Chapter Eleven: Long Distance Booty Call
After about a week back in Maryland, it appears that my mother is doing better than we - or at least I - expected. She gets tired easily, but is generally strong. The living room has been converted into a makeshift hospital room, complete with hospital bed, oxygen tanks, charts on clipboards and bottles upon bottles of pills, but other than that, it feels much like a normal visit home. It’s not like she’s out of the woods or anything - she is still in hospice care – but her quality of life doesn't seem significantly worse than it has been over the last couple of months.
The time has come, however, for the next “baby-bout” and I get the 3,000-mile booty call from Lyena. At 2AM one morning, she calls me, drunk, and says, “I want you. I need you. I must have you. NOW!” I immediately jump in the car, speed to the airport and shove my way onto the next plane headed to LA. When I land, Lyena is waiting in nothing but a trench coat and feather boa. We make it no farther than the car before she shreds off my clothes and takes me like the raw hunk of man-flesh that I am.
Okay. So maybe it didn’t happen exactly like that.
In actuality, it was several conversations over several days as Lyena got a series of ultrasounds and we determined our optimal moment of fertilization.
And instead of a trench coat and boa, it was yoga pants and a t-shirt.
And instead of actual, you know, sex, it was a speculum and syringe.
And instead of a car, it was Dr. VaJayjay’s office.
And instead of me, it was Dr. VaJayjay.
Other than that, it happened just like I said.
Up next... On The Road Again