself.

"This is my child Beth. She's Biologically mine," Rachel explained, lowering the baby so she could be seen.

Mom peered over the blanket to catch a glimpse of the small, pink, wrinkled flesh. She stared for a moment, silent, observing Elizabeth's movements.

"I understand you don't want to see me again," Rachel began, "But I'm not sure if that extends to her. So, Mom, this is your granddaughter. I've named her Elizabeth after her great-grandmother. Beth, meet your mom's... meet grandma."

Mom remained seated, her attention never wavering from the baby. Rachel took a seat as well, noticing that Mom had retained a lot of their old furniture from the previous apartment. The pieces looked worn and out of place in the new flat. Rachel perched herself on Grandpa's old sofa, its scent still reminiscent of him. Something in the landing must have stirred Beth, causing her to wake up.

"Is she real?" Mom inquired looking down.

Rachel suppressed a laugh. "If she's a machine, then I've been dealing with a lot of poop for no reason," she quipped, brushing back a loose blonde strand of hair.
Mom reached for the remote and turned off the daytime TV. The second round of chemotherapy had left her extremely fatigued in the afternoons. Staying awake was a struggle at times.

"I saw it on the news. I knew it was impossible. I thought it was just some stranger's kid, poor thing," Mom shared. "Can you give birth now?"

Rachel attempted to conceal her annoyance. She avoided pondering over her current status. "No, I can't give birth," she replied, altering her tone as she carefully lifted Beth out of the carry cot and car seat combination. "I couldn't believe it at first either. Douglas... he organized everything. He used a combination of my genetic material and mixed it with... I believe he found an egg donor who resembled me, though I'm not entirely sure. The process involved IVF and test tubes. A birth mother acted as a surrogate. I had doubts initially, but I went through with a DNA test. It's definitely my... Denver's... and yours..."

Rachel could see that Mom was taken aback by the synthetic nature of the conception. Mom's reaction was so strong that she almost crossed herself as if seeking protection from the devil.

Rachel lowered her gaze to the tiny bundle in her arms. Beth was so lightweight that it felt akin to holding air.

"Do you want to hold her?" Rachel offered, holding up the bundle.

Mom reached out and accepted the offered child, cradling her in her arms. As Mom held Beth, Rachel felt her nipples becoming wet. She was on an intense medication prescribed by Dr. Grant, causing her to experience mild lactation. Although it wasn't enough for Bethj, there was a small tube taped to Rachel's nipple, ready to be connected to a milk supply to increase her output. Rachel had been diligently breastfeeding Beth; Levant despised the sight, but Rachel couldn't bear the thought of anyone else touching her child. Initially, it had been hard to fathom that something so small and fragile could be alive. Sometimes Rachel found herself gazing at Beth while she slept, bending over her in a desperate search for signs of life. She had to restrain the urge to prod Beth to ensure she was still breathing.

"She looks like your grandpa, that nose," Mom's voice wavered as she gazed downward, "there's a photo of him as a baby, it's just like the one of Grandpa."

Rachel smiled, "Funny, I thought the exact same thing," she replied, settling back.

Ellie opened her tiny eyes, meeting her grandmother's gaze with curiosity.

"I've been reading every mothering book from here to New York. I'd recommend against it; some of them are overly sentimental. At this stage, she can only really focus on you. She doesn't do much. Feeds, sleeps, poops. Then feeds again. I thought there would be more to it, you know? But for some reason, I don't mind."

Mom looked up, saying, "She's waking up."

"You can hold her. I trust you. You've done this before," Rachel assured. She directed her attention to the baby. "Beth, this is your grandma, the sane one," she said softly.

Mom cooed over Beth for a moment. Beth yawned, her tiny mouth stretching wide.

"Look at that, she yawns just like your aunt," Mom chuckled.

"She seems remarkably alert, you know?" Rachel observed. "It's like she's absorbing everything and then seeing what's truly beneath the surface. I think she's already figured all of us out. Every lie, every deception – she seems to have it all figured out and forgiven us already."

Mom's smile widened, and she looked up. "You believe that?"

"I know it," Rachel acknowledged.

Ellie extended a tiny hand. Mom reached out with a withered finger. Rachel glanced at Mom. Her mother appeared much older and frailer than Rachel's memory of her. Time had etched its marks on Mom's features.

"I can bring her out occasionally, without me being around. Would you like that? I don't need to be with her," Rachel offered.

Mom passed Beth back to Rachel, who accepted her. "Why don't you want to be with her?" Mom inquired.

Rachel looked down at Beth and smiled, while Mom observed them. "I thought I was some sort of abomination."

Mom leaned back, realizing how this simple interaction had drained her. Her skin felt like a dishcloth wrung dry.

"Understand me. My dad had just passed away," Mom began. "And when you appeared, I... I didn't know what... how to... I didn't know. I hoped you'd call... but you didn't. I was so ill... I spent two weeks in the hospital. No phones allowed, they said. I couldn't let one of my sisters know while I was in the hospital. I had time to think. Then I understood what I had done, that I had lost you, and I knew I had to live with it."

Rachel sat for a moment, leaning back, with Beth lying on her chest. Beth had drifted back to sleep, skin against skin, heartbeats synchronized. Rachel contemplated saying, "You could have phoned," but then she realized she hadn't called either. She could have attempted to reach out herself, but she hadn't.

"Grandpa's death crush me as well," Rachel shared, making an effort not to disturb Beth as she spoke. "I'm sorry."

"God teaches us to find forgiveness in our hearts," Mom responded. "I'm sorry for what I said too. I couldn't comprehend what you had gone through. You mentioned you were coming back. Is she coming with you?"

Rachel took a deep breath. "Denver will return eventually. I'm officially Beth's mother. Levant is the legal father. If Denver shows up, he's essentially a legal stranger. I have to continue as Rachel for now. I'm trying to divorce Levant, but it's complicated. There was no prenuptial agreement, so there's a significant amount of money involved. The lawyers are in a frenzy. He could keep me tied up in court until Beth is ready for high school. And even then, the contract grants him custody of Beth. I won't allow that to happen. I'll do whatever it takes to protect Beth, no matter what. I'm sorry, Mom, but Denver is now a secondary concern." Rachel's eye welled up with a tear. Sharing this with someone felt like a relief. Putting her thoughts into words made it seem less insurmountable.

Mom raised her eyebrows and began, "Don't apologize." She continued, "You're doing your best for your daughter. You don't need to apologize for that. You never have to apologize for that."

The door began to rattle, and Rachel looked over in alarm. She reached into her handbag to retrieve her phone to summon the bodyguard. A familiar scratching sound followed, and Rachel's tension eased. Moments later, Butcher leapt through the gap and bounded up to Rachel.

"Butcher!" Rachel exclaimed, a smile lighting up her face. "Oh, how have you been?" She continued, her hand caressing him. "Have you been a good boy? Behaving well for Mom?"

Butcher frolicked and played, and for a fleeting moment, his actions mirrored those of a puppy.

"You okay, Mrs. Shores?" the dog walker inquired. "Butcher covered his usual distance today."

"Thank you Christen. I'm good. " Mom said.
The young woman dog walker Christen was of a medium build, radiating an aura of energy and perky confidence. Her face bore a warm smile, framed by tousled auburn hair that hinted at her active lifestyle. The wind had whipped a few strands out of place, adding a touch of natural charm to her appearance. Her brown eyes, expressive and kind, reflected her genuine affection for the dogs under her care.

Rachel looked down "I can't stay for long this time. I've got so much to tell you. I'm not sure Beth is the only daughter out there. She might have sisters."

"What are you talking about?" Mom said.

"They don't do IVF one at a time. They fertilize two or more eggs at once. Levant might have had one terminated."

Mom's eyes grew big. She definitely didn't approve of abortion.

"That's why you see so many non-fraternal twins in schools these days," Rachel added. "He might be hiding the other one with a foster family, as insurance."

"What kind of insurance?" Mom asked.

Rachel looked to the window.
"You don't want to know. Insurance for control over me. He's going to know if I suspect he's got another. I'm not going to leave him until I have some evidence or a link to her or him. Meanwhile, I think..." Rachel said, almost in tears.

"What?" Mom inquired.

Rachel took a deep breath. "Um, I've been talking to Dougla's sisters. I was making arrangements for his birthday. Anyway, I think their Mom made them both donate eggs. They were complaining about their mother making them undergo a medical operation and from their complaints and hints, it sounded like egg donations. They felt very aggrieved with me, so I think he is setting up a second pregnancy with the Levant's family as the partial parents. I think he might be using more of me to make another child. I'm not sure. They will still be half me. I can't let them... I can't let them grow up with him as their father. You don't know what he might make them do. I've got to hang in there long enough."

Rachel looked at her rolex watch. "Is that the time?" she said, picking up the groggy baby from her shoulder. "I'm skipping a Mother and Baby Yoga class to come here. It's going to be over soon."

Rachel began to put Beth into the travel cot, then started assembling the travel kit.

"When will I see you again?" Mom asked.

"Coming to you in secret is going to be difficult. We get followed all the time. Reporters might turn up. If they appear today, just say I came for grandpa's funeral and I was checking in on you. I could get you an invite to the christening."

"So many lies," Mom said. "How do you remember them all?"

"There's a secret to that," Rachel said still packing.

"What?"

"Lie to yourself first," Rachel said stopping and looking up.

Rachel walked to the other side of the room to the door, then an idea paused her.
"I was thinking if I sent you a bunch of rocks, could you come to my house and pretend to be my baby crystal healer? I would have to give you money for cover. You would have to fake that waving stones over people does them good, but then you could see Beth as much as you liked."

Rachel's friend Kate had supported her modeling career with some crystal healing as a side hustle. Rachel felt if Kate could do it, her mother could do it as well.

Mom looked over. "Would I see you?"

Rachel paused on the threshold. "Yes, if you want. I would like that very much. You don't know what it's been like without you. Look, keep your phone charged. Denver will try to phone you again. Bye."

Rachel habitually leaned forward and kissed her mother on the cheek.

Mom looked at Rachel in confusion. "What do I call you?"

Rachel opened the door to see Peter waiting for her.

Rachel smiled. It felt like she could breathe again. "I'm Rachel Price, pronouns she and her. For everything else, check my Wikipedia page. I'm listed under Bay poets, Bay WAGs, and Political wives. I'm sorry I've got to go."

Rachel bounced down the corridor, feeling like someone had just done three tons of liposuction on her.
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Christening

"Levant's Rule 34," Charlie once said, "was that timing was everything." Rachel discovered that during the surprise announcement of Levant's daughters birth had also released some other news. He had reversed laws about green energy for California. Twenty years of progress towards a greener economy had been undone overnight. Also buried was the court decision about Levant sexually molesting an intern. But the papers all came out at the same time. No one noticed - the headline was Rachel Levant had given birth in a surprise low-key pregnancy.

A few of the chattering classes wailed and gnashed their teeth at what had come out on the next pages about the wind turbines and complex reforms of the judicial system, but no one noticed. Levant's personal polling was high even as the economy began to nosedive. Rachel was left with the feeling that she was buried in sin for her part in it.

Levant had demanded Beth have a huge christening, an heir to the Levant fortune was a time for public celebration. Levant began to exploit the christening turning it into a huge media affair. There was going to be an elaborate lunch. He was using it to gather campaign donations. The rumour was he was getting ready to pick a political party and stand for president. The press called him 'the teflon governor' as nothing stuck. Rachel tried not to think about it as she knew it was the zeitgeist machine brainwashing his followers.

Levant was already pressuring Rachel to choose between the Nueva School or the Castilleja School for Beth. Apparently, they had a long waiting list. When Levant had promised the best schools for Denver's children, he hadn't been exaggerating. Rachel wasn't sure she wanted her child to be raised wrapped in the financial cotton wool, which left so many people she met living in a different dimension. These weren't bad people, she had decided, but their experiences just made them more entitled and less able to empathize with everyone else's problem's. She didn't want her daughter to be like that, another hollow person. If it happened, it would be the biggest wall between them that could be built.

Levant was also looking at boarding schools for when Beth got older, ones like St. Paul's School in Concord, New Hampshire, or Phillips Academy Andover in Massachusetts, so Beth could be closer to his grandmother later on. Apparently, Levant's sisters had gone to St. Paul's School. The idea of Beth ending up like Sophia and Isabella terrified Rachel. Somehow, she couldn't imagine Levant's mother not attempting to 'correct' Beth into her own twisted image and therefore extending her dark shadow for another generation. Levant was also complaining that Rachel spent to much of her time with Beth. What was the point of a nanny and do all the work your self he had asked.

'Because Beth keeps me sane' Rachel thought.

On the morning of the christening, Rachel was in an odd mood. Mimi had dressed in black. Rachel had said it was an odd color for a christening, but it turned out that while Rachel and Levant attended the christening, the staff were attending a funeral. When asked, Mimi said that one of the gardeners, named Bunny had been killed in a hit-and-run accident. The staff had been sad that such a lively life could be cut short so brutally. All the Asylum staff were attending the funeral. As they left, Rachel noticed the flowers had been placed at the spot where Bunny had died. She hadn't been killed on the main road but on the private stub inside the estate. Bunny probably recognized who did it, but the police had dropped the investigation. Rachel felt guilty for not going to the funeral and found herself out of phase with the celebration.

After the christening in Reverend Fitt's new super church, they had driven to the new Empress Hotel. Levant had decided the christening must happen at the opening of the freshly refurbished Empress Hotel. The zeitgeist machine was making him feel invulnerable, even untouchable Rachel felt. Family was sacrificed for politics and commerce under Levant's hand. The old Levant had more style and stank less of the perspiration of desperation.

With the extra space of the Empress hotel, the guest list had ballooned. One important person after another was added. During one live comedy show that Rachel watched, the line was 'He thinks he's important, but let's face it, it's not like he's got an invite to the governor's christening.' Reverend Fitts presided again. To get in; guards had to push back the protestors campaigning against the commission for public safety. The initial ceremony went well, but this was an opening act for the grand gala dinner. Rachel ended up at a long table on stage, looking out at a sea of mostly unfamiliar wealthy faces.

The crowd consisted of some personal invitations, while the rest were people contributing to Levant's campaign fund. The christening had turned into a spectacle. A sense of unease washed over Rachel as she observed Levant compromising his daughter's life for financial gain and contributions to his campaign.