Manifesting the Grail

“Well, it looks like you are definitely not pregnant.” The attending physician said.

“What?” Chelsea replied astonished.

“You are not pregnant.” The doctor repeated.

“How can that be?” Chelsea asked as she became uncharacteristically emotional.

“Your various hormonal levels are such that you are not with child. What typically happens with women that are under unusually stressful situations---life changes, traumatic events and such, they may enter a phase of perimenopause. This can be treated with effective hormone therapies---“

“I’m not menopausal. I’m only twenty- seven.” She said growing ever more upset.

“Don’t misunderstand, Miss Barrett. I’m not saying that you are menopausal or even in perimenopause. What I’m saying is that incredible stress can bring on the symptoms. You’re just out of balance.” Doctor Whitcomb tried to calmly explain. But his words felt like needles and with each puncture Chelsea felt herself deflate even more.

“Were you…em, were you trying?” The doctor stumbled in his British tone.

“Trying?” Chelsea managed to say through her sobs.

“Trying to conceive.” He said softly.

“NO---no, no, no. It was an accident.” She said.

“Then perhaps you’re relieved to know that an unplanned pregnancy has been averted.” He said and he smiled as if his words had absolved and resolved the situation.

“Are you on birth control?” He asked as he took notes.

“Yeah. I’m on the pill.” She said.

“Perhaps when you return to the states you can see your regular gynecologist and have the doctor prescribe something that will evenly distribute your hormonal make-up.” He smiled condescendingly.

“You can’t do anything for me right now?” She asked. “I’m planning on being here for another three months. The fatigue is overwhelming. I need something so I can function and do my job.” She said.

“Do you have your birth control medication with you?” He asked. She flipped out the oval packet with the perfect circle of tablets. He eyed them and handed them back scribbling as he turned.

“You’re health care benefits don’t apply here in the U.K., you see.” He said and he looked pointedly at her.

“I see. It’s a cash only business.” Chelsea said cynically.

“Sterling.” He said in a chipper tone as he continued scribbling. “We’ll have to do a full blood work-up.”

“Can I come back?” She asked as she tried to strategize how she could pay for the new medication.

“Certainly.” He replied amiably as he reached into his white coat and produced a card.

“Just ring us up.” He said and smiled and then turned on his heel and left Chelsea alone to dress in the examination room. She sat there and a cascade of disappointment rolled over her. She could not understand why. The pregnancy had been an obstacle. But now that it had magically vanished she was experiencing loss. She could still taste Ashley on her lips and whatever soap she used mingled with her own scent stayed with Chelsea. She could smell Ashley in her hair. And somehow she thought if she wished hard enough that perhaps the pregnancy would have been the hinge that glued she and Ashley together. She fantasized that as a result of their lovemaking the child she would produce would be wholly theirs, not Scott’s. She imagined with poignant accuracy the visual characteristics that were hers and the ones that were genetically her partner’s. She had somehow subconsciously grown excited at the idea of this child being the perfect combination of Chelsea and Ashley. Intellectually she knew that it was a biological impossibility, but she could dream. And now her dreams were gone and she wondered if, perhaps, this is what it felt like to miscarry. As the tears subsided a wave of fatigue enveloped her and she wondered if Ashley had come back to the hotel to find her missing. She grabbed her phone and texted: “Couldn’t wait. I’m at the doctor’s. xo, C”

Ashley had just stepped back onto the elevator at the Savoy when her phone buzzed signifying that she had just gotten a text. She figured it was Felix so she’d check it later. Fumbling for the room key she exited on her floor carrying the coconut soup. As the door to the suite swung open she was met with silence.

“Chelsea?” She said in a regular tone. “Chelsea!”

There was no answer. It was odd and as she sat down she wondered if maybe Chelsea decided to meet with Scott again. The thought of it tore at her and she felt her stomach ache. Where could she have gone and why didn’t she call? She wondered. Then her mind began to meander to those scary places. What if she had a medical emergency? She wondered. She called the concierge from the room phone.

“Good Morning. How can I help you?” A friendly voice answered.

“Yes. I was wondering if there were any emergencies here on the top floor this morning?” Ashley asked.

“Emergencies?” The woman reiterated.

“Yes. My friend wasn’t feeling well and I’ve come back to the room to find her gone.” Ashley explained.

“There have been no emergencies here at the hotel. Perhaps, she made her way to a clinic.” The woman replied cheerfully.

“Yes---okay, thank you.” Ashley said and she hung up the phone. Just then Ashley recalled the text noise her cell had made. She quickly grabbed it from her purse just as the door to the room swung open. Chelsea stood there pale and about to unravel. Ashley froze.

“Are you okay?” Ashley asked not moving afraid that her world might collapse.

“No---yes…and no.” Chelsea said softly like a child as she shuffled over to one of the canopy beds. Ashley laid her phone down and waited. Chelsea sat down on the edge of the bed and stared blankly at the stone wall.

“I’m not pregnant.” She whispered deflated.

There was a part of Ashley that wanted to jump for joy but she could not. Somehow Chelsea’s emotions carried over and although intellectually she was glad that her friend would not be burdened with a child, she was also aware that a part of her wanted a child.

She sat down next to her and took her hand.

“I…I understand.” Ashley said and they sat there for some time in silence as the business of London drifted up off the streets and into their space.

“I dreamt it was…ours.” Chelsea said and she felt herself slowly submerge into tears.

“Oh, now. It’s okay. It’s all right. If you really want to have a child you can. You’re young enough and…” Ashley said trying to comfort her.

“No…I mean….really ours.” Chelsea said as she looked straight into Ashley’s eyes. Ashley understood completely.

“Well we can try.” Ashley chuckled hoping a little levity would help the situation. Just at that moment Chelsea’s eyes moved to Ashley’s hair. She wore a look of amazement.

“What?” Ashley asked. “What is it?”

“You’re gray.” She said still taking in her friend’s appearance.

“Yeah, I need to color my hair.”

“Don’t!” Chelsea said. “It’s more gray than I remember from last night even.”

Ashley got up and looked in the mirror and she was awestruck herself. The hair at her temples had turned color almost overnight. She was indeed gray and almost white.

“Wow.” She whispered as she pulled her hand through her mane.

“I like it.” Chelsea said smiling.

“Do you think it’s the Thai soup?” Ashley asked. Chelsea shrugged. She retrieved the sustenance encased in a plain white paper sack.

“I already had mine.” Ashley said. “I made an appointment to see Dame Chelsea Thornton this afternoon.”

“I think I might stay behind.” Chelsea said and her eyes were growing heavy. “I’m just so tired.”

“Sure. Sure. Take a nap and I’ll be back by eight and we’ll have a nice supper on the town.” Ashley replied.

Richard awoke with a start. He rubbed his eyes and found Victoria sitting at the end of the room at a small servant’s desk as the winter sunlight bathed her in an almost whitish glow.

“What are you doing, dear?” He said softly as he cleared the sleep from his voice.

“Making notes.” She said without lifting her head. “I must contact Stanford White about the house. Repairs should begin by mid-April for it to be habitable by the end of the summer.” She said and her forehead crinkled with determination. “We shall have to spend our anniversary elsewhere I’m afraid…Perhaps Paris?” She giggled.

Richard looked about and found that Mr. Watkins and Mrs. Hopkins had already dressed and begun the day.

“They’re at breakfast, dear.” Victoria said and she finally looked up and smiled at him.

“I was waiting for you.” And her words cascaded over him like a memory from the future. It echoed and resounded with potent meaning and revelation. He sat down in a small cane chair next to her. She ran her fingers tenderly through his hair and she gazed at his temples.

“So distinguished.” She whispered and she smiled revealing a part of herself that Richard had not fully seen before.

“You’ve been through so much.” She said almost to herself but trying to explain the increase of white in his hair. But Richard was well aware why his hair was turning gray so fast. It was not stress or trauma or fear, but rather knowing. She gazed down at his hands and noticed the orange thread wrapped about his index finger. She pulled at it and he seemed protective.

“Saving threads from my scarf?” She said lightly.

“Yes.” He replied leaving no explanation.

“Whatever for?” She asked.

“So I won’t forget.” He said teasingly.

“What is it that you might forget, dear?” She replied inquisitively.

“What you’ll look like in one hundred and twenty two years.” He replied enigmatically. She laughed but there was something very real to his words and she knew deep down that he was telling the truth. She gazed out of the window over the white landscape and the river in the distance. The way the light reflected off her porcelain skin reminded Richard of the halos that the renaissance masters used to paint in a bygone era.

“We’re finally going home.” She said in a dreamy tone as if they had been away for years.

“Yes, we’re going home.” He said and he kissed her tenderly.

Ashley parked her rented Vespa and quickly walked into the Assisted living residence where Dame Chelsea Thornton lived. As she moved to the circular ‘concierge’ in the lobby she noticed that Delilah was sitting there.

“Delilah, would you please let Dame Thornton know that I am here for my appointment.” She said sweetly without ever looking her in the eyes.

Delilah hissed, got up and disappeared for a moment. Ashley took in the grand hall that was the foyer. Various etchings and engravings lined the dark oak walls. It seemed more in keeping with an exclusive Victorian men’s club than a contemporary home for the aged. Suddenly a young nurse appeared. She was not dressed the requisite white or green scrubs. Her attire was for a formal dinner. The only clue that she was a nurse was her name tag.

“Maggie Cummings.” She said as she stretched out her hand warmly. “Dame Thornton is very excited to see you…Right this way.” They walked down the elegant hallway that Ashley had remembered the night before but turned right into a large sunroom. Dame Chelsea was sitting in a wheelchair next to the window reading the London Times.

“Ah, my protege! Maggie you are a dear. Thank you.” The Dame said warmly. Maggie smiled and petted her hand.

“If you need anything just ring.” Maggie said as she smiled at Ashley and vanished leaving them to their private conversation.

“You’ve seen him.” The Dame said and she patted the chair next to her signifying Ashley to sit.

“Him.” Ashley reiterated unsure whether or not to speak of the experience.

“Grandfather.” The dame said. Ashley slowly nodded as she sat.

“I knew it.” And her eyes took in Ashley’s graying hair. “Soon there will be no demarcation.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” Ashley said confused.

“You seek the grail.” The Dame smiled.

“Actually I came to talk to you about learning the Rhys paintings.” Ashley said.

“I gave you the order. The rest falls upon you, dear.” She replied.

“Yes, I know. But for me to stay in London for the required length of time I was wondering if it might be all right for Chelsea and I to stay at the Hyde Park residence?”

“Why certainly. I suggested it last night. I don’t know why you’re staying in that old hotel. I shall ring Mr. Wilkins and let him know to expect you this evening for dinner.” The Dame said and her smile was supple and young and her eyes bright as if she were twenty years old again.

“You realize you are everlasting, grandfather.” She continued. And the words gave Ashley pause. “You’ve met the one who holds.”

Again Ashley slowly nodded unsure of the words and yet quite sure of the meaning.

“The grail holds.” The Dame continued. Then she took Ashley’s hands in hers and gazed at her intently. A smile bloomed across her face.

“I want to come back, grandfather.” She said softly as if revealing the ultimate secret. “Will you visit me again?”

Ashley nodded yes.

“There is much to learn.” The Dame continued then she turned toward the window and the sunlight and closed her eyes. Ashley got up and placed the small blanket across the Dame’s lap and tiptoed out.