Chapter 2: Little Passenger

San Luis Obispo, California

November 12, 2002

Dr. Gloria Niven’s office was mostly empty when they arrived. There was just the doctor herself, a medical assistant, and a receptionist on duty. The receptionist checked Celia in and the young medical assistant, her name was Yami and she appeared to be Indian (dot, not feather), took her vitals. They both seemed quite awed to be in Celia’s presence but neither of them expressed any surprise at her appearance in their workplace. They had obviously been briefed about the special new patient. Hopefully they had also been sternly briefed to keep their freaking mouths shut about it.

These preliminaries took about fifteen minutes. Dr. Niven then entered the exam room wearing her white coat, a stethoscope around her neck.

“It’s good to see you again, Celia,” she greeted. Celia had been present when the good doctor had delivered Cadence Kingsley nearly five years ago.

“It’s good to see you as well, doctor,” Celia replied. “You don’t know how good it feels to have to visit you in this capacity.”

“So, this is a planned pregnancy then?” she asked.

“A very much planned and wanted pregnancy,” Celia assured her.

“It’s always good to hear that,” Niven said. She then greeted Laura and told her it was good to see her again as well. It was clear, however, that she was still puzzled by her presence. Current and ex-wives simply did not hang out together, much less live together. It was unnatural. But still, she had a very famous patient to take care of and it was time to start doing it. They passed a few more pleasantries and then she pulled out a notepad. “I’m going to ask you some basic questions about your health and gynecological history to get us started.”

“Okay,” Celia said.

Niven then asked about her general health. Did Celia have any medical problems? Was she taking any medications? Did she have any allergies? She then asked the first loaded question. “Have you ever had any surgeries in your life?”

“Uh ... yes, I have,” Celia said.

Niven looked up at her. “What kind of surgery was it? And when was it?”

“It was ... uh ... November 20^th, 1998. It was a laparoscopic removal of my right fallopian tube due to an ectopic pregnancy.”

Niven continued to look at her, her face expressionless. “So ... you have been pregnant before then?”

Celia nodded. “Just that one time,” she said.

“That makes you gravida two, para zero at this point then,” Niven said, noting that down. “Assuming that we confirm this current pregnancy, of course. That was going to be my next question.”

“Uh ... right,” Celia said, knowing that gravid was Latin for pregnant and para was Latin for birth. The phrase could only mean she had been pregnant twice but had produced no living children as of yet. Such a cold, medical way to put it. “Second pregnancy, nothing to show for them yet.”

“In November of 1998, you say?”

“November 20, 1998,” she repeated. That date was burned forever into her memory.

“I have to ask some rather personal questions at this point,” Niven said. “Anything you tell me will be in confidence. Being truthful with me will be very much to your advantage and to your baby’s advantage.”

“Okay,” Celia said softly.

“Was your ex-husband, Greg Oldfellow, the father of your lost pregnancy?”

Celia shook her head. “No. That was a considerable time after our divorce.”

“Do you know your blood type?” Niven asked next.

Celia knew exactly where this was heading. “I do,” she said. “I’m A-negative.”

“You’re sure about that?” Niven asked. “I mean, the labs we’re going to run today are going to check, but if you are Rh-negative there are some concerns involved.”

“I understand,” Celia said. “If a Rh-positive father gives me a Rh-positive baby and our blood mixes, as it undoubtedly did during the ectopic, future babies might be attacked by my immune system as they reach late term. We went over this at length after the ectopic surgery. The father of that lost pregnancy is Rh-negative as well.”

“You’re sure about that?” Niven asked. “Absolutely sure?”

“He was tested at the time for confirmation,” Laura said. “We’re absolutely sure.”

Celia took a deep breath. They had discussed this but it was still hard to share such personal details. Before Niven could ask if Celia was one hundred percent sure if who she assumed was the father of the previous baby (this alleged Rh negative person) actually had been the father, she said, “The father of that lost baby is the father of my current baby.”

This time Niven’s facial expression changed. They had managed to break through her professional façade—the medical professional assumption that everyone was lying to her in some way, shape, or form—quite well. “You mean...”

Celia nodded. “That’s right,” she said. “Jake Kingsley was the one who got me pregnant back in 1998. Jake is for sure O-negative blood type. If you want to test him again, that’s fine—he can fly home during one of the extended tour breaks and do that—but we are one hundred percent sure that he was the father of the ectopic pregnancy and we are one hundred percent sure that he is the father of this pregnancy.”

Niven’s mouth dropped open now. She looked at Laura. “Did you know?” she asked.

“It depends on what you mean by that,” Laura said. “I did not know that Jake had impregnated C until the ectopic happened. I did know, however, that the two of them were having regular sexual relations.”

“I ... I see,” Niven said softly, though it was quite clear that she did not.

Celia and Laura shared a look and passed a little nod between them.

“Listen, Dr. Niven,” Laura said. “C and I talked it over last night and then we both talked it over with Jake.”

“Talked what over?” she asked.

“Talked over how much of what is really going on in this situation that we need to share with you,” Laura said. “We decided it would be in the best interests of all to tell you everything.”

“Everything?” Niven said, confused. “What is everything?”

“The story of the three of us,” Celia said. “Why Teach is still living in the house, why Teach and I still hang out together, why Teach and Jake still hang out with each other.” She paused. “Why Jake got me pregnant back in 1998 and Teach was okay with it.”

“Okayyy,” Niven said slowly.

“The story needs to stay in this room,” Celia said. “You cannot tell it to anyone. Not to your husband, not to your staff, not to your boss, not to your priest, not to your best friend while you’re drinking wine together. No one. Ever. This is information you take to the grave, the ultimate test of your confidentiality oath.”

Niven nodded slowly. “I will tell no one what is spoken to me in confidence for as long as I live,” she promised. “I swore an oath to that and I take it seriously.”

“All right then,” Celia said. “Here it is in a nutshell. Me, Teach, and Jake are in a relationship with each other.”

“A ... relationship?” Niven asked.

“A romantic and sexual relationship,” Celia said. “This has been going on for more than five years now, since Teach was about three months pregnant with Caydee.”

“You mean ... you all do it with ... with ... each other?”

“We do,” Laura confirmed.

“At the same time?”

“Not always, but quite frequently,” Celia said, “but that is not the primary basis of the relationship. We do not expect you to understand or condone what the three of us have together, just that you keep it to yourself. We are in love with each other. Teach and I are both bisexual. We both love Jake. Jake loves both of us. We both love each other. Let us just have you assume in your own mind that these statements are correct. You don’t have to believe it or approve of it, you just have to take our word that, in our own minds at least, this is the case. Can you follow along with us on this?”

“Yes,” she said, her mouth still open, “but how ... uh why...”

“Hows and whys don’t matter,” Celia said. “The situation is what the situation is. We need to be honest with you about this because you’re going to be my doctor through this thing. I need to be able to trust you and you need to be able to trust me for this relationship to work. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Niven said, still reeling. “It makes sense.”

“Jake and I are not really divorced,” Laura told her. “I mean ... in the eyes of the law and the courts and public opinion and all that, we are, but in our hearts and in our day to day lives, we’re really not.”

“Why did you get divorced then?” Niven could not help but ask.

“So that Jake and Celia could get married,” Laura said.

“I ... I don’t understand,” Niven said.

“I want to have a baby,” Celia said. “I want to have a legitimate baby that can take the father’s name and grow up not being thought of as a bastard or a lovechild. That is very important to me. Teach was nice enough to let me borrow her husband for a while.”

“As long as she gives him back when she’s done with him,” Laura said with a smile.

Niven had thought the story had been as bizarre as it could possibly be. With this statement and with the explanation that followed, she found she was wrong.

Gloria Niven did take doctor-patient confidentiality quite seriously. Though she had been blown away (and more than a little intrigued) by what Celia and Laura had told her about their relationship with Jake Kingsley, she had no intention of ever mentioning it to anyone. That secret was safe, at least from being revealed by her. But there was also the matter of the simple fact that Celia Valdez-Kingsley was pregnant in the first place (assuming that she actually was, verbal reports of a positive home pregnancy test were not considered reliable in the medical community). She needed to take steps to keep her famous patient’s condition secret until Celia was prepared to release the information publicly.

She had already talked to her staff about keeping Celia’s condition (or the fact that she was even a patient of Niven’s) confidential, gently but clearly letting them know that any breach of that confidentiality that could be traced to an individual would be cause for immediate termination from employment and possible criminal charges. Yes, it was juicy gossip, but they were not to share it with anyone, not their boyfriends, their girlfriends, their best friends, their priests, their pastors, or even their pets. All had assured her they would abide by this and she believed them.

But there were now other people about to get involved. The outpatient lab downstairs was not a part of her business, but she had considerable influence there as fully twenty percent of their business came from her office. She called up the manager of the lab while Celia was still sitting in the exam room. She had to go through a receptionist to get to him, but that receptionist put her right through.

“Hi, Dr. Niven,” the voice said. “Steve Serna here.”

“Hey, Steve,” Niven said. “I need you to do something for me.”

“I’ll do it if I can,” he told her pleasantly.

“Come up to my office as soon as possible and bring with you whichever phlebotomist currently working that you consider the most trustworthy. Have him or her bring whatever is needed to draw a CBC, a CMP, an hCG quant, and an ABO-Rh. A standard new pregnancy blood workup, in other words.”

“Come up there?” Serna asked, confused. “Why would we do that? Just send the patient down to us with the order slip, like usual.”

“This is a high profile patient who is not ready to announce that fact just yet,” Niven said. “We want her presence in this building to be as unobserved as possible.”

“Who is it?” he asked her.

“You’ll find that out when you get up here,” she replied.

“But ... well ... we need to have labels for the blood tubes,” he said.

“You can print them up when you take the blood tubes back down,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s against policy and procedure,” he said. “We cannot run labs that were not labeled in the presence of the patient. We have to be able to verify name and date of birth of the samples with the patient at the time of draw.”

She gritted her teeth in frustration for a moment but did not protest. She actually understood the explanation. Failure to follow that policy could easily lead to mislabeled specimens. There could be all kinds of consequences, some quite nasty, if that were to occur. “Okay,” she told him. “How about this? I send one of my medical assistants down with the order sheet for the labs. You personally input them and print the labels. Then you and your phlebotomist come up here and make the draw. You then run the samples yourself. You are a certified clinical lab scientist, are you not?”

“Yes, I am, but I’m an administrator. I haven’t run the equipment in more than six years. Someone familiar with their operation should run the samples.”

Niven sighed. Again, she understood the concern. Steve would likely foul up the samples if he tried to run them. “Okay,” she said. “That makes sense. Have your most trustworthy CLS run them, but he or she must understand the seriousness of confidentiality here.”

“Who is this patient?” Steve asked. “I’m going to know as soon as you bring the order slip down.”

Again, he had a point. She gave in. “It’s Celia Valdez-Kingsley,” she said.

“Wow,” Steve whispered.

“Exactly,” Niven said. “She believes she is pregnant. I just signed her up as a patient. She wants to keep this information private until she is ready to release it. This is a very common thing among newly pregnant women but Celia is not a common woman. Everyone in SLO County knows who she is and knows who her husband is. They are major celebrities. All it would take is one person with knowledge of her situation to mention it to one other person in their life and the secret is out and we would be responsible for that. We need to make sure that does not happen. My people have all been told how important confidentiality is in this case. You need to make sure that all of your people understand the same. No one who does not need to know is told about this. Those who do need to know need to keep their mouths shut. If a breach in that confidentiality is traced back to a member of our team, that person will be immediately fired and possibly criminally prosecuted. If it is traced back to someone in your lab, I obviously cannot fire them, but I can cease sending my patients to you and I can encourage the other physicians in this building to do the same. So, I ask you again, can you impress upon your people the importance of absolute confidentiality in this matter?”

“I can,” he said. “We rely on the doctors in this building for more than eighty percent of our business. If we lose eighty percent of our business, corporate would shut us down. We’ll be up in five minutes.”

Steve really had no reason to come up, but he did so anyway. With him was a cute girl in her late twenties and a fussy looking bald man in his forties. All three of them were wearing white lab coats. Niven led them into the exam room where Celia was waiting. Laura had gone back out to the car to avoid giving the lab people one more thing to keep secret.

Steve introduced himself and his two underlings to Celia. Carla was the phlebotomist. Gary was the lab scientist. All three seemed quite awed to be in her presence. Carla told Celia how much she loved her music. Celia thanked her politely.

“Okay, Celia, I’m going to go ahead and draw the blood now,” Carla told her. She held up a sheaf of three labels. “Can you verify your full name and date of birth for me.”

“Celia Valdez-Kingsley,” she said. “January 15^th, 1962.”

“Very good,” Carla said. “Just want to make sure I have the right labels.”

Celia, as someone who exercised regularly and worked with her hands, had good veins. Carla had many to choose from. She decided to go for the easiest, the large vein in the crook of Celia’s right elbow—the antecubital vein, or AC, it was called. She put a tourniquet around the bicep and then cleaned the area with an alcohol swab. She put her tubes in easy reach and then opened up the sterile packaging that held the phlebotomy needle. Though she was not showing it, she was very nervous. She was good at her job, one of those who were specifically called to obtain difficult sticks, but this was Celia Valdez she was poking here! What if she missed on Celia Valdez? She took a deep breath, commanding herself to be calm and then made the stick. She did not miss. She plugged her tubes into the back of the needle assembly one by one. She filled two that had purple tops on them and one that had a green top. She then put a sterile 2x2 swab over the needle site and removed the needle. A safety device covered it automatically as it came out. She secured the bandage with a large piece of tape.

“That’s it,” she told Celia, carrying the needle over to the sharps container on the wall.

“I hardly felt it at all,” Celia said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Carla said, stripping off her gloves and tossing them in the trash can. She then took a pen from her pocket and wrote the time, circled the date, and then put her initials on each label. She peeled them off and stuck them to the blood tubes, which she then handed to Gary the scientist.

“I hope that Steve has impressed upon the three of you the need for absolute confidentiality in this matter,” Niven said.

“He has,” Gary said. “We will tell no one what we did up here.”

“No one means no one,” Niven said. “Not your coworkers, not your spouses, not your clergy, not your best friend. No one.”

“I will tell no one,” Carla said. “I promise.”

“Me as well,” Gary said.

“Thank you,” Celia told them. “I want to keep this thing private until I know I’m really pregnant and I’m reasonably sure I’m going to actually deliver a baby. If even one person outside of the medical establishment hears about this, I guarantee it will be on the news within twenty-four hours. That’s the life I live.”

They nodded solemnly, actually feeling a little pity for her. Imagine having to live life like that. Maybe being a beautiful celebrity was not all roses and champagne.

They left the room a minute later, telling Celia it had been nice to meet her.

“Do you think they’ll keep their word?” Celia asked the doctor.

“I think so,” she said, “at least until you break the story on your own anyway.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Celia said.

Meghan had watched Caydee for the appointment but did not know what the appointment was about. She did have her suspicion, but she said nothing. She simply gave the two ladies hugs, gave additional hugs and kisses to Caydee herself, and then left, heading back to the townhouse she shared with Massa. She would not mention her suspicion to him. She was good at confidentiality.

Dr. Niven called personally about an hour after Meghan left. Celia took the call.

“I have your labs back,” the doctor told her.

“Okay,” Celia said. “What’s the word?”

“You are indeed pregnant,” Niven said. “Your hCG quantitative came back at thirty-eight thousand. That is consistent with a four to five week pregnancy and it matches up with your reported last menstrual period of September 27^th. That would give us an approximate date of conception of October 11 and an estimated date of delivery, or EDD, of July 3^rd.”

“That’s awesome!” Celia said happily. “That all matches up with what I found on Google.”

“I’m glad I can validate Dr. Google,” Niven said. “Anyway, we can refine things a bit when it comes time for the first ultrasound at eight weeks estimated. As for your other labs, your CBC and metabolic panel were all perfectly normal. Blood count is good, platelets are good, all electrolytes good, kidney function and liver function are both beautiful. As for your blood type, you are indeed A-negative. If Jake is indeed O-negative, there is no need for concern for an immune reaction.”

“I already knew that, but it’s good to have confirmation,” Celia said.

“All right then,” Niven said. “We’ve already set up your next appointment for December 16^th. That’s when we’ll do the first ultrasound and get a look at your little passenger so we can estimate due date, check for any abnormalities, and make sure he or she is actually implanted in the right place. It will be too early, however, to determine sex of the baby at that point. Will Jake be able to come with you?”

“I’ll have to look at his tour schedule but he’s already told me that if there is any way for him to be there, he will.”

“Very good,” Niven said. “I’ll look forward to seeing him again. In the meantime, you have the pamphlets I gave you and Laura told me she still has a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Start reading that. Follow the advice. Avoid alcohol as much as possible and avoid any marijuana use. Current studies say that caffeine is okay as long as you don’t go crazy with it. No Motrin or other NSAIDs including aspirin and Naproxen. There is a list of medicines you can and cannot take in the pamphlets. If something does not appear on the ‘can’ list, don’t take it even if does not appear on the ‘cannot’ list. Keep exercising like normal. Keep eating like normal. If you start to get morning sickness, give me a call and I’ll prescribe Zofran for you. A little bit of spotty vaginal blood at times is normal but consistent bleeding or heavy bleeding and abdominal cramping are not normal. Get to the ED at Baptist if anything like that happens.”

“I understand,” Celia said.

“I gave you my personal number,” Niven said. “Don’t hesitate to call me if you have any concerns.”

“I won’t,” Celia said.

Celia had lots of concerns, but she did not call Dr. Niven about them. None of them were anything more than speculative or imaginary concerns that any forty year old pregnant woman might have. Jake had been updated by phone on her official condition. He expressed sincere happiness about it. They checked the tour schedule and found that December 16^th was the first day of a three day break in the tour between the last of two December 15^th shows in Tampa, Florida and the first of two in New Orleans, Louisiana. Jake booked a charter flight to take him home after the show in Tampa. He would have to pull a Doug Foreman and bail immediately after the performance, go to the hotel and shower, and then go to the airport and board the charter plane for the five hour flight home, sleeping during the flight so he would be awake enough for the 8:30 appointment.

Meanwhile, they still planned on the reunion in Charlottle on December 4^th to visit with Jake for four days and nights. Both of Jake’s women were already missing the harder things in life and wanted their share. And Laura could not wait to engage in one of her favorite activities now that Celia did not actually need Jake’s deposits to stay in place. It had been a long time since she had last enjoyed that pleasure.

“I’m going to fly back to be with Rev,” Celia told Laura the evening of November 16^th, just after the two of them had finished up an hour-long sapphic session that had ended with mutual, trib produced orgasms. Both were sweaty and quite satiated.

“I figured,” Laura said, unperturbed. If all went well, Celia would have to give Jake back in another year or so. She understood wanting to spend as much time as possible in his company as his lawfully wedded wife.

“I’ll call Rev up in the morning and have him make the flight arrangement.” She shook her head a little. “I’ll have to look at the schedule just to see where he is going to be.”

“They’re flying to Baltimore tomorrow morning,” Teach told her. “They did the last show in Philly tonight. They’ll have a two day break before the first Baltimore gig.”

“Oh ... I see. How do you keep track of all of that?”

“I usually can’t,” she said, “but I talked to Jake this morning before he left for the meet and greets. You were still sleeping.”

“That makes sense,” Celia said. “I’ll have to fly into Baltimore then.”

“Yep,” Laura said, snuggling a little tighter into her lover, enjoying the feminine smell of their combined musk, enjoying the clammy feel of her skin. She kissed her, enjoying the taste of her own juices on Celia’s lips. “I really do love you, love.”

“And I really do love you, Teach,” Celia returned with complete sincerity. “I hope it doesn’t bother you that I want to go back and be with him. I could lie and say it was to keep up the subterfuge we’re putting on, and part of that is true, but that’s not really the reason. I just want to be with him as much as can.”

“I understand, love,” Laura assured her.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms and slept soundly.

The next morning, after breakfast (Laura had to cook it since it was the weekend and Elsa was off-duty, but, since delivery was not available at their isolated house, she had become reasonably good at making breakfasts and even the occasional dinner), Celia consulted the tour schedule to see what hotel the band would be staying in for the Baltimore dates. It was the brand new Marriott of Baltimore on the waterfront. She checked the time. It was 10:20 AM here, which meant it would be 1:20 PM in Baltimore. The band should have made their flight and gotten checked in by now. The schedule helpfully included the hotel’s phone number. She dialed it and asked for Glenn Sutter’s room. The operator, knowing who Glenn Sutter was and that anyone who asked for him was authorized to speak to him, made the connection. A moment later, she was talking to Rev.

“Can you get me a flight to Baltimore today?” she asked him.

“Probably,” he said. “I’ll just have to call the concierge. Can’t stay away from me?”

“I can’t stay away from you,” she confirmed. “My next OB appointment is not until the day she does the ultrasound so there’s no real reason for me to stay here. Teach and Caydee and Sharon will still fly out to meet us on the 4^th. I feel bad about missing Caydee and Kelvin’s birthday, but ... it would be a little awkward anyway, what with your parents and the Nerdlys’ parents all being there.”

“I understand,” Jake said. “Laura is cool with it?”

“She is cool with it.”

Three hours later, she was the only passenger on a Gulf Stream jet that was accelerating down the runway at SLO Regional. Another twenty thousand dollar flight across the country. But it was fast and easy and there was no airport security to deal with. And, though they would receive endless grief about it from Jill, it was only money.

Jake and Celia kept their secret from all the rest of the band except Nerdly, who had deduced the reason for Celia flying back to SLO the moment he had been informed about it. Nerdly kept his silence and did not even mention his suspicion to Jake or Celia. Everyone else in the band and road crew were under the impression that Celia had had to fly home to deal with some KVA business that required her presence. No one questioned this. It seemed reasonable enough on the surface.

Celia developed no morning sickness (or afternoon sickness or evening sickness for that matter). She experienced no bleeding. She experienced no fatigue or soreness in the breasts. In fact, she continued to feel perfectly fine. Had she not been quite late for her period and had she not had a positive serum pregnancy test, she would have had no suspicion that a little embryo was growing in her. A nickname for the embryo soon developed. She had taken to referring to it as “my little passenger” as Dr. Niven had referred to it. Jake soon picked up on this as well, although he would say “the little passenger”.

Celia worried incessantly about her little passenger. Having lost her first little passenger to a narrow fallopian tube, her mind kept picturing the passenger lodged in her remaining tube, growing and growing and running out of room to expand, doomed to a fate of trying to kill its mother before dying itself. Not out of maliciousness, but out of circumstances and fate. She kept expecting to feel that hollow pain erupt within her, signaling the onset of ectopic rupture. Any little minor twinge in her belly, no matter how brief or how mild or what location, would trigger a panic attack within her.

She always felt better when Jake was with her. Just his very presence was enough to soothe her mind and his soul. Intemperance performed their two shows in Baltimore and then everyone moved onto Richmond, then Virginia Beach, and then Raleigh for one show apiece. And then, the morning after the Raleigh show, they flew to Charlotte. When they took off to make the short hop, Laura, Caydee, and Sharon were in their own plane, at 7:10 AM Pacific Time, at San Luis Obispo Regional Airport, ready to take off for the five hour flight. They would arrive a little after three o’clock Charlotte time. Jake and Celia took a nap (just a nap) and then had a late lunch. They lounged around in their sweatpants and t-shirts, Celia without a bra on, watching a little television, mostly just relaxing. They were well into the grind of touring at this point and, while it was not nearly the same grind they used to undertake, what with all the built in off-days and extended travel breaks, it was still a grind, and they were both over forty now and exhausted.