It seems as if she is trapped in a night terror as she secures her hair into an uncharacteristically tight English braid that travels down her back. One hand haphazardly sprays hairspray as her mind wanders. The attire she wears is every bit as dark as the emotions she locks in the deep freeze of her soul. Today she swaps her typical frock for black tapered slacks with a crisp crease down the middle of each leg. Paired with a black button down blouse, and ankle high boots she nearly appears to be nothing more than a mere mortal.
Hecate locates her counterpart at the bus stop bench, waiting. Dimity has already secured her broomstick. She shoots Hecate a questioning look with one cocked brow.
"When do you ride in on your broomstick a minute late?"
She offers a heavy sigh as she smooths her hunter green blouse, "Given the circumstance a minute late is nothing preferable to the alternative."
"The car should be here any second. Remind me why it is necessary to travel by car?"
"To maintain the façade, and because an hour-long broomstick rise may not end on a positive note if one of us finds ourselves accessorizing with emesis."
The clinic waiting room is utterly void of clients when they arrive. They both check in under pseudonyms and provided forged documentation to support their charade. The walls are painted a cheerful shade of yellow reminiscent of butternut squash. The staff is overly exuberant for the early hour. They have barely managed to complete the paperwork that has been doled out when Hecate shoots out of her chair.
"The bathroom is around the corner. Walk!" Dimity reminds her.
Hecate exits the waiting room, and makes it to the main corridor four paces away. The bathroom is located less than ten paces away. The emesis finds its way to the fake greenery two paces from the bathroom. Once she is certain that no one else is around she waves her hand and makes the evidence disappear. The more she contemplates vanishing evidence the more her stomach churns.
By the time she has returned to the waiting room Dimity has already disappeared. A nurse appears amongst the doorway clad in uniform, and accessorized with a megawatt smile, and a horrendously bright pastel uniform.
"Joy," she calls in a sickeningly sweet tone.
As Hecate lies on the exam table staring at cream colored ceiling tiles she tries to recall a more disheartening day. Between the HVAC system, and the paper gown she finds herself suffering from a case of piloerection. In an attempt to discount the physical distress, she returns her focus to emotional anguish. Any past misstep on her part pales in comparison to this. Her patience is thin and she finds herself emotionally drained as the support staff finish what seems like an endless list of questions. Finally she snaps.
"None of this matters. I do not intend to continue… in this state."
The youthful appearing, yet well-seasoned nurse does not even begin to have her feathers ruffled by such a response. She offers a look of reassurance.
"I know the questionnaire is lengthy and that there are details that can be incredibly difficult to discuss. We always obtain the historical questions prior to any of the other assessments for a reason. There is no way to measure the impact hosting another human being can have on someone. I am not here to frustrate, or dissuade you in any way."
"Please continue. I apologize for my momentary lapse of patience. I am fully apprised of the fact you are simply attending to your prescribed duties."
"Those were all of the questions."
"Finally a reprieve."
An eternity passes her by as she lies on an exam table. Ultimately the stiff, harsh silence that has enveloped the room is broken. The sound of a heartbeat plays rhythmically, and interrupts any train of thought that Hecate has been riding. She chides herself for wanting to look, as she is reminded curiosity killed the cat. Conflict takes place in the form of her heartstrings colliding with her delicate ego.
"I am afraid that an embryo at this stage doesn't look like anything much more than a lima bean."
Her hazel orbs flit upward in the direction of a large screen. Hecate is transfixed by the image that stares back at her. Her breath hitches as her thoughts spin like a tilt-a-whirl. The images from the screen begin printing nearby. A sinking feeling whispers that the image she has just seen will go on to haunt her.
The return trip to Cackle's is utter crickets. Hecate slips some bills into the driver's hand, and exits the vehicle. Dimity follows closely behind her. She takes a seat on the bus bench as Dimity collects her broomstick. Hecate retches into the bushes, narrowly missing her own broomstick. Dimity abandons her post, and finds a seat next to her colleague. A travel sized bottle of mouthwash suddenly appears. Hecate adamantly shakes her head.
"The scent only makes matters worse."
The bottle of mouthwash disappears, and a bottle of water appears in its place. A simple swish and spit is not enough to motivate Miss Hardbroom to mount her broomstick.
"You are aware of the fact that the silent version of you is far more terrifying than the typical everyday Hecate, right?"
"It is not my intent to be obtuse. It occurs to me am not the only one who is having this wretched experience. Have today's events offered you any clarity?"
"I am not as deliberate as you are about every choice that I make. I have been waffling about this decision for weeks. At the end of the day I keep coming back to the thought that an embryo did not ask to be created. The circumstances are utterly atrocious, and under other circumstances the choice would be quite simple, for me. I can't really fathom how I am going to manage, but I am going to go through with remaining in my current state. Motherhood has always been something that I have wanted to experience."
"I have never wanted to be anyone's mother. I find the task utterly daunting. I have deep misgivings that I would be of a reasonable caliber for the role. Small children are daft, or dull. I have seen less concerning fluids come out of the bottom of the first year's cauldrons."
"I am not here to question your choices. No one has any right to judge the decisions you have made for yourself. What's done is done."
Hecate purses her lips, and subtly shakes her head, "Nothing has been done. Nothing will be done. I…" tears cascade down her face like a waterfall. Hecate accepts Dimity's hug as she violently sobs.
"I'm right here," Dimity reassures her.
Hecate draws a sharp breath, and Dimity releases her. Hecate dabs her face with a black handkerchief.
"I feel especially foolish. I thought that logic, and reason would be enough to support my original decision."
"So what changed your mind?"
"You can call it by any term, but there is no denying a beating heart that you have had a hand in creating."
"We should get back before Ada concludes we have taken too long."
"She instructed me to ensure we took our time. Quite frankly I doubt that she is in the dark on the matter."
"You think that the nurse violated our confidence?"
"Dimity don't be daft. After all, she has known us for decades. I am certain that she has some inkling that we are not ourselves. Or rather we are more than our typical selves."