She plopped down on the chair holding it up in Oliver’s face like trophy exclaiming, “Ah ha!” smiling proudly.
Oliver gave an exasperated grunt and jerked it from her hand. The clatter of it being thrown into the sink made a distinct loud noise, followed by the rattle of silverware and the slamming of the drawer.
Standing behind her, he reached over taking her right wrist and thrusting the fork into her hand.
“Thank you,” she said as he lingered behind her. Instinctively, she took the fork into her left hand. Immediately, he grabbed her hand before she could scoop up the rice and placing it forcefully into her right hand again but not letting go.
He crouched beside her chair again. “I want Sophie to come out now,” he said firmly through his clenched teeth, his patience all but dissolved where Sydney was concerned.
“I can’t just go away; she has to want to come back too, Ollie. Maybe she isn’t ready to come back yet.”
“She’s got no reason not to and every reason to come out and live her life,” he said, letting go of her wrist and moving her hand to her swollen stomach, hoping to make an appeal.
Sydney looked down at him, shifting nervously in the chair.
“This is so uncomfortable, how can she stand this?”
“Then go away if you don’t like it.”
“As a matter of fact, I really don’t.”
“You do realize that it’s technically you’re doing, right?”
“My fault? It takes two Ollie,” she winced, “oohh”.
Provoking her was how Sophie came back before but it was a dangerous game to play in her condition.
“Look at that you’ve upset her,” Sydney said in a whiny voice.
“Sophie?”
“The baby, you git, she’s hurting me now,” struggling to stand up, she faced Oliver again standing looking down at her.
“How do you know it’s a girl, we never found out the sex of the baby.”
“I just know okay. I don’t feel so good.” Oliver noticed the sweat beads on her forehead and that she went pale, plopping back down in the chair. Sydney was rubbing the side of her stomach. Odd since as far as she was concerned it was a separate entity she had no use for.
“Maybe you ate too much curry.”
“Oh, that’s a great dig Ollie. Is that the best you’ve got?”
“No, I mean you probably ate too much. And while we’re on the subject, why would you purposely eat something you know Sophie hates?”
“Is that a real question?” Her face cringed. He watched and waited, she was concentrating on not throwing up, pushing the plate away. After a few minutes, she picked up the train of thought, “I mean, how often do I get to come out and she’s not tasting it, what does she care?”
“I care what you do with Sophie’s body and my child. And her mind for that matter.”
“I told you I wouldn’t come out if she doesn’t go in. This isn’t my fault; if you want to blame someone blame Mariella, stupid cow.”
“So she uses you as a crutch? Is that what you’re saying? You deserve it after using her to do your dirty work.”
“Going to cover this again are we?” Sydney stopped abruptly; she slammed her fist on the table and gritted her teeth, breathing slowly, her eyes closed. Oliver looked at his watch.
Anger dissipated when he realized she was probably actually in labour whether it was the real thing or not, she was in pain. Taking her elbow, he urged her to stand once the pain dissipated and his tone became soft but urgent, appealing to her, “Sydney,” she looked up at him like an animal ready to pounce, breathing heavily, “do you want to go through labour and have this baby?”
“What? Have you completely gone mental now?” He took her hands in his, his thumbs pressing into the palms of her hands, Sydney looked at him bewildered, trying to pull her hands out of his but he grasped firmly, “What are you saying?” It was the first time he saw fear in Sydney’s eyes.
“I think you might be in labour now,” frantically she started to pace, like it was possible to run away from it.
“Relax, there’s time but I know you don’t want to go through this and Sophie would feel terrible if she missed it so can you please, appeal to her and tell her, make her aware, whatever you need to do.”
Panicking, Sydney almost broke into tears, closing her eyes again; she seemed to be concentrating, another pain shooting through her. “I can’t,” she opened her red rimmed eyes, “she won’t and I can’t do this.” She was beginning to hyperventilate.
Oliver was telling her how to breath but she panicked instead, “Sydney! Pay attention, breathe like this.” Once he observed that she was doing as she was told he said, “Okay whatever happens is going to happen, whichever of you gives birth, we have to go to the hospital.” He ran upstairs and grabbed her bag and flung it in the car and then assisting her, he deposited her in the passenger side and buckled her in.
Driving, he was trying to think of anything he could say to get Sophie to come back out, he was yelling at her to come out and deliver their baby but it was no use and Sydney was going to be hard to deal with. It wasn’t going to be the joyful moment he was hoping for if the wrong personality gave birth.
Once at the hospital and among the staff that stayed cool and collected, Oliver trying to coax Sophie out and Sydney yelling at him, she stood by the bed, not yet having dilated enough and not wanting to lie down. Being a doctor he urged them to let him take care of her alone as much as possible knowing Sophie would want less fuss as opposed to more.
He massaged her back but she swiped his hand away growling at him. And he realized that if he really wanted to get technical it was his and Sydney’s baby but the thought made him cringe. He couldn’t speak anymore; there was nothing else to say, he could only deal with the woman he had at the time and the baby that was coming.
Her contractions were coming closer and when one hit particularly sudden, Sydney screamed, “Sophie, this will kill us both!” Her water broke. Oliver knew what she was doing, the threat of something happening to the baby and Sophie was there, panting, her Lamaze kicking in immediately and she whimpered his name like she did in the house but this time she didn’t crumble.
“She told you?” Her chin trembled and he was beside her massaging her back and holding her hand.
“She did and it doesn’t matter now. The baby matters now. Declan and Mariella are gone for good, forever. And our daughter will never have to endure what you did; will never know of it or anything like it, you don’t have to worry.”
“How do you know it’s a girl,” she asked between panting, her face red, and sweating.
“Sydney thinks it is.”
Sophie growled and gave him the look that women in labour give the fathers but it wasn’t just directed at him but the other half of her conscience.
She just looked at him, knowing he spoke the truth. She would feel the pain of what she found out in the contractions and she promised that when they were gone and the baby was there, she would forget about them.
Chapter 45: Oliver and Sophie in the Garden
Oliver sat next to Sophie on the garden chair and then reaching over to let his daughter drowsily grip his pinkie with her tiny hand. Sophie stopped plucking the dead leaves off the plant between them and looked at him and smiled.
She had picked up Sydney’s green thumb and love of plants but when her stomach grew too large, the plants had been abandoned and she had not had a chance to continue with the gardening. Looking between the baby in her arms softly sleeping and Oliver kissing her, Sophie knew for the first time what true contentment was.
“I was thinking,” Oliver announced, pausing to take the baby from her and cradling her in his arms, lovingly pressing his lips to the soft skin of his daughter’s forehead.
Sophie sat beside him so that she could feel the warmth of both of them, placing her head on his shoulder, running her finger along Ava’s dark hair.
“What were you thinking,” Sophie encour
aged him to continue after too long of a silence.
“I thought instead of helping people leave this world, I could help bring them in.” Sophie’s head shot up and one eyebrow rose questioningly.
“Around all those women all the time,” the tone of her voice changing, surprised by her own question.
“Will you be jealous,” he chuckled.
“No,” she lied, knowing he knew she was.
Kissing the top of her head, he could tell she was hesitant about the idea. “I’ve got my girls here at home, that’s all I can handle. I’ll just help bring more of these into the world,” bouncing Ava in his arm. Ava, named after his mother, she was the most beautiful girl in the world because she was his and Sophie’s. “She looks like mum even. I wish you could have met her and she could be here for her granddaughter.” He was sad and happy at the same time. Sophie knew every time he talked about his mother he got emotional. She put an arm around him, resting her head on his shoulder.
The statement lingered heavy between them, his decision not definitive. “Will it be enough for you?”
He knew what she was asking, the understanding between them about what they did as far as ending lives a secret. As Sydney said, Declan was the last, for both of them, both pasts dying with him.
“Admittedly, it will be hard but it will be just as satisfying to be there at the beginning as it is at the end and just as important if not more so.”
Sophie placed her cheek on Ava’s head and looked up at him. He was proud that he could make them feel happy and loved but she still had not actually consented and while he would probably do it anyway he wanted her to be ok with it.
“What about education? Do you have to do more of that first?” She rubbed her cheek on the softness of the baby’s head.
“Yes, but I won’t be away, just a lot of studying, that’s all.”
A deep inhale signified the end of her questioning, “If it’s what you’re sure you want its fine with me.” She reached up and traced the smile lines of his face with her thumb and said the sweetest words she ever said to him, “If it makes you happy, it makes me happy.”
It was the same for him but he didn’t have to say it and she knew it. The baby stirred and tried to awaken, her tiny thumb finding its way to her mouth, she fell back asleep and he realized that he not only loved them but they were his responsibility, every decision he made had to be what was best for his girls…all three of them, if need be.
The Poison Morality Page 40