In the Unlikely Event

He sent her to a doctor, who broke the news. She would never be able to have children, would never have normal sexual relations. She understood about not being able to have children. But what did she know about normal? What did she know about sexual relations? She didn’t ask questions, and the doctor didn’t offer explanations.

 

When she told Gerry she would not be able to have children he seemed more angry than disappointed. He didn’t hold her or kiss her or say he loved her anyway. “Did he tell you why you couldn’t have children?” he asked.

 

“Something about missing female body parts.”

 

“Jesus, body parts! What body parts? You mean you’re a freak? I married a freak? Did you know? You must have known.”

 

“I didn’t know.”

 

“How could you not have known? You tricked me into marrying you.”

 

“How did I trick you?”

 

“You gave me the come-on from day one. You were such a sexpot. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? What did you think would happen when…oh, Christ, never mind. We’ll get it annulled.”

 

“What’s ‘annulled’?”

 

“It means, since the marriage was never consummated—”

 

“What’s ‘consummated’?”

 

“We never had sex. Do you know what that means?”

 

She wasn’t an idiot. She just didn’t understand what was happening.

 

“So now we go back to the way it was before we went to Elkton,” he told her. “We go back to our lives before we met.”

 

“Can I keep your name?”

 

This made him laugh. “Dupree? You want to be Daisy Dupree?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Fuck, Daisy! How’re you going to explain that to your family?”

 

“That’s my business.”

 

“Be my guest.”

 

 

AFTER THAT, she’d reinvented herself. She’d learned to throw back a Scotch, to straddle a chair, smoke a pack of Camels a day and laugh at off-color jokes. She even told a few herself.

 

When her brother-in-law, Mel, said, You’ve turned into a real broad, Daisy, she’d said, Good for me!

 

She became strong, even tough if she had to be, a woman who made friends with men but who never let it get romantic. She was done with all that, with girlish dreams of houses with picket fences and little children calling her “Mommy.” She was a female in every way but one. So she was missing some of her lady parts. So what? The doctor had referred to her as “juvenile” down there. Well, that was the only part of her that was juvenile. She’d never have to worry about why she wasn’t getting pregnant, the way her sister, Evelyn, did. Maybe Evelyn was missing lady parts, too. She hadn’t told Evelyn or anyone else about her condition.

 

She lived with Evelyn and Mel in the small house she and Evelyn had inherited from their father. When Mel was killed driving home one rainy night on Vauxhall Road, Daisy was there for her sister. After a few months she encouraged Evelyn to take a refresher course at Katharine Gibbs, using some of the insurance money she’d collected when Mel died. “Get a job,” Daisy told her. “You’ll feel better.”

 

But jobs were scarce. The insurance agent was sorry he had to let Daisy go but the Depression was taking its toll, as if she didn’t know. She learned to drive her father’s old car, which had been sitting in the garage since her father’s death. The mechanic down the street got it running in exchange for a few bags of groceries. She heard about a dental practice in Elizabeth, looking for an assistant. She was interviewed by the dentist and his wife. They hired her on the spot. They hoped things would improve soon, and when they did, they’d promised her a raise.

 

 

AFTER TEN YEARS working for Dr. O, he’d asked out of the blue, “I don’t mean to pry, Daisy, but how is it a beautiful, accomplished woman like you has never married?”

 

She’d burst into tears, surprising herself and Dr. O.

 

“There…there…” he’d said, holding her, patting her back the way her father might have.

 

She felt so safe with him, trusted him so completely, she told him about Gerald Dupree and her condition.

 

He took a minute to respond. “Would you like me to set up an appointment with a specialist for you?”

 

“Yes,” she said, surprising herself again. “I would.”

 

The specialist confirmed the first doctor’s findings. He gave a name to her condition, though she would never use it. She asked Dr. O to tell no one, not even his wife.

 

“You don’t have to worry,” he said. “You are an extraordinary person, Daisy. Among the finest I’ve ever known. I consider myself lucky to have you in my life.”

 

“The feelings are mutual, Dr. O.”

 

She’d thought after that day they’d have no secrets from each other.

 

 

 

 

 

Elizabeth Daily Post

 

COMMERCIAL JET FLIGHTS BEGIN

 

By Henry Ammerman

 

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