Marissa backed out of the garage and lowered the door. She shook her head in dismay at how far her relationship with Robert had fallen.
It only took fifteen minutes to drive to Wendy’s Victorian house. Gustave had clearly been waiting for her. He opened the door before she had a chance to ring the bell.
“I’m truly grateful for your coming out at this hour,” Gustave said. He took her coat.
“Glad to,” Marissa said.
“Where’s Wendy?”
“She’s upstairs in the bedroom. Top of the stairs, second door on the right. Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea?”
Marissa shook her head and climbed the stairs.
At the bedroom door, Marissa paused to listen. There were no sounds coming from within. She knocked lightly. When there was no answer, she called out Wendy’s name.
The door opened almost immediately.
“Marissa!” Wendy said with true surprise.
“What are you doing here?” She was dressed in a white terrycloth robe and bedroom slippers. Her eyes were still sunken and red, but otherwise she appeared better than she had in the courthouse that morning.
“Gustave said you weren’t taking any calls. He also said that he was worried about you. Really worried. He encouraged me to come over.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Wendy said.
“I’m not that bad off.
Sure I’m depressed, but part of it is I’m mad at him. He wants me to be thankful for what he calls the Women’s Clinic’s magnanimity.”
“Robert feels the same way,” Marissa said.
“I think it was a cover-up maneuver,” Wendy said.
“I agree!”
“What about your pregnancy test?” Wendy asked.
“Don’t ask,” Marissa said. She shook her head.
“How about something to drink?” Wendy difered.
“Coffee or tea? Or hell, since we’re not pregnant, how about a glass of wine?”
“That sounds wonderful,” Marissa admitted.
The two women descended to the kitchen. Gustave appeared but Wendy sent him away.
“He was really concerned,” Marissa said.
“Oh, let him suffer a bit,” Wendy said.
“This afternoon I was mad enough to have a go at him with one of those foot-long egg-retrieval needles. It would be good for him to get an idea of what I’ve been going through these last months.”
Wendy opened a bottle of expensive Chardonnay and led Marissa into the parlor.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be up for this,” Marissa said once they were settled, “but I brought over a journal article for you to read.”
“Just what I was hoping for,” Wendy said with sarcasm. She put her wineglass down on the coffee table, then took the reprint from Marissa. She glanced at the abstract.
While Wendy scanned the article, Marissa told her everything Dubchek had related.
“This is incredible,” Wendy admitted as she looked up from the paper.
“Brisbane, Australia! Do you know one of the things that makes Brisbane so interestine.”
Marissa shook her head.
“It’s the main gateway to one of the greatest natural wonders of the world.”
“Which is?”
“The Great Barrier Reef! A diver’s paradise.”
“No kidding?” Marissa said. Then she admitted, “It’s not something I know much about.”
“Well, it is one place in the world I’ve always wanted to visit,” Wendy said.
“Diving has been one of my passions. I started in California during my residency. I used to take all my vacations in Hawaii in order to dive. In fact, it’s how I met Gustave. Have you ever done any diving, Marissa?”
“A little. I took a scuba course in college and I’ve gone a few times to the Caribbean.”
“I love it,” Wendy said.
“Unfortunately I haven’t done it for some time.”
“What do you think of the paper?” Marissa asked, bringing the conversation back to the issue at hand.
Wendy looked down at it.
“It’s a good article. But it doesn’t say anything about transmission. The author mentions the possibility of an increase in TB due to immigration, but how is it communicated, especially to such a defined population?”
“That was my question as well,” Marissa said.
“And how does it get into the fallopian tubes? It certainly doesn’t sound like blood or lymphatic spread, which is the usual way TB gets around. I wonder if it’s venereal.”
“What about contaminated tampons?”