Having Nathan's Baby

by Fran Louise

  “You look kind of green again.”

  I paused, giving him a blank look. “I’m hungry.”

  “Good, because we’re here,” he said.

  I looked past his compelling face, which was studying me so painstakingly. Behind him there was a small cafe with heated outdoor seating. My metabolism kicked to life like a waking lion when I saw the muffins and fruit being laid out on a customer’s table.

  We ate a large breakfast of pancakes and local maple syrup that made my flagging spirits soar. By the end of the meal the good humor was temporarily restored. I sipped the last of my tea, marveling at his ability to brush things off. I was helpless to do otherwise when I was with him, too. He was his usual tactile self, seemingly unable to stop himself from brushing a hand through my hair occasionally, or encircling my shoulders with his easy embrace. I knew he was like that with everyone, but it stirred me. I didn’t touch a lot of people on a daily basis, nor expect to be touched. My family was not demonstrative with their affection. It made me uncomfortable normally; it had struck me as odd from the second of our first meeting that Nathan hadn’t sensed that in me; it still struck me as odd that I didn’t feel that discomfort around him, even if we hadn’t seen each other for a long while.

  It wasn’t until the waitress came back to collect the dishes that I started to sense the familiar rollercoaster feeling in my stomach. The sight of the syrup slopping against the plates evoked a churning sensation. Within five minutes I’d lost most of my breakfast. Nathan was concerned, but mostly alarmed when I arrived back at the table, my face ashen.

  “How are you supposed to feed a baby if you keep throwing up?” he asked.

  I shook my head, taking a deep breath. “Ask Mother Nature,” I said.

  “Morning sickness?” The waitress was back, this time wearing a sympathetic expression. Clearly deciding she had her opening, she didn’t wait for a response. “I had the worst morning sickness with my first,” she said. “I swear I couldn’t keep a single thing down. They made me stay in bed for the first three months of the pregnancy, I was so weak.”

  Nathan stood up and took me by the arm, as though I were precious cargo. His expression was faintly horrified. I was equally alarmed as I contemplated what it would mean if I was forced into bed rest at any stage of this pregnancy. It happened all the time; it could happen to me.

  “I guess congratulations are in order, then?” she said, all smiles.

  I stared at the woman, appalled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tentative smile on Nathan’s face. He looked ready to spill the beans. I blurted, “It’s just a ‘flu bug,” before he could speak. His expression stilled.

  The waitress looked between the two of us with hesitation. “Oh, is it too early to spread the good news?”

  “We’d better get on the road. Thanks for everything,” Nathan said. Giving the woman a broad smile, I took Nathan’s hand again and led him out of the courtyard.

  We were on the other side of the street before I had to stop. I leaned against the wall, still weak from my sickness. I let him test my clammy forehead with his cool palm, but my mind was elsewhere. “I can’t believe you were about to announce to that waitress…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Nathan brushed aside my comment with a frown, his arms on my shoulders. “Who cares?”

  “I do!” I yanked away from his grasp. I felt anxious and desperate in the aftermath of the waitress’s keen observation. “You might’ve decided we’re playing happy families, but I haven’t made any decisions yet.” I put my face in my hands, breathing carefully to quash the nausea. “I don’t need anyone forcing my hand. I’m not ready to start announcing things.”

  He walked away from me, his tone grim. “You can’t treat this like it’s a bout of ‘flu indefinitely, you know.”

  I glared at him until my head started spinning again. It deflated my anger. A groan left me. “I can’t do this right now. I need to sit down somewhere quiet.”

  “The car?” He was back at my side, his arm around my shoulders.

  “I want to stay outside,” I said.

  He looked around. “There’s a river back there. We crossed the bridge on the way in.” He sighed. Despite whatever emotion was tensing his jaw, he pulled me close to him as he started towards the road again. “It’s pretty near to the market, so I can leave you alone for ten minutes while I pick up supplies. Let you get your head together.”

  I felt tearfully grateful, both for the physical warmth of his body next to mine and the emotional tact. I kept my body rigid and my head high, afraid he’d see how badly I was crumbling inside. Nathan actually wanting to be a part of this baby’s life was a game changer. The whole situation was spiraling out of control. It really was like discovering I was pregnant all over again.

  He left me on a bench close to the water, with promises to be back with the car in fifteen minutes. Alone finally, I exhaled a deep, tremulous breath. My heart rate slowed as I followed the view down to the gurgling water. It looked cold but vital. I breathed carefully, aware of the astringent chill in the air. I forced myself to stay calm, to resist the nausea. My eyes ran over the finely carved wooden hood over the bridge. I wondered how old it was; it looked like it had recently been lovingly restored if the glossy burnished red paint was any indication. I stared at it for a while, numb.

  Somehow my brain switched on again. I felt a stab of panic. Just two months ago I’d been a vital, capable member of society, charging around at fifty miles an hour wherever I went. I’d run the New York marathon and hosted a cocktail party for my friend’s engagement in the same week I’d been informed I was in the final two for the partnership at the firm. Now here I was, cobbled and weak, sitting next to a freezing river in the middle of nowhere. I was leaning on Nathan just to get one foot in front of the other. How had I gone from that to this?

  I swiped at my tears, too tired for anger. What was I going to do? As quickly as it took for a stick to turn pink, I’d gone from being in control of my life to watching from the sidelines. I sniffed, reaching into my pocket for a tissue. At least that was how it felt, especially now that Nathan had already formed a relationship with this small life inside of me. He’d made a connection … my eyes moistened again. How could he have made a connection, made such a bold decision, when I was still a jumbled mess? Of course he didn’t have to give birth, or nurse, or any of those other all-consuming things…

  My hands were cold and red; I imagined my nose was, too. I wondered for a second if the baby could feel all of this. Staring ahead, I took another deep breath and looked around at the woodland at the other side of the river. This would be a great place to bring up a child. New York was no place to raise children, with all the competitiveness and hierarchy and expectation placed on them so young. Children deserved time to play, to exist without concern for the past or the future. People were young for so little time and old for so long. Youth was something to be cherished. I’d been pushed through the entitled New York education system by my well-meaning parents, with all of its advantages and pressures, but I wouldn’t want that for my child.

  That realization made something collapse inside of me. I held the tissue at the inside corners of my eyes but it was soon soaked through. My throat ached as though the skin had been chafed. I knew what the right thing to do was. The right thing would be to have this baby and devote my life to it. Was it selfish of me to resent that? I might be pressured by my life in New York, but it was my life, and my choice! This all felt so ... I glanced around, trying to isolate the feeling. I felt – what? Cornered? Fearful? I just didn’t know if it was a programmed insistence on retaining my old life, or the scary unknown of a possible new life that was causing all of these emotions.

  I shifted my weight on the seat, and my hand automatically rested against my stomach. It felt comforting after the emotional trauma of the morning. All of this upset couldn’t be good for the baby. It might not feel the cold, but it must surely feel the rise in my heart rate, the adren
aline. I blew out a breath, forcing myself to relax. Why did Mother Nature make pregnancy so awful? Or was it only this awful when the woman refused to give into it? Either way, it seemed absurd to deny the vessel a decent breakfast. I realized I was suddenly ravenous again. The fresh air seemed to have cleared my head and taken away the worst of the nausea.

  I stood up carefully. Looking back up at the market, I wondered if Nathan was picking up any pickles. I had an overwhelming desire for a ham sandwich with lots of butter and pickles. Pickles probably weren’t on his essential supplies list. I blew out a long, shaky breath. I needed more time to think, but I was too cold to sit on this bench any longer. With slow, hesitant movements I stood up, looked around at the breathtaking view, and then started up the hill. I knew my face must be blotchy and red, but I didn’t care. I focused on the simple feeling of hunger. Hunger I could do something about. Hunger had a simple solution. I liked simple solutions.

  I stopped at the top of the hill by the roadside. My eyes ran down the length of the pretty street with its awnings and ornate benches and streetlamps. People bustled from store to store. My eyes searched the market across the other side of the street; I saw Nathan inside, through the glass, almost immediately. My eyes focused on him like a sponge soaking up water. He was laughing at something the woman at the till was saying. My heart rate slowed. It seemed to stop for a moment. I felt absolute calm inside as I watched him. His dark profile was handsome, yes, but it also held an indefinable male beauty that was singular. No other man, no other human being, evoked the same heady mix of emotional and physical yearning in me.

  I loved him. The notion arrived with a certainty I hadn’t felt for a long time. I loved him more than anyone else on the planet. Sure, if anyone had asked me before this, I would have admitted that, but as the kind of love one shared with a friend, with a lover. It was only now that I realized this love had been slowly expanding inside of me. It was populated with years of shared memories; of little disappointments and celebrations. It was strengthened by the care he’d taken with my hesitant intimacies. He’d given me so much of himself, too, shared so many of his desires and his fears with me. He’d always been there. He was my best friend, and the only lover I’d never tired of. He’d been my rock for nearly ten years. He was a constant in an otherwise ever-changing life.

  Why was I so terrified at the prospect of having his baby?

  He looked up at that moment. His profile eased into hard, questioning features. I smiled unconsciously. My heart contracted as I watched the relief spill into his features. He stared at me for a long moment, his dark eyes brooding. Even from this distance I could sense the tension in his jaw line. I felt the pull of his overwhelming masculinity across the meters between us; he was like a dark jewel shining in the rough. I was assailed by a fervent need to run across the street, into the store and straight into his embrace. I was pregnant with his child, and he was happy. He wanted it. I realized I would probably never have this opportunity again.

  Our relationship was about to change. My decisions at this very moment would dictate which direction it went in.

  The cashier distracted him; he turned away with a belated smile as he handed the woman something. Looking both ways, I took a step across the street and entered the store. The sound of laughter met me with bright welcome.

  “Here she is,” he said.

  Meeting Nathan’s smile with one of my own, I walked over to his side.

  “Jayne here,” he said, gesturing towards the cashier, “heard from Kristin at the cafe that you weren’t feeling so good.” His smile became pointed. “I was saying there’s a lot of ‘flu around at the moment-”

  “You’d be best getting yourself along to the doctor just to be sure,” Jayne interrupted.

  I felt very calm as I turned back to the woman. “I’ve already been to the doctor, actually. It’s not the ‘flu – I’m pregnant.” I felt Nathan stiffen beside me. I couldn’t turn, couldn’t look at him. The enormity of what I was doing was only just contained inside my tight chest. “We’re not quite at the three-month stage yet so we’re being careful.”

  “Oh, well that’s wonderful news!”

  The small market erupted in a volcano of congratulations. Nathan looked dazed, allowing his hand to be shaken by a myriad of well-wishers.

  “I’m just going to pick up another couple of things,” I told him, feeling nervous now. Had I really just done that? “I’m guessing you didn’t get pickles, right?”

  “Wait till the cravings kick in good and proper!” Jayne warned on a laugh. She turned to Nathan. “You won’t want to be visiting the market without getting her to make a list first. Otherwise you’ll be back and forth like a pizza delivery boy.”

  We finished up the shopping and got back to the car within ten minutes. Once the bags were stowed and we had both buckled into the front seats, I sat waiting for the car to start. It didn’t. I turned to find Nathan staring out at the view of the river.

  Heart hammering, I extended my hand to touch his and then retreated. I wanted to reassure him. I wanted to apologize for my erratic behavior. I wanted to explain a million things, but they were all too confusing to understand in the first place. Instead, I said, “Looks like we’re having this baby, then.”

  He made a sound that could have been laughter. But when he turned to look at my, a frown furrowed his brows. “Do you want to? Or is this just for me?”

  I realized I was biting my lip when the pain signaled in my brain. Releasing it, I turned back to the view. The bridge loomed steady and constant, timeless. Everything had seemed a lot clearer when I was on that bench. “I’m not sure,” I said.

  “What about your job?” he asked.

  “What about everything?” It was my turn to utter a laugh. “We don’t even live in the same city.” Anxiety shut down the humor suddenly. “I haven’t worked out all the details.”

  “But you definitely want to have it?”

  I turned to him. “I won’t change my mind, if that’s what you mean. I am having the baby. I’m just not sure if I’m always going to feel this good about the decision,” I said. The continued anxiety forced honestly from me. “I might get back to New York and think ‘what the hell have I done?’ but I won’t go back on my word. I promise.”

  A long breath left him. He smiled, looking dazed again as he turned back to the view. The silence was counted for a moment by the ticking of the dashboard clock. “Looks like we’re having this baby, then,” he echoed finally.

  Chapter Five

  Back at the house, I ate a sandwich and then retreated to the sunroom. I lay on the sofa near the windows, staring out at the lake. Nathan was in his studio, finishing up some calls. On the other hand, this would be the first day in around fifteen years that I hadn’t worked. I’d spent most of my adult life lost in work: Thanksgiving; Christmas Day; birthdays, weddings, funerals ... I always had to make a call or send an email or finish a report. My phone went off in the middle of the night regularly. I’d once cut a holiday short to come back to New York for an impeachment hearing; not because my boss had requested it, but because they’d moved the date and I hadn’t wanted to miss it. It felt very strange to be lying here doing nothing.

  My life was about to change. I still couldn’t really believe it, even if I knew it was going to happen. Like night and day, my life was going to flip from being focused on my job to being focused on ... what? I ran a hand across my stomach. I had no plans to kick up my heels and retire from professional life to be a stay-at-home mom, even if I had all the admiration in the world for women, like my sister, who did. I had to work, but I also had no idea how to do my job at a slower pace. I had no idea how to live at a slower pace. How did people manage? I couldn’t imagine coming home from work at six every night and not working weekends. My inbox would overflow and my brain would implode through frustration. I needed to work; it was my lifeblood. But clearly I wouldn’t be able to do eighty-hour weeks once the baby arrived, or even in the years that fo
llowed, not when I saw how exhausted my friends with young children were. They were lucky to manage forty hours a week on top of everything else in the first few years.

  I turned on my back and blew out some air. The partnership ... a tight feeling constricted my breathing, like my chest was in a vice. What was it: regret? Absolute longing for something I’d worked so hard for, something so close and yet so out of my reach? I shifted my position and rubbed my eyes tiredly. I would just have to see how the chips fell after I announced my pregnancy. There was no sense in doing it yet; it would be best to wait and see how the race heated up over the next few weeks. Some part of me still hoped I could find way, even if right now it seemed impossible. Whatever the outcome, I wasn’t quite ready to give it up. I’d just decided I was going to have a baby, and as decisions went, that one was big enough for this month. I couldn’t deal with everything else today as well.

  Lifting up my legs, I crossed one ankle over my knee. I stared at the elegant design around the hanging light in the centre of the room for a moment, trying to distract myself from the tight feeling in my chest. I wondered how much of this work Nathan had overseen. It was so unlike him, this house. I guessed he hadn’t been around much while it was being decorated. His band’s last tour had covered the globe. I could remember the first few gigs over a year ago because he’d invited me to Tokyo for Thanksgiving. I’d had a deposition to do, so I’d requested a rain check. I felt a twinge of sadness as I thought about that now.

  No! I bolted upright, swinging my legs from the sofa. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do this. If I had this baby, I wasn’t going to make it a yardstick in my life that I measured everything else against. Sure, I worked too much. Sure, I’d missed out on a lot of things because of that. Just because I was changing horses for a while didn’t mean I was out of the race. This decision didn’t render everything that had come before meaningless, or ‘inconsequential’, no matter how Nathan had decided to view it. He was a man with ten houses all across the world, houses that he’d never decorated himself or spent any length of time in. He had two hundred friends and no confidantes. He lived for his job every bit as much as I did, but he wasn’t in danger of losing his now that he had a baby in his life. He had the luxury of deciding to change because he was already successful.