“Sounds like a stock report,” I said, keeping my cool. “And since you ended up still on the bull, I’d say you came out ahead. You did manage to hang on, didn’t you?”
“Hon,” Gabe said softly, and then leaned so close that I could tell he’d had Grape Nuts for breakfast. “You must admit that was going too far; poor Ma was scared out of her wits. Can you at least acknowledge her pain?”
Her pain? What about everything I’d gone through? There had to be some kind of way to shut her up, to turn her son’s focus from her and onto me, the woman to whom he should be cleaving.
While I have been known to think fast on my very large feet, I must now, in all humility, confess that I’m also pretty good whilst doing naught but occupying a prone position. On second thought, my marital life is none of your business. Now where was I? Oh yes, the point I wanted to make is that just because I was bedridden didn’t mean I was bereft of ideas.
“Oh, Ida,” I gushed, “I almost forgot. As mayor of Hernia, it is my pleasure to inform you that you are going to be awarded our very first Medal of Honor.”
There were several suitable gasps, but Ida’s was not among them. “A medal?” she croaked. “For vhat?”
“For meddling, of course-well, that and riding that fearsome Holstein through the gloam and bracken while I just sat idly by and watched the kidnappers turn themselves in.”
“Mags,” Gabe hissed, “now you’re mocking her.”
I pretended to stare at the ceiling. “Is there any chance-any chance at all-that the gander will see that what’s good for one goose is also good for the other? If not, perhaps this flock should disband while they all three seek counseling.” As I waited for him to reply, I drummed on my tum-tum with my fingers.
“You guys, please stop fighting,” Alison said.
The pain inflicted by her words was similar to that of being stabbed with a Teflon spatula. It hurt like the dickens, but I knew it wasn’t fatal, just as I knew my marriage could be saved if Gabe and I both committed ourselves to working on it.
“We’re not fighting, dear,” I hastened to assure my chosen child. “Your dad and I are merely negotiating our priorities.”
“Maybe you are,” my love buckets said, “but I’m not.” He grabbed his sainted mother’s elbow. “Come on, Ma, let’s go home and wait for Magdalena to call with her apology.”
“He’s only kidding,” I said in a loud, unrecognizable voice. “Tell her that you’re just joshing. Tell her how you managed to sneak past Nurse Ratched.”
“I didn’t sneak past anyone,” Gabe said. “There was no one at the door.”
As if on cue, the door burst open and a beaming Agnes billowed into the room. Hard on her heels was Dr. Rashid.
“You’re not going to believe it, Magdalena,” my buddy boomed.
“Believe what?” I said, as I watched my cuddle bunny slip from the room. He was holding his mother’s hand.
“Magdalena, there is something I must tell you.” Dr. Rashid’s voice was like a wind chime that was being stroked by the softest of breezes.
“Talk away, dear; the stage is all yours.”
“But first we must get your husband back into the room.”
“Whatever it is, you can tell him later.”
“Perhaps. But surely you want the others to leave.”
“Oh no, they stay. Now out with it, because you’re making me antsy. Is it the big C?”
On any given day, Dr. Faya Rashid was a spectacularly beautiful woman, but at the moment her normally symmetrical features were twisted like a gargoyle’s. She cleared her throat three times before attempting to speak.
“I- Oh, my gracious, this is very difficult to explain.”
“Give it the old college try, dear.”
“Miss Yoder, there was an oversight at the lab; a serious mistake was-uh-made.”
“Quelle surprise. But just so you know, I harbor no ill feelings. I will, of course, be buried in Settlers’ Cemetery up on Stucky Ridge. That part is not negotiable. And the epitaph on my headstone is going to read gone home. But outside of that, I’m quite flexible-by that I mean that if there is anything in my service that you think would offend a woman of your religious persuasion, I’m willing to consider revising my plans. Although I don’t anticipate a problem, given as how I’m already stripping it of its essential Christian character in order to accommodate an ungrateful husband.”
“No, Miss Yoder-”
I grabbed Alison’s hand and squeezed tightly. “Don’t you worry for a minute, dear. We won’t stop praying for a miracle. All things are possible with God.”
“You can say that again,” Agnes blurted, and in the most inappropriate of tones.
I gave my friend an appropriately stern look and got back to business. “Where is the big C, Doc? I want to visualize the location when I pray.”
“But you don’t have cancer, Miss Yoder!”
“Don’t be silly. Of course I do.”
“Listen to me,” she said, sounding impatient for the first time since we’d met over a year ago. “You don’t have cancer; you are pregnant.”
“Very funny, Doc, but not very believable, since I know it says right there on my chart that I’m forty-eight years old. Besides, I haven’t had a period in-oh my gracious, oh my soul! Is it really possible?”
She nodded. “Because of your-uh-enhanced age, the lab did not bother to do the simple pregnancy test. For that, I deeply apologize.”
“Me and my enhanced age accept your apology,” I heard myself say. I’m sure I hadn’t moved my lips, but what did I know for sure anymore?
“Magdalena,” Dr. Rashid said, and took my other hand, “the fetus is very strong, just as you are a strong woman. I think it is possible for you to have this baby.” She paused, while she squeezed my hand. “Now I will ask you a question, and you must be honest with your answer.”
“Aren’t I always?” Alas, no one laughed. “Shoot, Doc.”
“Shoot?”
“Spit it out!”
“But I have no gum.”
“Your question. Ask me already.”
“Ah yes, the American English. The question is: have you been eating properly?”
“Of course-well, that depends on one’s definition of properly. But that would be a cultural one, right? We speakers of the American English eat far too much.”
Susannah thumped the mattress next to my pillow. “Just answer her question, Mags.”
“Okay! You don’t need to be rude about it. Look, Doc, I might not have been indulging in three squares lately on account of I haven’t been feeling exactly shipshape. Actually, I kind of feel like I’m on a ship, and the sea’s a bit choppy, but then what would I know what that feels like, given that I’ve never been on a ship? Well, not a proper one, at any rate. Once, when I visited Charleston, I took a harbor cruise. It lasted all of three very miserable hours.”
“That means she ain’t been eating,” Alison said, “because her tummy’s upset, and she wants to puke a lot.”
“I see. This is a classic symptom of early pregnancy, but there are things we can try that might help.”
“Wait a minute,” Susannah said, “from what I heard, she fainted on her wedding night. That means she was already pregnant-”
“Way to go, Mom!”
I glared at the girl whose life I was in charge of molding. “Shame on you, dear. I was most certainly not pregnant then.”
“But Auntie Susannah said you fainted,” she whined.
“That was most probably stress,” Dr. Rashid said softly. “I too fainted on my wedding night. I think maybe this fact contributed to my unfortunately delayed diagnosis. Again, I apologize.”
My heart was pounding with excitement and indescribable joy. Perhaps two hearts were pounding.
“Doc, do you really think I can give birth to a healthy baby?”
“Inshallah-if it is God’s will.”
I looked wildly around the room, stupidly searching for the Babester.
Of course he wasn’t there. But I just knew-from the top of my bun, to the tips of my extraordinarily long toes-that he would get back on board just as soon as he heard the good news.
If only he were here now! At any rate, I wasn’t given much time to stew in my own juices.
“I’m finally going to be an aunt,” Susannah said.
“And I’m going to have a baby sister,” Alison said. “Hey, the little brat better not get into my stuff.”
“Mazel tov,” Freni said.
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