He knew Marienne hadn’t arrived yet, but he checked at the reception desk, just to be certain.
“Marienne Gardner?” he asked, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the counter.
The receptionist smiled. “She hasn’t checked in yet. You’re welcome to take a seat. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”
“Thanks,” Daniel said. He sat on the far side of the room, facing the door, so he could see as soon as Marienne arrived.
****
Marienne peered through the glass panel on the office door. She’d seen Daniel’s car in the parking lot and wondered how long he’d been waiting. She saw him as soon as she peeked inside—long legs, wide apart, one knee bobbing rapidly, fingers raking through his hair—he glanced at the doorway and saw her, his face brightening. She smiled as she opened the door.
Daniel looked like he might catapult himself across the room toward her, but he managed to keep himself seated. Marienne signed in at the desk with one of the sunflower-topped pens then took a seat beside him. No sooner had she settled herself and placed her purse on her lap than he slipped his hand into hers. Their fingers interlocked and he leaned over and kissed the side of her head. She felt calmer already.
“You waiting long?” she asked.
“No,” he said, too quickly.
She squinted at him. “How long?”
“A few minutes.” He played with her fingers.
“How many?”
“Ten….Maybe twenty….Forty, tops.” He looked sheepish.
She sighed. “I told you it wasn’t even necessary for you to—” He silenced her with a kiss. The heat that surged through her made her think that if he didn’t stop they might wind up giving the waiting room guests an instant replay of how they wound up pregnant in the first place.
“Marienne Gardner.” The nurse in the doorway grinned at them. “Whenever you’re ready.” She winked.
Marienne flushed and threw Daniel a look. He shrugged his apology as he stood, his own cheeks colored.
****
Daniel sat in the tiny examining room waiting while Marienne went to give a urine sample and get weighed. He examined the medical diagrams on the wall. Babies at all different sizes in every possible position in their mother’s wombs. How on earth do women do this? He couldn’t help but think of his own mother. She’d gone through it all alone, no husband, no one to support her.
Marienne returned, wearing a pink polka-dotted gown. She did a quick curtsy before climbing up onto the examining table. She seemed much calmer than he felt, though he knew she was nervous too.
Before he could ask her anything, the doctor entered the room. She was writing in a chart but looked up to smile at both Marienne and Daniel. “Well, you were right. Your urine sample confirmed it. You’re pregnant.” She turned to Daniel and extended her hand. “I’m Dr. Tyler. You must be Daniel.”
Her handshake was firm and reassuring. “Pleasure to meet you,” Daniel said.
“Why don’t you take a seat over here?” She pulled a chair closer to the head of the examining table. “Marienne, let’s get you in position.”
Daniel took a seat, facing Marienne. She reached out and took his hand as she maneuvered her feet into the odd-looking stirrups. He heard the snap of latex gloves.
“Okay, Marienne, knees apart, try to relax.”
Daniel felt her grip tighten at the word relax, and he knew she was doing anything but.
“Deep breath,” Dr. Tyler said. “You too, Daniel, no dads pass out on my watch.”
He chuckled, but kept his eyes on Marienne’s face. She grimaced and flinched which made him cringe. He rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand, hating that she was in discomfort. The sounds of metal clicking into place and instruments being placed on the small table filled the tiny room.
“Cervix looks great,” Dr. Tyler said.
“Can’t hear that often enough,” Marienne said.
“Okay, just going to use my fingers now. Relax your thighs….”
Again Marienne tensed at the word. Daniel kissed her hand. Her eyes were clamped shut. Her lips tightly pursed. She still looked beautiful.
“All good.” The snapping sound of gloves came again, and Daniel turned to see them being tossed into the nearby trashcan.
Dr. Tyler picked up her chart and pen. “There’s no sign of any problem. As we’ve discussed you have a slightly increased risk of previa because of your history, but it’s still a small percentage. Only four percent of pregnancies will have previa issues again, and of those not all will become serious problems. For now, you’re all good. I would like to get an ultrasound just to have as a baseline. Do you have time for that today?”
“Yes.” Marienne nodded. The tension seemed to be easing in her body. Her hand loosened its grasp and felt warmer.
“Okay.” Doctor Tyler smiled. “We’ll be back in a moment to take care of that. I’ll have the nurse bring you some water.”
Chapter Two
Marienne’s pregnancy progressed smoothly. Clean bill of health after every doctor’s visit. Not a single bout with morning sickness. Absolutely no signs of placenta previa. Instead Daniel was the one experiencing all the ill effects. He had daily tension headaches, acid reflux that even the strongest antacids couldn’t seem to quell, and his lifelong struggle with insomnia became a nightly battle.
Daniel shivered and pulled his jacket tighter as he made his way across the bridge to Highland Park. Normally the walk home from the train station was relaxing, but today it was torture. He’d known he was coming down with something the moment he’d woken up, but as the day progressed he felt dramatically worse. His throat hurt, his muscles ached and he was certain he had a fever.
He trudged up the driveway feeling like he’d run a marathon. The moment he entered the house he could tell that Marienne was cooking dinner. He didn’t feel like eating but the scent of roasting garlic and tomato sauce was comforting. It smelled like home.
Daniel hung his jacket on the antique coat rack and headed toward the kitchen.
Marienne gave the pot on the stove a stir then started toward him. “How was your day?” she asked.
“Don’t come too close. I’m sick.”
Her lips pulled into a frown. “I knew you sounded funny on the phone.” She reached out to touch him.
“Seriously,” he said, backing away, “you don’t want to catch this.”
“I’ll be fine.” She planted her hand on his forehead. “It’s probably the flu. I got my shot, and so did Ella. You’re the one who kept putting off the appointment.”
She was right. He hated needles. Now he was wishing he’d gotten the damned shot.
Marienne frowned. “You’re burning up. Sit down. I’ll get you some Tylenol.”
“I just want to go to bed.”
Marienne’s eyes twinkled at him.
“I wish,” he said. Nothing would have made him happier than to climb into bed with Marienne and make love to her, but the way he felt he wasn’t sure he’d even make it up the stairs. He squinted, the light over the stove was making his headache throb.
Marienne handed him a glass of water. He watched as she opened the cupboard. Her silky brown hair was swept into a messy ponytail, strands working their way loose to frame her delicate profile. “Tylenol or Advil?” she asked, hand poised to pick up either.
“You’re beautiful.”
She narrowed her large, dark eyes. “You’re delirious.”
“Possibly. But I’m still right.”
She rolled her eyes then took down the Tylenol bottle. “You’re taking these then you’re going to bed.”
****
Marienne gave the sauce another quick stir then put a pot of water up to boil. Poor Daniel. She wanted to take care of him, but knew he wouldn’t let her get near him. He’d always been protective, but never more so than now. He tried to hide it, but she knew he worried about the baby.
She rooted through the freezer, moving aside bagels and popsicles unti
l she found a Tupperware of homemade chicken soup. She loosened the lid and placed it in the microwave, setting it to defrost.
The gas stove ticked as she turned the burner on under the teakettle. Soup and tea. Maybe that will help. She tried to think of what his mother might have done when he was sick as a boy.
Marienne’s own mother had been anything but nurturing. When Marienne or her sister got sick their mother avoided them, calling them germ factories. According to Daniel his mother had been the opposite. She’d raised Daniel all by herself—he’d never even met his father. He’d told Marienne stories about how his mum would read to him every night and how she’d baked him his favorite cookies when he was home with chicken pox. She’d taken wonderful care of him, until she’d gotten sick herself when he was fifteen. In the span of a few months the roles had reversed and he’d become her caretaker, then within a year she was gone.
It hurt Marienne to think about Daniel as a grieving teenage boy, sent from his childhood home in Oxford to live in New Jersey with his mother’s best friend, Anne. She’d met Anne and her husband a few times. They were lovely people, but Anne was not the motherly type. They’d taken Daniel in without hesitation, but she knew it had never felt like home for him.
Marienne could smell that the chicken soup was ready. She popped the microwave door open and reached in to extract the steaming bowl. The teakettle started to hiss, and she turned the flame off before the piercing whistle sounded. Toast. That’s what’s missing.
****
Daniel wanted to flop onto their bed face first and go straight to sleep, but he plodded into the guest room instead, pushing the throw pillows and comforter onto the floor before he crawled beneath the blanket. He shifted his weight, attempting to get comfortable. His head was pounding and he was hot and cold at the same time. Here I am worrying about Marienne catching one of Ella’s colds, and I bring home the bloody plague. He pressed his face into the pillow, trying to stop the pulsating pain behind his left eye.
He tried to fall asleep, but his mind wandered. Sleep had not been coming easily. That’s probably why I got sick. The aroma of bread toasting wafted up the stairs. Everything in this house smells good.
He heard Marienne climb the stairs and head down the hall toward their bedroom. “Daniel?”
“I’m in here,” he called, his voice cracking. Great, now it hurts to speak.
Marienne appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray. “What are you doing in the guest room?”
“Why are you carrying the kitchen?” He bounded out of bed to take the tray from her but he stood up too fast and nearly toppled over, instantly lightheaded. “Whoa.”
“Sit down.”
He slumped onto the bed.
“Get under the covers.”
“You’re so bossy.”
Marienne slid the tray onto the dresser alongside the bed. “Have some soup, it’s good for you.”
He was about to say yes, but the doorbell interrupted.
“That must be Lynn dropping Ella off from her play date. Do you need anything else?” Her eyes searched his.
He shook his head. “I have everything.”
****
Daniel awoke sweaty and chilled. The sunlight filtering through the curtains made his eyes sting. He groaned and rolled over, covering his face with the blankets.
He heard Marienne talking to Ella in the foyer. “Get your backpack, sweetie. You don’t want to be late today.”
“I don’t wanna go.” Ella sounded on the verge of tears.
Daniel pulled the covers off and lifted his head to try to hear better, but the room spun and he collapsed back onto the pillow.
“What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?”
“No.”
“I thought you were looking forward to doing the dress rehearsal for your play. The show’s tonight, aren’t you excited?”
“Daddy can’t come.”
Daniel could hear her sniffling and the sound broke his heart. Oh God, I’m going to miss it.
“Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll videotape the whole thing.”
“It’s not the same.”
Daniel wondered what the odds were that he could make a recovery in the next eight hours.
“I know, but he’ll still get to see your performance, and you can watch it with him. It’ll be fun. I promise. I’ll make popcorn and everything.”
She’s such a good mum. And I’m a crap father.
****
Marienne stopped at the grocery store to buy carrots and chicken. She wanted to make Daniel a fresh pot of soup. While she was out, she picked up pink glitter sugar, so she could make some cupcakes to celebrate Ella’s debut.
When she arrived home, she was surprised to see Daniel in the kitchen. “What are you doing up?”
“I’m feeling much better,” he croaked, dunking a tea bag up and down in a mug.
“Sit down before you fall over. Look at you. You’re a walking disaster.” He was pale as a ghost except for dark circles beneath his eyes, yet he still managed to look handsome. “Have you slept at all?”
“Some.”
Liar. “You need your rest. Please go back up to bed.”
“I thought if I had some tea and walked around a bit maybe I’d be able to go to the play tonight.”
He sounded like Ella—sweet, but making very little sense. “You can’t go to the play with a fever.” She touched her hand to his head. “Which you clearly still have. It won’t be good for you, and you don’t want to be responsible for giving a whole group of preschoolers and their parents the flu.”
Daniel slumped into a kitchen chair, looking miserable. “You’re right. I just feel awful that I can’t go.”
“I know. But Ella will understand.”
“She’ll understand that her daddy missed her big night on stage.”
Marienne ran her fingers through his hair, wishing she could do something to make him feel better. “There will be lots of other plays.”
“Yes, but no other first plays.”
Later that night, after Marienne and Ella were fast asleep, Daniel lay awake in bed. He crept downstairs to his study. He couldn’t concentrate on grading essays. His novel simply wasn’t working. Every time he tried to write, his mind drifted back to the pregnancy. What if Marienne has problems again? What if something goes wrong with the baby? What if she needs me and I can’t get to her in time? There were so many things that were beyond his control. The thoughts overwhelmed him.
To make matters worse, ever since he’d found out about the baby the one person he wanted to tell was his mother, and he couldn’t. He’d felt the same way when he’d earned his Ph.D., when he’d gotten married, each milestone marking her absence. This one seemed bigger than all the others. As much as he already felt like Ella’s father, this was different. This time he was the father from the very start. What if I’m not good at it? He’d never had a father of his own. The closest he’d come to a male role model was his graduate advisor, Arnold Jenkins.
Daniel consoled himself with the thought that all men worried about one thing or another when they were expecting a child. He tried to clear his head then decided to stop fighting his own thoughts. He opened a new document and began to type.
Chapter Three
Marienne leaned over the bathroom sink to splash water on her face. Her belly bumped against the cool edge of the tile. She smiled, scrubbing face wash onto her forehead. Pretty soon I’ll have to stand a foot away from the sink. I’m getting round much faster this time. She bent closer to the sink, feeling water run down to her elbows as she rinsed. She glanced up into the mirror and saw Daniel staring at her reflection as he brushed his teeth.
He gave her a toothpasty grin and spit into his sink, his eyes returning to her mirror image.
She turned the water off and reached for a towel. “Are you staring at my boobs in the mirror?”
Daniel’s grin became even broader. “It’s hard not to. They’re magnificent.”
Marienne loo
ked down and laughed. She was practically bursting out of her bra. “It’s just the pregnancy, you know. They’ll go back down after.”
“I know, I remember from last time. Though your version of down is still pretty fantastic.”
Marienne paused, mascara wand mid air. “You remember from last time?”
He wiped his mouth on his towel, revealing an impish smile. “Vividly.”
Marienne was surprised. When she was pregnant with Ella, she had no idea Daniel had ever thought of her that way. “I didn’t know you noticed.”
Daniel stepped behind her, slipping his arms around her. “Where your breasts are concerned you should go on the assumption that all men notice.” He cupped his hands beneath them and kissed her neck.
She could feel him hard against her butt. She leaned back into him. “Mmmm, it feels good when you hold them up. They’re getting heavy. It makes my upper back ache.” She rubbed her shoulders against his chest.
“Well I’d be happy to walk around behind you all day, holding them. I wonder if I could pass that off as part of the Family Medical Leave act. Should certainly count as personal time. It would be difficult to do while driving….”
Marienne turned in his arms. Her belly grazed against him, separating them. He moved his hands to what was left of her waist, his thumbs caressing the sides of her bulging tummy. His face bent to hers. His lips were cool and minty. He trailed his nose down her neck, his silky hair tickling her breasts as he kissed his way down to her pregnant bump. Just as his mouth pressed against her tummy, the baby kicked.
“Oh my God.” Daniel straightened up, his eyes full of wonder. His hand went to the spot where his lips had been. The baby fluttered again. “Is that?”
Marienne nodded. She placed her hand on top of his, holding it tighter to her. She felt the baby shift again then settle.
“Did you feel Ella move this early?”
“Yes, but not so much. This one’s been at it since I got up to pee at five o’clock. Until you woke up, then I guess it was naptime. I’m so glad you felt it.”
Holding On Page 2