Mr. and Mrs. Zemlinsky arrived home last night after an extended summer cruise through the Mediterranean, September in Rome and several quick trips to Singapore, London, Paris, Beijing and a quickie vacation in Majorca. Natasha was completely surprised by their arrival -- in the absence of cards, email or calls, she had assumed they were gone for good. She rushed to hug her mother.
Mrs. Zemlinsky permitted a brief hug, then held Natasha at arms length. "Getting pudgy again, aren't we dear? Must we put you in restraints?" Mrs. Zemlinsky does not actually intend to put Natasha in restraints, she simply has an edgy sense of humor.
"Um...Mom..."
"Yakkity yak yak. Zip it up, dear, and run along until tomorrow, I think your father wants to fuck me or something."
In the morning, Natasha approaches her mother, who is sitting at her desk banging away on a laptop.
"Mom, I'm pregnant".
Mrs. Zemlinsky does not look up from her work. "Dr. Hoover, dear, you know the drill. Remember to ask for a therapeutic flush, not an abortion. That's for the insurance. Put the copayment on your credit card. Talk to you father if you need a credit line increase."
"Mom, I'm having the baby".
Mrs. Zemlinsky continues working. "Now, dear, that's the depression talking. Have you discussed this with Dr. Adler?"
"I stopped seeing Dr. Adler in August, when I came out as a KulturPunk. I'm having Henry's baby! And if it's a boy, we will name him Felix! And if it;s a girl we will name her Fanny!"
Mrs. Zemlinsky stops typing, pulls off her glasses and glares at Natasha. "Damn!", she exclaims, flinging her glasses to the desk. "Can't your father and I go away for a teensie little vacation without you acting out your little teen drama? Albert! Your daughter is off her meds again and she's running around with Felix again!"
"Felix? I thought he was back in San Jose?"
"No, he's here and he knocked up your daughter! Call Dr. Adler and see if he can get a room at the Greenwood!"
"You call him! I'm busy! She's your daughter! And let her have the damn baby!"
Mrs. Zemlinsky exhaled, and decided to try a different approach. "Why would you want to have a baby? Babies are squalling messy things that have to be diapered and fed all the time. And it takes forever to get your figure back."
Natasha is ardent. "Because I love Henry, and it's Henry's baby, and the baby will be our love child, and having a baby is an act of loving love."
Mrs. Zemlinsky repeats the question. "Why would you want to have a baby? Babies are squalling messy things that have to be diapered and fed all the time. And it takes forever to get your figure back."
"You had me", says Natasha, defiantly.
"Yes, and it was hell. All that pushing. And afterwards your wetnurse was constantly interrupting: 'You hold baby, Mrs. Zemlinsky?'; 'Baby cry for you, Mrs. Zemlinsky!'. Yada yada yada. I couldn't get a stitch of work done for three days."
Natasha looks wistful. "My nurse, Graciella...I remember her...she played with me, and walked me to school, and met me after school. I wonder what happened to her?"
Mrs. Zemlinsky does not respond. She is typing again.
Meanwhile, at Miss Agassiz's house, Mary Bloom polishes the car with a soft cloth.
