“So, wait…you dip the pineapple in the barbecue sauce and then put a pickle on top of it? Isn’t that gross? Roger asked, as Harriett jotted away in her binder. She would be leaving for Scotland until March 12 and she was familiarizing Roger with every note and every page she had kept in his absence.
“No, no. That’s what she craved last week. Of course, that could all change next week.” Harriett smiled. “She’s been pretty predictable with food. Some of her favorites are highlighted. Doctor upped her calcium supplement. I wish she would gain more weight. The doctor seems to think her body mass is good but in nearly six months she’s only put on ten pounds. Most women I see have put on at least fifteen to twenty at this point.” Harriett shared.
“I’m tellin’ ya’. You’re not going to get Lyd to put on any more weight than she thinks she has to.” Roger said, milling about the kitchen to get everything out that he needed for his cocktail. Harriett laughed and flipped a few pages of the binder.
"Listen, I need to ask you about something in Lydia's medical history. It becomes important as she enters the final trimester." Harriett said, continuing to write notes.
"Sure. What do you need to know?" He asked, pouring his drink and offering Harriett the same; of course, she declined.
"I see that Lydia has was treated for Syphillis and Herpes in 1977. Which strain of Herpes did she have? 1 or 2?" Harriett asked, flipping her pages. Roger looked at her a little taken aback by her question and rubbing his finger around the rim of his glass. He didn’t answer. She stopped writing and looked up. "Mr. Taylor?"
"I don't wanna talk about it." He said abruptly, picking up his glass.
Harriett was puzzled. "That doesn't matter. I need to know. It's very important that I..."
"I said, I don't wanna’ fuckin’ about it! She had it! It's gone. Nothin' to talk about!" Roger slumped back in the chair and scowled. Harriett studied him carefully.
"If Lydia has an outbreak, it could be passed to the baby. I need to know more about this." Harriett emphasized. Roger slowly softened his gaze at her, his face in a bit of shock. "What strain did she contract?"
"The...the baby could...could get it?" Roger asked, not answering the question.
"It's my duty to make sure she doesn't have an outbreak and the baby doesn’t get it. Please. Please answer me." Harriett begged. Roger stared at her in disbelief. There was another silence between them as he finally blinked at her.
"Two. It was two. Herpes Simplex 2." He said before sniffing and shifting his focus to the table, taking another drink.
"How did she get it?" Harriett asked, writing away. There was silence again as Roger nervously reached for his pack of cigarettes. Harriett looked up from her notes. "Mr. Taylor?" She inquired further into the silence. Roger refused to look across the table at Harriett. He had been home for one day and he didn’t have time for this…or so he thought. When Harriett didn’t get an answer, she pressed on. “Mr….”
“She got it from, me, okay? She fuckin’ got it from me! And now….now….” Roger shook his head angrily. “…now my baby could get this because of me!? Can’t you see that I fuck everything up!? Huh!? Yes! Yes, Harriett! I’ve slept around on Lydia! I’ve slept around on her a lot. Now I know that this information isn’t something you want to hear nor do you condone! But it’s the truth! Lydia and I have dealt with it and I…I need you to…to stop lookin’ at me like that because I love Lydia.” Roger glanced to the table and put his hand against his forehead as Harriett continued to stare at him.
