Pregnancy Countdown

by Linda Wisdom

  Mark was in his thirties and his family expected him to start adding to the Walker family tree.

  He didn’t think that was possible. Not that he thought he couldn’t have children. Just that he wasn’t sure his adding to the Walker population was a good idea.

  Mark was convinced that when the fatherhood gene was passed out to the Walker brothers, he was off somewhere else.

  He made a great uncle and knew it was a job he could easily handle. He just couldn’t see himself as a dad 24-7.

  “Mark!”

  He jumped. “What?” He glared at his sister-in-law. He was positive Abby’s shout just took out an eardrum. “Are you trying to make me deaf?”

  She rolled her eyes. “As if! You were already impervious to your surroundings.”

  “Impervious. Wow, the kids teach you that ten-dollar word? Storybooks have come a long way since we were kids.” He pretended to cower under her look of outrage.

  “You know, I really pity the woman who ends up with you,” Abby told him.

  Mark looked to his brother for moral support, but Jeff’s broad grin told him he’d find no sympathy there. He leaned forward and pushed himself out of the chair.

  “You are an evil woman,” he told Abby with as much dignity as a man wearing a wild fuchsia and green flowered shirt and baggy stone-colored cargo shorts could give. He walked away with her laughter ringing in his ears. He didn’t mind. He knew he would get even with her later on. Abby and Ginna giving him a bad time was nothing new to him.

  Mark didn’t have to go far to find someone to talk to.

  He hung out at his parents’ house on most of his free weekends, as did many of his friends. They brought their wives or girlfriends and treated the place like a second home the way Cathy and Lou Walker liked. Mark couldn’t remember the last time he had brought a date with him.

  This was the first time he’d spent time looking for Nora. And the first time it really mattered that she wasn’t there.

  Chapter Four

  Nora couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so terrible. For all she knew, she had never felt this bad before. If she had the strength she’d beg someone to put her out of her misery.

  She sat on her bathroom floor with her back against the wall and held a wet washcloth against her forehead.

  A faint snuffling sound came from her left as a cold nose pushed against her leg.

  “Oh, Brumby, I feel horrible,” she moaned, keeping her eyes closed. She was afraid if she opened them her stomach would resume its acrobatics. She wasn’t used to getting sick just by looking at her bathroom tile.

  She’d woken up that morning feeling as if her stomach was turning itself inside out. She’d spent the next hour in the bathroom and vowed never to get takeout at that new Chinese restaurant again. By the time her stomach settled down she’d vowed never again to eat Chinese food, period. The following hour, she was starving. By then, she’d even felt well enough to fix herself a big breakfast and eat every bite. Afterward, she took Brumby for a long walk, which pleased the bulldog to no end since he loved nothing more than patrolling the neighborhood.

  That afternoon she’d settled down on the couch with a book and had fallen asleep before reading three pages. The activity wasn’t a usual occurrence for her, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

  When Nora woke up a couple of hours later, the open windows invited in the rich aroma of steaks cooking on a grill at a neighbor’s house. Her stomach rolled over as if she’d just stumbled off the fastest roller coaster in the world. She barely made it to the bathroom in time.

  Thirty minutes later, she was still in the bathroom because she was afraid of straying too far. She feared she was in for a repeat of that morning. Which meant it wasn’t last night’s Chinese food. Then she remembered several people at the salon had come down with a nasty flu virus.

  “How could I catch the flu?” she mumbled. “I take just about every vitamin I can imagine.” She smiled at the dog’s muffled snore. Her smile took a downturn and her voice turned to a groan when she heard the doorbell chime. “The last thing I want right now is company!”

  Nora remained seated on the floor. Whoever was at the door could assume she wasn’t home and leave. Even Brumby didn’t stir. Except the melodic summons didn’t stop, it turned downright annoying. She knew that only occurred if someone was keeping a finger on the button. She didn’t care. She wasn’t budging.

  “Come on, Nora! I know you’re home. You better answer before I call 911!”

  Nora muttered a curse that was very unladylike.

  “What is he doing here? There’s no reason for him to be here,” she muttered, slowly rising to her feet. For a second, the world swayed around her. Nora held on to the sink until everything settled into place.

  She paused to see if her stomach would give her the excuse she needed to ignore the doorbell. The traitorous part of her body decided to behave. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Skin white as paper. Eyes dark and sunken in her face. Her hair was sticking out every which way. She couldn’t look any worse if she tried.

  “Talk about scary. This is good. One look at me and the man will run for the hills,” she observed.

  “Nora?” Mark’s voice sounded panicked as it floated through the front window. He started pounding on the door. “I mean it. If you don’t come to the door I’m calling the cops.”

  “Not if I call them first,” she said under her breath as she slowly walked down the hallway.

  “If you don’t open this door in five seconds, I’m calling my mom!” he shouted the ultimate threat. “Do you really want her coming out here? You know she will.”

  Nora groaned. The last thing she needed was Mark’s mother showing up at her door. Cathy Walker would do just that if Mark called her to say Nora wasn’t well. Nora loved the woman dearly, but she didn’t need anyone fussing over her. She took a deep breath and headed for the door.

  “You are such a mama’s boy.” She threw open the door. “Go away.” Having given her command, she started to close the door, but Mark gripped it tightly and held fast. “Mark!” She tried pushing again, but he easily moved her to one side and stepped inside.

  “What happened to you?” he demanded, walking past her. “You look like hell.”

  “Thank you so much for that heartfelt compliment. Now that I’ve scared you into Halloween, would you please leave?” She swung the door open in hopes he would get the message. The last thing she wanted was company. While she had at first thought it was a good idea that Mark see her at her worst, she now realized she didn’t want him seeing her when she looked less than human.

  Mark held up two plastic grocery bags in one hand. He used his foot to gently move Brumby away from his leg.

  “Mom was sorry you didn’t come out for the barbecue. She asked me to drop some of the food off to you,” he explained. “There’s some of her potato salad, some of Abby’s chocolate cake, not that I’d recommend it, but Abby stuck it in. There’re also slices of tri-tip roast and some rolls if you want to make sandwiches.”

  As the aromas wafted upward to her nose, Nora could feel her stomach start to roll over again. She swallowed convulsively. The last thing she wanted was to become sick in front of Mark. If that happened, he would not only refuse to leave, he’d probably call his mother, to boot! If she thought Mark was difficult to get rid of, Cathy would be downright impossible, because she would insist on staying until she was certain Nora was all right. Nora would feel much better if Mark would just leave her alone.

  Except Nora knew she was lying to herself.

  The idea of a man taking time to stop by as a favor for his mother and not put off by a woman who looked like something dragged out of one of the hiding places where Brumby kept his precious toys, was charming. She didn’t want Mark to be charming!

  She looked at Mark. She wanted to reach out for him. To ask him to take her in his arms and tell her she was going to be all right. That he’d make it all better. She b
linked rapidly for fear she’d completely disgrace herself and break down in tears.

  “I’ll have to call Cathy and thank her for her thoughtfulness. It was very nice of you to drop the food off, so sorry you have to leave,” she said, her voice husky.

  She should have known that Mark would ignore her. He walked past her and disappeared into the kitchen. She could hear the rustle of the bags as he set them on the counter and her refrigerator door open, then close as he put the perishable food away. She was ready to march in there and demand to know what was taking him so long, when he returned with Brumby following fast on his heels.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I tossed Brumb a small piece of the tri tip. Hey, are you sick?” he asked. He reached forward to press the back of his hand against her forehead. She reared back. He stepped forward again and this time succeeded in touching her.

  “It’s a toss up between the Chinese food I had last night or the beginning of the flu, which I’m certain you wouldn’t want to catch.” She suddenly felt weak in the knees. She wasn’t sure if it was because she’d been sick a good part of the day or because of Mark’s proximity. She wanted him to go before she broke down and begged him to stay. When had she turned so indecisive? She used to know her own mind and stick to it. Now all she seemed to do was argue with herself as to what she should do.

  Mark was bad for her. He was the kind of man she didn’t need in her life. Which was why, deep down, she’d actually been pleased to see him at the door. Not that she’d ever admit it.

  “I’m a trained paramedic, Nora,” he gently reminded her. “You do feel a little warm. You have a thermometer around so we could double-check?”

  Nora blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. She told herself he was only concerned about her because he needed to do the right thing.

  “I don’t need anyone to check up on me. I don’t need my temperature taken, Mark. I just need to get some sleep. But I can’t do that until you go.” She feared she sounded as desperate as she felt.

  Mark looked surprised by her curt tone.

  “Nora, if it is the flu, you need to be checked out. Let me call someone.” His voice softened. “I can call Gail. I’m sure she’d come over to examine you.”

  Nora laughed softly. “I think you’ve forgotten something. Gail’s a pediatrician and I’m not five years old.”

  “That doesn’t matter. She’s still a doctor,” he persisted. “She can still tell you if it’s the flu or something more serious.”

  “It’s not the flu. Something I ate disagreed with me. That’s all. All I need is something to settle my stomach and some quiet time. Both of which I’ll have once you’re gone,” she said pointedly.

  He didn’t move. “If you start feeling worse, will you call me?”

  Nora edged him toward the door. “Yes, I will call you,” she lied.

  He looked at her searchingly. “No, you won’t,” he said finally. “I wish you’d let me into your thoughts, Nora. I don’t know why you won’t believe it, but I do care what happens to you.” He leaned forward, kissed her on the forehead and walked out the door. “And I mean it, Nora. If you need something, call me no matter what time it is. I’m off for the next few days.”

  “All right,” she lied, knowing it was the only way he’d leave.

  Mark looked skeptical. His expression let her know that the small smile on her lips and her impassive gaze was an assurance that didn’t ring quite true.

  “Try to eat something,” he said.

  “I will,” she replied, mentally urging him out the door.

  Thankfully, this time he heard her silent plea and headed the rest of the way to the door. The minute he was on the other side of the threshold, she flashed him one last smile of dismissal.

  Nora had barely closed the door after Mark when she felt the familiar upheaval in her stomach. She clapped her hands over her mouth and ran to the bathroom with faithful Brumby toddling after her. She didn’t think about Mark any further.

  A couple of hours later, after a bowl of chicken noodle soup, which she always considered one of her comfort foods, she curled up in bed. A favorite movie on TV provided background noise that mingled with Brumby’s rumbling snores.

  When the telephone rang, she reached over to pick up the handset.

  “Hello?”

  “Nora, it’s Mark. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  You should have known he would call to check on you. Mark may have been a wild boy at times, but he was also a caring one shot through her mind. She was rocked by a familiar voice echoing inside her head.

  “I’m much better, thank you. Proof it had to have been something I ate,” she replied.

  “You looked pretty pale earlier,” he pointed out. “Even if you feel better now, it doesn’t mean you might not have the flu.”

  “Most redheads are pale. That’s why we have the hair to make up for it.” She pushed her pillow behind her as she sat up.

  “That’s what your grandmother used to say.”

  “You remembered that? You only saw her, what, two or three times?” she said, surprised.

  “Hey, don’t sound so surprised,” he chuckled. “Your Grammy Fran reminded me a lot of my grandma. She always spoke her mind, let you know where you stood with her and she was a lady who fully enjoyed her life. Who wouldn’t remember someone that special?”

  Nora couldn’t keep the tears back. She felt a strange tug down deep in her stomach along with a soft ache in her heart. The need for Mark to hold her in his arms was strong.

  “She once said your shirts were so loud she’d never need a hearing aid around you.” She pressed her fingertips against her lips, unsurprised to find them trembling. She took a deep breath. “Mark, I have to go. Good night and thank you for calling.” She pushed the disconnect button and set the handset down. She picked it back up and shut off the ringer. She curled up under the covers and closed her eyes. A moment later, she took further precautions by pulling her second pillow over her head.

  Nora couldn’t remember experiencing a more miserable night. By the time she fell into a decent sleep, Brumby was uttering throaty growls and pawing at the doggie door that Nora kept locked at night because the neighbor’s cat liked to make late-night visits.

  The next morning, after spending most of the day before in bed, she felt more human and even hungry.

  As she cooked breakfast, thoughts raced through her head. Too many questions and not enough answers. If she and Mark had made love when they were seeing each other, would she have been so quick to break it off with him?

  “There’s no guarantee we would have stayed together,” she told herself as she slid behind the wheel of her lime-green Volkswagen Beetle. “Mark liked to party too much. I didn’t. And then, I convinced myself that I was the damper on the relationship and I dated way too many guys to prove I could be a wild woman. All I got out of it was a case of dating overload.” She looked both ways before zipping onto the busy highway that paralleled the beach.

  It may have been mid-September, but the weather was more like June. She wished she’d lowered the convertible top before she left the house so she could have enjoyed the morning sun the way so many Californians did that day.

  Nora parked in the grocery’s parking lot and walked swiftly toward the store. Her steps faltered momentarily when she saw a tall figure wearing a colorful shirt. Then the man turned and she realized it wasn’t Mark.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she muttered, picking up her pace. “The sex wasn’t that good.”

  Liar.

  “Shut up,” she ordered the voice inside her head.

  Come on, Nora, the man did things to you that had you tied in knots. Admit it. You never had anything as good as what you had those nights. The man was fantastic.

  “There’s nothing worse than a mouthy conscience.” Nora blithely ignored a woman’s startled glance in her direction as she snagged a shopping cart and headed for the produce department.

  Ordinarily,
she would have treated her trip to the grocery store with the same enthusiasm she greeted a trip to the dentist. She’d been known to pick up a week’s worth of groceries in ten minutes flat. Today was different. She first picked up a latte at the coffee bar. Then she took her time strolling up and down each aisle as if she were a world explorer on a quest. By the time she finished her shopping, she not only had everything that was on her list but a great deal more than she’d normally eat in a month. A stop at the dry cleaners, the drugstore, and she finished up her errands with shopping for new toys for Brumby at a popular pet superstore.

  “Pig ears for my baby,” she announced, carrying bags into the house. Brumby made his way toward his mistress, drool dripping from his jowls. He accepted his favorite treat with a canine grunt of thanks and waddled off to his favorite spot where he could enjoy it in peace.

  As Nora put away her groceries, she had an unsettling thought. She’d bought enough food to feed two or more. Anyone coming in would think she was expecting company.

  Company such as Mark, who’s always been known for his large appetite; in more ways than one.

  She grimly stifled the crowing voice in her head.

  “It’s to make up for those days I felt as if I couldn’t even drink water,” she told herself.

  That night, Nora cooked herself a huge meal and savored every bite. The following morning, she woke up convinced she was going to die.

  “Please tell me you have an opening this morning,” she begged her doctor’s receptionist when she called to see if she could get a last-minute appointment. She promised to be there promptly at ten when she was told they would squeeze her in.

  Nora showed up ahead of time, and when ushered into an examination room, she answered questions, gave the requisite samples and impatiently waited for the doctor to come in and tell her what was wrong with her.

  “So you’ve had an upset tummy that won’t go away, have you?” her doctor said, smiling at her when he stepped into the room.

  “Which is really nothing more than the flu, right? Or are you going to tell me it’s something worse? Okay, give it to me in twenty-five words or less,” Nora said, bracing herself to hear the worst.