Sarah was at the club pool watching the kids jump from the high dive while balancing her checkbook, when a tremble of recognition tingled down here spine. It couldn't be. She pulled out her calendar, counting over and over. It just wasn't possible. She counted again. Thirty-six days. Too late, just to be irregular. She had never been irregular.
"Sarah, you look how I feel when I see my account statements! What is wrong?" Kate, her "club" friend, slid into the iron chair next to Sarah and handed her a margarita. "Here, from Stephen."
Sarah smiled quickly and waved to the watching bartender. She sipped from the icy drink, and remembered, no alcohol. "I'm fine, Kate, you're right. I was just … er…balancing the checkbook... a little error I hadn't expected."
"Overspend your allowance, sweetie? I still don't believe Dave gets by with that. What are you supposed to be, sixteen?"
Sarah frowned. "He wants to retire early and chase parrots or something in the tropics. He is just careful."
"Careful? He's cheap Sar; don't defend him to me. Retire to the tropics? The man is only 48!"
Sarah started to sip the cold drink, then put it down and jumped up. "Oh my, what time is it? Lacey has piano this afternoon...I've got to go!
Thanks for the drink!" She turned and waved to the bartender. "Thanks Stephan!"
"But..." Kate lifted the full glass and spoke to Sarah's retreating back "...you didn't drink it. Oh well" She poured the froth mixture into her own glass. "Cheers," she said to herself.
It took two more days of worry before Sarah decided to be sure. She drove for an hour to get to the next town's pharmacy, where no one knew her. She bought the test and took it home.
Her hands trembled and she set the holder on the granite counter in her bathroom. She'd waited until Dave had left for the office, pretending to sleep, so she could do it just right. First morning urine was the right way, and no way she could get up and drink coffee without a pit stop first. She locked the door, and took the test tube to the toilet. Thirty seconds later she was setting the timer. She brushed her teeth and was doing her stretches when the timer rang. She remembered how she'd felt when she'd learned Lacey was on the way; thrilled but so terrified she'd actually hid beneath the covers on the bed while Dave laughed. Dave wasn't here to laugh, but she needed to know.
The magic circle had turned pink. She was forty-four years old, mother of a sixteen year old, and she was pregnant. She let the joy of it bubble up, and for old times sake, crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over her head.
***
Nella had awakened Saturday to the crying again, and stopped for coffee on her way to the clinic. She had pulled the old pickup into her usual spot and turned the key all the way to "accessory" so that she could listen to the gospel station while she finished drinking it. Her fingers ran gently across the silk binding of the blue blanket, bundled on the seat beside her and she hummed, mesmerized by the melody of the music. She watched the door of the clinic and thought about the joy she had to share with them. It had been six weeks already. Time for a check up.
She sipped the steaming coffee and watched as a woman a bit younger than Nella herded her toddler inside, and saw the Mercedes take a spot in the lot. The woman who got out of it was trim and wore a tailored suit in a shade of blue that matched the soft blanket Nella stroked. Nella thought she recognized her from First Methodist. The woman looked around, as though she could feel herself being watched, and Nella caught her eye. She lifted her hand in recognition, and wondered if this woman would listen to her message. It gave Nella joy to bear witness for her Lord, but the woman turned away quickly and hurried inside. Perhaps she needed something for the pain, Nella thought. Saturday was the day for that. She wondered why they could do so much for the mother's and so little for the babies. She knew the babies felt the pain of delivery, why else would there be so much crying?
She finished her coffee and started up the truck. Tomorrow, that was right, after church. Sunday was the day, she was sure. She had an appointment.
****
Sarah had driven to the clinic alone on Saturday. I just need to talk to someone, she thought, pulling the blue Mercedes into the parking lot. Tom had been her doctor for years, and he and Dave played golf on Saturday and she wanted to have all the facts before she broke the news to Dave. This was going to be hardest for him. She pulled the keys from the ignition and wondered if the car would be okay, noting the tall chain link fence surrounding the clinic.
A sign on the door showed the hours of the clinic, only weekends and Wednesday nights. Sarah knew it was run by volunteers; Kate had worked the desk years ago. The reception area was a little shabby, but clean and Sara sat next to a young girl with a toddler on her lap. "Nice shoes," the girl said. "First time here?"
"Yes," Sarah answered. "I just need some… information."
"Yeah, me too," the girl laughed. "Like can I have some drugs this time."
"This time?"
The girl rolled her eyes. "Yeah, this'll be my fourth."
"Oh my! And you look so young. How old are your other kids?"
The girl looked at Sarah as if to decide if she were for real. "This is my only kid. CJ here is nine months.
"Oh."
The receptionist came for Sarah before she could follow up, and led her to an exam room. "Everything off, the gown opens in front."
"Oh dear, no. I don't want an exam. I... I just need to talk to the Doctor."
"Doctor won’t tell you about anything until she does an exam. Flip the switch on the wall, so we'll know when you are ready."
Sarah decided it would be easier to just go along. The room was too cool, the vents right above the exam table, and it occurred to Sarah that a man must have designed it. She undressed and flipped the switch and had just returned to the paper lined exam table when the door opened. "Hello . . .Mrs. . . .Smith . . . I'm Dr. Herman." The graying woman reached out her hand. "How can I help you today?"
Her eyes were kind and she was tall enough to be imposing. "I guess I'm pregnant." Sarah replied.
The doctor laughed. "Well, we can take the guessing out, if that's what you want." Her smile was gentle.
Sarah relaxed. "Its just that . . . I have children, older, teenagers really, and...."
"Mrs. Smith, we will discuss all the options with you once we have the facts, including the option of abortion. I take it you want to terminate your pregnancy?"
Sarah gasped. "Oh my no! It's just . . .well I know that I am old for this and there are problems and I don't want to put my family through the worry, and I'm sure there are all sorts of things that can happen and down syndrome and all and the things they are doing with children with disabilities and all. I'm sorry, I'm rambling, and . . .and I'm kind of embarrassed . . ." Sarah ended on a sob.
"You don't really doubt that you are pregnant do you?" The doctor rubbed her temples; the day was already too long.
"No. It's just like with my daughter, and I took a home test." Sarah suddenly had a feeling of being surplus, out of place, taking up time and space that she wasn't entitled to.
"No surprises anymore are there?" The doctor picked up Sarah's chart and made some notes. "I'm guessing you won't be using us for prenatal care? We don't see many patients from your side of town here."
"Probably not, but my husband's best friend is my normal doctor…" Sarah apologized.
"You haven't told your husband yet." The doctor sighed a "if it isn't one thing it's another" sigh. "Is the baby his?"
Sarah might have been offended, but the doctor hadn't even looked up. She wondered what it was like working in such a place, where choices were made every day that changed lives, and apparently most of them were no. "Maybe I was wrong in coming here," Sarah said. "I just wanted my husband to get to hear the news from me instead of his golfing buddy."
"Mrs… Smith," the doctor stressed her skepticism. "I don't mean to be short with you. I understand that you are nervous. To be honest, I'm kind of sorry you won't be my patient. It isn't very often I get to see someone here actually happy with the news anymore." She smiled and put the chart back in the file. "There is no reason in the world you can't have a healthy child. The medical profession will consider you high risk, but remember it is just risk. There are more winners than losers."
Sarah drove home, playing the scene over and over. She couldn't believe it. After all this time. A baby. She stopped to pick up milk and chocolate, Lacey's current obsession, wanting a peace offering in case she needed it. Feeling closer to the hormones of her firstborn, her eyes filled again as she passed the diapers stacked in bright display, smiling at the silly designs. In her mind and heart, she embraced the tiny embryo.
****
Nella folded the downy blanket into a triangle, tucking the corners in. She swaddled it tight, the way she'd learned. It was supposed to give a sensation of security that calmed, and imparted warm embracing comfort. She looped her own scarf around her collar despite the summer heat, shouldered the bundle and picked up her Bible. She walked in the bright sunlight to the early service at First Methodist, picked up the program in the narthex and turned away from the somber Sanctuary to climb the two flights to the crying room. She laid the soft blue bundle in the crib that was tucked into the corner of the small room and took a seat next to it on the mauve sateen-cushioned pew.
Her family had always been part of the eleven o'clock gray flannel set, but she liked the early service, so separate from the congregation below. It was quiet in the crying room then; most of the new parents preferred to sleep in, and Nella had the room to herself. She breathed deeply of the subtle church scent, of old stone and incense and closed her eyes as the first strains of the processional poured through the speakers provided for the soundproofed room.
The music thrilled her. Faith was no longer a quiet affair for Nella. She practiced it like she would a cheer, lifting her arms in praise and her voice in vibrant song, throwing in a "Hallelujah" or "Amen" whenever there was a chance. No one was happy with Nella's newfound enthusiasm, but Nella didn't care. All she saw was the rapture and there were fewer questions at early service. She had heard the voice of God, and she had been delivered from evil. She left the service after the first hymn. On her way by the crib, she touched her fingers to her lips, then placed them briefly on the quiet bundle as she left the room. There was so much to do.
****
Lacey nibbled on the chocolate bar and twirled her long blonde hair around her finger. "You spoil me mom."
Sarah took the chocolate from her young daughter's hand and laughed, "That's my job Lace, and my pleasure. But you still can't have chocolate for breakfast!"
Lacey hugged her mom close. "You're a good mommy," she said.
Sarah hugged her back, and wondered how Lacey would feel about a little one. She was sure she'd be great with a baby.
Dave though, Dave would be tough. He would need the facts in hand. She knew he would be shocked, maybe even angry at first. She needed to find just the right time, and place and way to break it to him gently. Too bad she hadn't planned it like she had Lacey, because she'd been able to make Dave think starting a family was his idea.
She knew facts were her best ammunition. She decided to drive back to the clinic, hopeful that Dr. Herman would have literature that would graph out the statistics. Dave was a numbers man, and statistics would help. "Lacey, will you and Daddy drive yourselves to church this morning? I think I'll go to the early service so I can go to Sunday school. Dad should be back in plenty of time to change."
"Sure Mom. We'll catch up with you afterwards. "
*****
Nella went home and finished preparing the formula to the tune of Amazing Grace and cooed in the tone that she knew was most soothing. She untaped the disposable diaper and checked it for moisture; it was still dry. She worked quickly and carefully, tying up wires with a delicate touch, as if they were pink ribbons. It was important to be ready for her appointment. Six weeks ago Sunday, she had learned first hand. She tucked her charge into her favorite pink blanket. Then she sat in the rocking chair and waited. She must have dozed, because she woke to crying again. She patted the blanket, and the crying quieted.
She went into her parents' room to say good-bye, and pulled the quilt up under their chins. They would miss church again today it looked like. She noticed that Daddy needed a shave and she wanted to help him get ready. She went to his dresser and picked up his portable shaver, turned it on and touched it to his cheek. The skin swirled under the rotary blades, and pulled into the gears with the short whiskers, clogging the blade. She smoothed the edges of the rotted flesh, and put the razor aside. He didn't turn away or waken; she'd given him enough of the medicine.
She looked at her watch and listened for crying. It was still too early.
She crossed to her mother's side of the bed. She thought of the beautiful church service, and used soft tones to tell her mother about it. Her mother loved church and loved showing Nella off, all dressed up in patent leather Mary Janes as a girl, and then her high school sweaters, and then her dress whites. She'd been so proud of Nella until she found out that what she'd learned in the service. Things about destruction.
Her mother was sensitive, and she wouldn't like the scent in the room. Nella took a bottle of White Shoulders from the vanity and sprayed it into the air. Then she lifted a lock of her mothers hair to spritz it on the pulse points, The clump of hair came off in her hand, so she laid it gently back across her mothers ear. Appearances were so important to her parents, and they had explained that on their way to the clinic. That was when she got the medicine. She was glad they had felt no pain when they had been delivered.
She heard the crying then, and knew it was time to go. She took the pink bundle, and got into the truck. She had time to stop for coffee.
***
The new life she carried made Sarah want to share with the whole world. She had pulled out pictures of her kids to show Dr. Herman. She felt like she'd given her permission to love in that special way, one more time.
Nella finished her coffee just as the blue Mercedes she'd seen the day before pulled into the lot. She got out, left the pick up unlocked, and walked into the clinic.
"Hi, I'm Nella Jones? I was here last month?" she told the receptionist. "Doctor gave me some vitamins and I lost the prescription. Could I get another one please?"
"Let me get your chart. Last month you say?" The receptionist smiled.
"Maybe about six weeks ago. Lose track of time nowadays." She smiled and patted the soft pink bundle she clutched to her shoulder. The woman was still waiting, so Nella nodded and spelled her name.
"Jones is a pretty common name here, it will take me a second to find it." She walked into the second row of files, and Nella laid the pink bundle gently in the chair next to the window, touched her fingers to her lips, then touched them gently to the pink blanket. When the receptionist returned, flustered, to explain that the chart wasn't filed where it should have been, Nella was gone.
Sarah decided she would share the news at brunch. She should be able to make it back to church in time to catch Dave and Lacey after the second service. She was preoccupied and looking at Lacey's cheerleading photo as she walked into the clinic and bumped into Nella at the door.
Nella picked up the pictures that fell from Sarah's grasp, looked Sarah in the eye and said, "God forgive you."
"I'm sorry?" Sarah asked, confused.
Nella pushed open the door, and walked quickly to her truck. Sarah turned to the receptionist, holding Lacey's picture out to share it, and smiled.
Nella was halfway between the church and the clinic, when she felt the shock of the explosions bleed up into the upholstery of her truck. The vibrations shook the stack of pastel blankets on the seat next to her, and they slid toward the floor, but she reached out and caught them. She was so happy; she broke out singing in a joyous Hallelujah.
There would be no procedures today. She had been delivered, again.
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