Twice in a Lifetime

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  She leaned toward him as though to kiss him, but he shook his head with a grin. “Only if you’ll marry me. Next year? Next month? Next week? I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Okay, I’ll marry you—I want to marry you.” She stopped talking, as though amazed at her discovery. “But before I agree, there’s one thing I need you to do.”

  “Anything. You name it.”

  “Stop buying me plants.” She smiled, looking so beautiful that he badly wanted to kiss her. “I’m just going to kill them—accidentally, of course.”

  “What?” André blinked in surprise. “You don’t like them?”

  She shook her head. “Marc was the one who liked plants, and since he’s not going to be watering them, I think it’s time we found something else . . . for us.”

  “Okay, you have a deal.”

  “Then kiss me, André.” Her silky voice slid over him, an invitation he wasn’t going to resist. Smiling, he gathered his future wife into his arms.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  After a peaceful and subdued Christmas season, January came more rapidly than Rebekka had expected. At the end of the second week, she and André were quietly married in a ceremony at the church with only family present. Because of the pain from the cyst, Rebekka needed help getting to the church and to get dressed, and she had to remain seated during most of the ceremony. Despite this, when the bishop pronounced them husband and wife, Rebekka felt happy. Wonder filled her as their kiss seemed to penetrate into her very soul, with no beginning or end. The warmth in her heart testified that marrying André didn’t mean she didn’t love Marc or miss him, but that she could love again and be happy.

  When the ceremony concluded, André took her to the new apartment they were buying, a place that didn’t contain daily memories of either Claire or Marc. A home where they could build their own memories together. Their honeymoon trip would have to wait until after the baby was born; Rebekka was in so much pain now she could barely get out bed.

  Weeks passed and Rebekka grew larger and more uncomfortable. At times her suffering was almost unbearable and when she cried, André would hold and comfort her. Having gone through two previous pregnancies with Claire, he was sensitive to things Rebekka was embarrassed to voice. He was also willing to be near her when she wanted him near, yet gave her space when she needed to be alone.

  Rebekka’s love for André grew, as did her love for the girls. She enjoyed having them sit on her bed while she combed their hair or while she read to them from their favorite books. As they promised, they were well-behaved and even ate their peas on the one night Rebekka’s mother made the vegetable.

  The second week of February, when Rebekka was eight months along, Valerie came over to make dinner because André had to work late. They had been enjoying a conversation in the master bedroom, but Rebekka asked Valerie to help her to the living room sofa.

  “Are you sure?” Valerie asked doubtfully.

  “I’ve taken a pain pill, so I should be able to do it.” A few weeks earlier, Rebekka had been forced to ask the doctor for medication because the pain had become so bad. The pills cut the sharp razor edge off the pain, but she tried to take them sparingly. She’d learned to deal with the pain so well that sometimes during the brief moments of respite after taking the medicine, she felt almost completely well.

  “Please, Valerie,” she said. “Everyone’s coming over tonight to celebrate the adoption, and since I couldn’t attend the ceremony, it would be nice to see everyone while I’m not in bed.”

  With Valerie on one side and Ana on the other, Rebekka made her way to the living room. Tears leaked from her eyes at the ensuing pain—despite the medication—but she bit her lip and endured it in silence.

  In the large sitting room, she sank to the sofa, darting a longing glance at her baby grand. Now that she had enough space, she’d finally moved it from her parents’ apartment, leaving the smaller upright at her old place for her brother, who played only marginally well. She longed to touch the keys but knew the price would be too high. After the baby comes, she consoled herself.

  She’d made the effort earlier in the day to fix her hair and put on a gold-colored dressing gown that brought out the red highlights in her dark hair. The gown was at least a bit dressy and cheered her up, though she suspected she looked rather like a round, gold Christmas ball.

  Don’t think about it! she thought with a sigh. One more month, and she’d worry about it. She was almost there—what could happen in a month? Too much of course. Rebekka shook off a sudden feeling of unease.

  When André arrived home, Rebekka heard him greet the girls and then head directly to the bedroom. “No, Daddy,” Marée said, laughing. “She’s in the sitting room.”

  “She looks pretty,” Ana added.

  André came into the room alone, surprise on his face. He crossed the steps to the sofa, where he stooped and kissed her. “You look wonderful.”

  “Thank you,” she said, deciding not to mention her resemblance to a Christmas ornament. “I was tired of being in bed.”

  “I bet.” His hands went to her stomach, smoothing the gold material over her swollen belly. “Hi, little guy,” he said, bringing his head close. “Are you about done in there?”

  Rebekka smiled. “I wish.”

  “I can hardly wait for him to come out.” André poked her stomach, obviously hoping to feel the baby kick back. “I mean, the girls have been great, but I can’t imagine what it’ll be like to have baby boy. Thierry came to me already grown.”

  Rebekka felt a melancholy she couldn’t name. This time it didn’t seem to be related to Marc missing out on his baby son, so much as André finally having one. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, ever aware of her feelings.

  “It’s just hormones,” she said. “Just hormones.”

  * * *

  The extended Perrault family arrived after dinner out to celebrate the official adoption of Celisse Marie Portier and Raquel Nadia Portier. Rebekka was glad that Marie-Thérèse and Josette kept an eye on their children and seemed to organize the desserts without effort on her part—not that she could have risen from the sofa if she’d tried. During the last minutes of the party, she was seeing double with the pain and the boring solitude of her room was beginning to look appealing.

  At last André stood and made an announcement. “I think it’s time we adjourned this party or moved it to another location. I need to get all three of my girls to bed—especially Rebekka.”

  “Well, since it’s Wednesday and not a weekend, we’d better call it a night,” Marie-Thérèse agreed. “The kids all have school tomorrow. Thanks everyone for coming to the courthouse today and supporting us. And thank you for having us here tonight, Rebekka.”

  Rebekka laughed weakly. “Hey, don’t thank me, it was the only way I could get in on things.”

  “You’ll be better soon,” Josette said. “But I remember that last month is the worst—even without a cyst. No way I’m ever doing that again.” She smiled sweetly at her husband, as if urging him to agree.

  He shrugged. “Whatever you want, honey. It’s up to you.”

  “I’ll be here on Monday to help with dinner,” Ariana said as she took her husband’s arm.

  “Thanks, Mom.” André kissed his mother’s cheeks. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.” Rebekka echoed his words.

  “Nonsense, it’s a pleasure,” Ariana said. “I love spending time here. Well, come on gang. Let’s leave Rebekka to get some rest.”

  The family filtered out and the apartment was abruptly quiet. “Come on,” André said. “Let’s get you to bed. Girls, you run on ahead and change into your pajamas.”

  “And brush your teeth!” Rebekka called after them.

  André came in from her right side and picked Rebekka up. They had learned this was the position that gave her the least pain. “I’d better stop eating or you won’t be able to lift me at all,” she murmu
red.

  He snorted. “Rebekka, you don’t weigh much. You just can’t see beyond this stomach, that’s all. It’s all baby. Well, and the cyst too, I guess. It’s not you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’ve been through this before.”

  “Claire was this fat?”

  “You are not fat. You’re pregnant.”

  “Same thing,” Rebekka muttered under her breath.

  He was passing the kitchen doorway now, and she was counting the steps to the bedroom. Maybe she could take another pill. Just one more so she could sleep. Surely that wouldn’t hurt the baby. Hours had passed since she had taken the last one. But no, she’d better not.

  Abruptly, André stopped. “Look,” he whispered. Taking a few steps back, he set her down gently, still supporting a portion of her weight.

  Rebekka stared into the kitchen, where her brother was kissing Valerie. “I thought everyone went home,” she said softly.

  “Evidently, someone forgot to tell them the party’s over. Wow, that’s some kiss!”

  As they watched from the hall, Valerie took her hands from Raoul’s hair. “Would you stop stalling already? Ask me!”

  “Valerie, I love you so much. Will you marry me?”

  “No,” she said in a teasing tone.

  “What’s wrong? Oh, I know.” Raoul fell to his knees, his face grave and his eyes soulful. “Please? I can’t live without you. Will you marry me?”

  Valerie bent down and kissed him, long and hard. “Oh, yes. Now I’ll marry you. Of course I will.” They were in each other’s arms in another instant. André whistled and Rebekka laughed.

  Raoul and Valerie turned to look at them. Valerie appeared slightly embarrassed, but Raoul was triumphant. “She said yes. She’s going to marry me!”

  “So we heard,” André said. “But when?”

  The smile on Raoul’s face vanished as he turned urgently to Valerie. “When?”

  Valerie smiled and took his hand. “How about after Rebekka’s baby comes? I’d like her to be able to come to the wedding.”

  “Let’s see,” Raoul said. “The baby’s supposed to be here in a month. That would make it the middle of March. How about the second week in April? Will that give you enough time to recover, Rebekka?”

  Rebekka nodded, though the pain was so intense now that she couldn’t see her brother’s face. Darkness ate steadily at the edges of the light she could still see.

  “Two months,” Raoul went on. “That seems like a lifetime. It’s too bad we couldn’t—”

  “André,” Rebekka murmured, clutching onto his shirt. “The baby.”

  Abruptly, her world exploded into an endless, burning, blinding pain. Then darkness swallowed everything.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Words filtered through as Rebekka’s unconscious mind fought its way back to lucidity. “It’s grown as big as a grapefruit now . . . only partially burst . . . torsion . . . causing the additional pain . . . drug ought to help . . . must have surgery . . . important not to wait any longer.”

  Rebekka knew the words didn’t come from a nightmare, but from the doctor.

  Not now! she thought. Oh please not now!

  She’d believed with her whole heart that the cyst would go away on its own, or if it didn’t that at least there would be no danger to her or the baby. Then came that terrible, blinding explosion of pain at her apartment.

  The memory of the agony she’d experienced brought her fully awake.

  “She’s coming around.” It was André speaking, but when she opened her eyes, she saw Raoul’s face.

  “What time is it?” she asked groggily.

  “It’s near noon on Thursday,” Raoul supplied. “I was here last night with Mom and Dad, but you were sleeping.”

  Rebekka looked around and saw that she was in a hospital bed, hooked up to several different monitors. She could feel the baby inside, so she was still pregnant. She rolled from her side to her back, trying to sit up.

  “Here, let me help you,” André said from her other side. “Take it slowly. It might not be good.”

  For the cyst. Rebekka heard the words he didn’t say and the reality came rushing back. “What are we going to do?” she moaned. “It’s too soon.”

  André took her hand, hesitating as if choosing his words carefully. “I don’t feel we really have a choice. We’ve waited this long because the baby could have too many complications being born so early, but that risk is gone, pretty much. He still could have some complications if the surgery caused him to come, but you can’t go through this pain anymore. I think we should agree to the surgery.”

  Knowing André as she did, and how much he loved both her and the baby, she had no doubts that he was right. Besides, whatever medication they had given her must have been strong because Rebekka wasn’t feeling much of anything now.

  How good is that for my baby? she wondered. A tear squeezed out of her eye. “When?”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  Rebekka gave a short sob, and Raoul stepped closer, rubbing her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re all here for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  André smiled at him. “Would you go tell your parents and my own that she’s awake? I think they’re wearing out the carpet in the waiting room.”

  “Sure.” Raoul gave Rebekka’s shoulder one last pat. “I’ll see you later.”

  After he left, André sat on the edge of the bed and put an arm around her. He kissed her forehead gently.

  “Is he going to be okay?” she asked, desperately wanting reassurance.

  André pointed to a monitor. “They turned the sound down, but that’s his heartbeat. It’s coming from the belt they put around your waist. Looks strong to me. I think we have every chance to get that cyst out and finish your pregnancy without a hitch. Or that if there is a complication, he’ll come through just fine.”

  “Good,” Rebekka said tearfully. “Because I’m so afraid.”

  “I’ll be right there when you wake up,” he promised. “I’ll be the one holding your hand.”

  * * *

  Waiting held an agony all its own. André paced in the entire length of the room. I should be there for her, he thought. The doctor hadn’t allowed his presence, though because of her pregnancy Rebekka would receive only a local anesthetic and would be awake during the procedure. André had to be content with giving her a blessing and kissing her for courage.

  A hand massaged his shoulder, and he looked up to see Raoul. “She’s going to be okay,” he said. “My sister’s tough.”

  André smiled but knew the gesture lacked conviction. He’d felt so strongly when he had prayed that surgery was the only choice, but when he’d given Rebekka a blessing earlier that morning, the reassurance he had been expecting about the baby’s safety hadn’t come.

  “There’s no use in torturing yourself. They’ll be out soon.” His mother motioned for him to sit. André was glad his family was there and even happier that he had married Rebekka when he had. She’d needed him this past month, and he wouldn’t trade one moment of their time together. He shuddered to think of the loneliness and despair she would have felt if she had not opened her heart to him.

  We won, Marc, he thought to his brother. Now if only we can get through this last month.

  “Monsieur Perrault?” A nurse stood in the doorway.

  He leapt to his feet. “Is she all right?”

  “The cyst is out, but there’s been a complication.”

  André heart plunged as he listened in dread for the next words. How many times had he read stories in the newspapers about people dying from relatively simply surgeries? No! his mind screamed, I can’t live without her.

  “The baby’s coming,” the nurse continued. “We’re not sure what caused the labor. The doctor has tried to stop it, but . . .” She shrugged delicately.

  “My wife?” As much as André loved and looked forward to the birth of her child, Rebekka wa
s his primary concern. She made him complete. He’d spent many weeks carefully tending and courting her, waiting for the time when she would be healed from grief enough to give herself to him fully. There was so much promise in their love. He couldn’t lose her now.

  “She’s asking for you.”

  He sighed with relief, but his heart still pounded in his ears.

  “Can I come too?” Danielle asked. “I’m her mother.”

  “Yes, come along, both of you.”

  Over his shoulder, André saw his parents and Rebekka’s father Philippe staring after them. Danielle touched his elbow. “Babies are stronger than they appear. Yours will be fine.”

  Her words calmed his heart and put things into perspective. He especially liked the way she had called the baby his. “Yeah, what’s a month?” he said, trying to make his voice light.

  After they scrubbed and donned on white paper gowns, the nurse led them to the operating room where Rebekka lay on a sheet-covered table, looking small in comparison to all the surrounding equipment. Dr. Samain and two nurses stood by her side.

  “The baby’s heart rate is rising again,” a nurse was saying as they walked in the room.

  Dr. Samain looked over at André. “We have to do an emergency caesarean. The labor is going fast, but the baby’s under too much stress. We need him out now.”

  André made a sound in his throat. “I understand,” he said mechanically.

  The doctor gave him a compassionate smile before going to work. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of them.”

  André walked to the front of the bed where Rebekka gazed at him mutely with frightened eyes. He stooped and kissed her cheek. “It’s going to be all right,” he told her with as much assurance as he could muster.