Chapter 4

Jenna unlocked the front door of the brick house. Keith followed her inside, holding a plastic cup. "A chocolate milkshake for breakfast," she said. "I don't believe it."

"I love these." He sucked some from the straw. "Your blood sugar was perfectly normal this morning, wasn't it?"

"Normal for me at that time of day, yes. How's yours? Care to find out?"

He looked at the clock on the stove in the kitchen. "Nine-thirty. I imagine your mom will be calling at ten on the dot."

"Depending on her workload, yes."

Keith slurped the last of his milkshake. He opened cabinet doors until he found a wastebasket under the sink.

"Hey," Jenna said. "Don't throw that away. It's recyclable."

Keith opened the cabinet door and retrieved the empty cup. "Just my luck to fall in love with a green, tree-hugging environmentalist."

"Just my luck to fall in love with a someone who's so lazy and wasteful he can't take the extra fifteen seconds to rinse it and put it in the recycle bin."

He embraced and kissed her. "Well ... I don't suppose there's any chance you'll change your ways so I'll just have to change mine."

She kissed his lips. "Keep thinking like that and we'll get along just fine." He rinsed out his cup. "The lid's recyclable, too."

"What about the straw?"

"That you can toss."

Keith pulled the wastebasket from under the sink and began fishing through it for the lid. "So, you recycle everything?"

"We recycle all paper, plastic, metal and glass," she replied.

"Let's see if you practice what you preach." He rummaged through the wastebasket. "Ah-ha!" He held up a paper towel. "Here's paper."

"We recycle newspaper, cardboard -- stuff like that. The recycling center doesn't want used paper towels, Kleenex or coffee filters."

"Or, toilet paper."

"GROSS!"

"What about this?" He picked up a foam coffee cup.

"They can't use those, either."

"Something's stuffed inside it -- something kind of heavy..." He removed a crumpled paper towel and out fell a small, glass vial, capped with aluminum and a rubber septum. "Jenna -- look at this! It was concealed in the cup."

"It's an insulin vial," she said. "It's not my prescription. It's U-500. I use U-100."

"U-500 would be more concentrated, wouldn't it?"

"Yes it would."

"Look -- it came from Community Hospital dispensary ... for a patient named Thelma Johnson."

"Community is where Mom works," Jenna replied. "What would she be doing with Thelma's prescription?"

"Jenna -- do you realize that every time you've had a reaction it's been after having dinner with your mom?"

"But, not every time -- I mean not after every dinner."

"You were fine last night after our dinner out."

She nodded. "You're right. I waited for the jitters but they never came. My bedtime sugar was right in line."

"Tell me exactly what your routine is when you have dinner with your mom."

"Well ... I take the bus and get home around five. Mom thinks I should refrigerate my insulin so the first thing I do is to take it out of my kit and put it in the fridge. Then I go change my clothes. Dinner is usually at six so after I change my clothes I take my before-dinner shot."

"Which would give your mother time to adulterate it..." He held up the empty vial. " ... with this."

"But I use it during the day. If it were adulterated, I'd be having reactions all the time ... Unless..."

Jenna opened the refrigerator and began rummaging through it. She opened a drawer and removed packs of bologna, salami and cheese. She picked up something in the back of the drawer. "Keith!" She held up another vial. "This one IS my prescription."

He examined it. "Someone put a little blue X on the label. See?"

"I see..." She regarded him, slack-jawed.

"While you're changing your clothes, she'd have time for a switcheroo. Do you read the label before you use it?"

"N ... no I don't. I just grab it and use it."

"As a chemist, I have developed the habit of always reading the label -- even if it's a reagent bottle I had in my hand five minutes before."

Jenna put her hand against her belly. "I feel sick. Why would Mom do something like that?"

"We don't know for sure that she has. We need more proof."

"What should we do?"

"For starters, call the pharmacy and order a refill."

"Okay..." She picked up the phone and dialed the number on the label of her vial. "Yes, I'd like to order a refill." She read the prescription number and hung up the phone.

"We can go get it."

"I have to wait for Mom's call."

"Where's the pharmacy? I'll go get it."

"On the corner of Lincoln and Bass."

"I'll be right back. If your mom calls -- don't let on we're wise to this. Okay?"

"Okay."

Keith drove to the pharmacy. He stepped to the counter. "I'm picking up a prescription for Jenna Cole."

"Just a minute..." He looked in the refill bins and then checked his computer. "Insurance declined it -- seems there was a refill ordered just two weeks ago."

"Could you please fill it? I'll pay for it out of pocket."

"Fine. Have a seat." Keith sat beside an old man. "Jones?" The man stood and ambled to the counter.

Keith twiddled his thumbs. "Cole?" He handed the pharmacist his credit card. "Here's the receipt. You can try appealing to the insurance company. Maybe they'll honor it." Keith signed the slip. Then he headed back to Jenna's house.

He stepped inside. "Did she call?"

"Yes. I told her I'm fine and I told her that you're picking me up tonight so we can watch another film."

"Star Wars."

"I didn't mention it by name."

"Here." He handed her the vial. "I want you to keep this in your possession at all times. Inject yourself only from this." He noticed a red felt pen on the counter. "I'll put a red dot on the label."

"What about keeping it cold?"

"My mother doesn't refrigerate her insulin. I think back before they had modern production techniques maybe spoilage was a problem." '

Jenna nodded. "I understand."

"We'll put the other back where we found it -- and, put your regular supply in the fridge where you always do."

"What about Thelma's vial?"

"I'm keeping it for evidence. Do you have a plastic bag?"

Jenna opened a cabinet and retrieved a zip-lock plastic sandwich bag. Keith dropped the vial into it and slipped it into his pocket. Then he stuffed the paper towel into the cup and replaced it in the wastebasket.

He embraced her. "I'm scared, Keith. What next?"

"We have our date tonight. We'll see where we stand. In the meantime, act like nothing's out of the ordinary."

"I'll take a shower and put on fresh clothes. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to start searching the literature on the topic of insulin."

"Remember -- home by eleven," Jenna's mother said as she headed out the door.

Keith escorted her to his car and she fastened her belt. "You were right," she said as he pulled onto the street. "When I did my before-dinner shot, it was the bottle with the blue X on the label on the shelf in the fridge."

"You used your own supply, didn't you?"

"Of course. Then, I drew some out of the blue-X vial and squirted it down the drain -- in case she's keeping track of the level."

"Smart girl. I have some news for you. I called the hospital, pretending to be a concerned relative and asked to be connected to Thelma Johnson's room."

"And?"

"She's no longer a patient. Which means, either she recovered or she didn't. So, I went online and checked the obituaries."

"And?"

"Thelma Johnson passed away two weeks ago -- at the hospital and after a long illness."

"So that explains how Mom got hold of her insulin vial. Thelma's in no condition to miss it. I'm having trouble assimilating this, Keith. I don't understand why she would do something like this."

"Right now all we have is a hypothesis. On Monday we'll know for sure."

"What happens on Monday?"

"I've been reading articles on how to analyze for insulin. The best method is HPLC. We have an HPLC instrument at work. You'll need to sneak that blue-tagged vial to the lab."

"Mom works Saturday, Sunday and Monday this week. I have to leave by seven-thirty to get to work by eight. Mom leaves after that. I'll figure something out."

Keith parked near his condominium. "I'm having trouble putting this insulin business out of my mind," she said.

"For tonight let's forget about insulin and concentrate on Star Wars ... the original, theatrical edition. Not, the special edition."

"Why, what's the difference?"

"This is not the one where Greedo shoots first."

"Who's Greedo?"

"We'll discuss it after the film." He kissed her lips. "It's not often I get to deflower a Star Wars virgin."

Keith opened his front door. He flicked through his collection until he found the disc. Into his player's tray it went and he took his position on the sofa. Jenna sat beside him, drawing her left foot up and under her right knee. She leaned against him and he caressed her thigh through the fabric of her jeans.

The film ended. Keith ejected the disc and replaced it in its case. He sat on the sofa and Jenna sat on his lap. "Any jitters?" he asked.

"No -- I'm fine."

"How did you like the film?"

"Well ... I do see similarities to that Kurosawa film. For example, these weren't realistic characters, either."

"They're not supposed to be. They're archetypes."

"At least they weren't shouting at each other."

"So, you didn't like it?"

"I didn't say that. At least, now I understand the references to it."

He kissed her lips. It's just past nine forty-five. We have an hour to kill."

"Mmm ... What did you have in mind?"

"I dunno ... I thought, maybe now might be a good time for some nipple therapy -- to keep you healthy, that is."

"Is that the prescription Doctor Keith recommends?"

"It's one I'll fill, any time."

Jenna pulled her blouse from the waistband of her jeans. She unbuttoned it and slipped it from her shoulders. Underneath she wore a white sports bra. Through the fabric Keith could make out traces of her wide areolas.

She grabbed the bra, lifted it over her head and set it on the sofa. Then she sat on Keith's thighs, facing him and began unbuttoning his shirt.

Keith cupped his hands under her breasts. "Do you see what you'd look like if you wore a bra with some support instead of those minimizing ones?"

"Would that make you happy?" she asked.

"Mmm ... It would." Keith nuzzled his lips between them. "It would make me very happy." He began kissing and tonguing her left nipple while holding and caressing her back. Jenna twirled his hair with her finger. He could feel her breathing slowing and deepening.

"Mmm ... mmm ... mmm..." she hummed. He could feel her heartbeats in his lips as he nursed. "Other side..."

He tongued and nursed her right breast. Keith unsnapped Jenna's jeans. She stood and began sliding them down her legs. He dashed into his bedroom and returned with the box of condoms and found her nude except for a pair of white socks.