by B C Yancey
"Where is she?" Doc asked with his black medical bag in hand and a look of concern creasing his face.
"Asleep in the bathroom." Everett led the way to the bathroom and hung back in the doorway to give Doc an ample amount of space. "She's been there since I got home. From the sound of it, she's been here the majority of the day."
Doc took her pulse. Everett and Marcus, even the house itself, fell silent while he examined her there on the bathroom floor, looking deathly pale and weak. Elyria remained asleep throughout the entirety of it.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Doc met Everett's hopeful gaze with a look of sympathy. "Help me get her to the bed where she'll be more comfortable."
"Marcus, if you and Doc lift her off the floor, I can carry her to our room."
Within a matter of moments, and with much greater ease than Everett ever expected his body would allow, they had Elyria settled snuggly in bed and a bucket nearby just in case. She stirred only once before falling back into an exhausted sleep.
Doc went to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a pitcher of cloudy water and an empty glass. "This sugar water concoction of mine will help with nausea and dehydration; see to it she finishes it within the next few hours. Here's the recipe for more…you'll need it"
Everett nodded and took the slip of paper Doc handed him.
Doc hesitated a moment and glanced at Marcus, "Do you mind stepping out for a moment?"
"Sure," Marcus nodded, touching Everett lightly on his arm, "Come and get me if you need anything."
"Thanks, Marcus…" Lightheaded and consumed with dread, Everett fastened his gaze on Elyria sleeping in bed.
"First," Doc began once Marcus left and closed the door, "let me start by saying your wife is an exceptional woman."
"Yes," Everett whispered hoarsely, "she is."
Doc sighed, "There's no easy way to tell you this, Captain, so I'm just going to say it plainly."
Everett clenched his teeth and nodded.
"To the best of my knowledge, your babies are fine; however, I cannot say the same for your wife."
Everett blinked. His hands fell to his sides in shock. "I'm sorry…did you say babies—as in there's more than one?"
A small smile bent Doc's lip. "Indeed, there are two heartbeats, which would also account for her much larger size at this stage."
"Twins?"
Doc nodded. "The next few months will be difficult, but provided we implement a few changes and precautions now we may be able to increase the success." His face took on a serious expression when he added, "It would be remiss of me if I didn't stress that pregnancy, especially those involving multiples, is fraught with risks. The chances of losing one or both babies are extremely high. Not to mention the inherent risk of losing the mother even when everything else goes well."
"What do you suggest we do?" Everett asked, his voice tight with emotion.
"I'll make a list, but the biggest change for your wife—and one I know her independent nature won't particularly enjoy—is bedrest, most likely for the remainder of her pregnancy."
At Everett's nod, Doc retrieved his medicine bag and settled a consoling hand on his left shoulder. "I'll be by tomorrow to check on her; we'll just take this one day at a time and try to make her comfortable."
Everett watched Doc leave in a daze. Twins.
Forty-Six
By the second week of February, Elyria found herself entering into a new level of pain and discomfort. Though how such a thing could be possible, she would never understand.
She'd suffered through the entirety of January stuck in bed, not that she'd have been able to move if she'd wanted to. Her belly had grown so large that she couldn't roll from side to side to change position without help from Everett or Sally.
Tears were at an all-time high, often without Elyria able to know what brought them on in the first place—which would then bring more on until she'd been reduced to a blubbering, miserable mess.
"There's a letter for ya," Sally said softly upon entering the bedroom. She was a kind, soft-spoken woman who Elyria had immediately grown fond of. "Would ya like me to read it or do ya want Everett to when he gets home?"
Elyria wiped tears from her eyes and sniffled. "What time is it?" She bit back a groan and held her belly with her left hand while she adjusted her pillows with her right.
Sally quietly helped slide the pillows into position, then sat in her chair near the bed, "Just after 2:00."
Elyria grimaced and blew out a breath. "Please read it; hopefully, it'll distract me."
After opening the letter, Sally delicately cleared her throat, then began to read in a soft clear voice,
Thursday, January 29, 1920
Dearest El and Everett,
I've so much news to share; I feel I shall burst from the excitement. First, let us begin with the most important. I'm beyond thrilled to announce the arrival of Theodore Morton—Simon wants to call him Orie for short, but I'm not sure how I feel about that.
He showed his handsome little face on Tuesday, one week earlier than planned (thank heavens), and has a head full of curly red hair, just like his father. He's simply sublime, and has every last one of us, Anne and William included, wrapped around his little finger.
I can't wait for you to meet him and I'm pleased to say you won't have to. In absolute perfect timing, Simon purchased the Andrews home there in Malad and sold our home after only having it listed for a day.
We're due to close in three weeks, and I can assure you, the instant we sign the paperwork on the 18th we'll be on the train, heading west.
Train tickets have been purchased, which means we should be in your corner—soon to be our corner—of the world by the 20th (provided no outside forces interfere with my plans). I can barely believe how smoothly and swiftly everything has come together.
We sent our furniture and belongings on ahead, so we are living out of suitcases now. But it'll all be worth it in the end. Of that, I'm certain.
I hope you're doing better, my dear sweet El. Take courage. We love and think of you all often and look forward to seeing you soon.
Lovingly yours,
Daph
Elyria sniffled and wiped more tears from her eyes, burying her face in the pillow as Sally refolded the letter and placed it on the bedside table.
"Can I get ya anythin'?" Sally asked, laying a gentle hand on Elyria's shoulder.
"I'm fine, really I am," Elyria whispered brokenly, "I don't know why I'm crying."
A moment of silence passed, then Sally sat beside Elyria on the bed and took her by the hand. "Don't be too hard on yourself. It's normal—or so my sister Celia has said." She paused, her voice laden with quiet heartbreak when she continued, "Marcus and I have never been blessed with a baby, despite all our years of tryin'."
Elyria adjusted the pillow beneath her head and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "How long have you two been married?"
"It'll be sixteen years this comin' May," Sally murmured with a smile in her voice. "Do ya want to know somethin' I don't even think Everett knows?"
Elyria smiled and nodded.
Sally lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned in close, "I'm four years older than him."
"How did you meet?" Elyria said softly, knuckling away several more tears from her eyes.
Sally sat back and let out a sigh. "In school, my last year there before my father pulled me out when my mother died." She chuckled and touched Elyria's hand, "He was the most obnoxious person I'd ever met, but smarter than any other boy—I couldn't help but like him…have ya heard that saying about friendship not startin' till someone chooses ya?"
Elyria shook her head, "I've never heard that."
"Oh…well, now ya have. When he was a few years older, about seventeen I think, he told me that the day we met, he chose me; didn't want anyone ‘cept me the rest of his life and set out to impress me with his smartness." She clucked her tongue, "Like a leech on a toe, I couldn't shake him off me.
"
Elyria chuckled, "You don't sound too upset about that fact."
"No, I'm not," Sally laughed. "In no time at all our friendship blossomed into love, and it didn't matter how many times I tried to reason with the goat 'bout the differences in our ages; he wouldn't have it any other way…not even after we were told I'd never be able to give him babies a couple of years ago."
Tears stung Elyria's eyes anew, and she fought to keep them back. "He's a good man, Sally."
"He really is," Sally agreed, her voice choked with emotion. Clearing her throat, she stood and poured a glass from the pitcher on the bedside table. "Better have another glass. Doc said ya needed to stay hydrated, and with all the cryin' we've done, you've got some work to do."
Forty-Seven
That night, Everett got home from work and walked up to the door with an extra pep in his step; regardless of his exhaustion that he felt was permanent at this point.
He owed this newfound energy to Sheriff Ed Simmons showing up at school before he closed up, giving him some of the best news he'd had in a long while.
Bertrand Wagner had been sentenced to twenty years in prison for attempted murder. He couldn't have been more pleased unless the judge suddenly decided to lock him away and throw away the key.
On his drive home, he found himself wondering if it made him a bad man to be filled with glee, knowing dear old Bert would be stuck behind bars?
Before opening the back door, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a windowpane and paused to check for horns or some telling feature that might show he'd crossed some unmarked threshold between good and evil.
He ruffled his hair, his grin widening from ear to ear. No horns. He turned and looked at his backside and laughed—no devil’s tail. Letting out a pleased sigh, he chuckled and went inside his home.
The warm aroma of fried chicken tantalized his senses and had him closing his eyes in rapture. Could this day get any better? His lips bent in the beginnings of a wicked grin. He knew one way it could if Pegleg was up for it.
"Oh good, you're home," Sally said with a grin. She walked up to him and lowered her voice, "She could use a good cuddle."
"A bad day?" He whispered, hanging up his coat.
Sally nodded. "She'll be better once she knows you're here."
"Thanks," he murmured, settling a hand briefly on her arm before walking toward his bedroom. "And thanks for dinner again."
"My pleasure, I'll just finish up and head home. You two have a good night, let us know if you need anything else."
Everett nodded, stopping in the doorway to their room. "What did the nut say when it sneezed?"
Elyria smiled and pushed herself up onto her left elbow. "I don't know, what?"
He walked in and sat on the bed, "Cashew."
She laughed, shaking her head as she laid back down. "Where'd you hear that one?"
Everett chuckled, "Carson. Want to hear another one?"
"You're in an awfully good mood," she murmured, taking his hand in hers. "Sure."
Everett leaned down and kissed her, then straightened and said, "What did the trapezoid say to the circle?"
"I didn't think shapes could talk."
"They're crafty little things," he snickered, "any ideas?"
Elyria shook her head.
"You're pointless."
"Of course," she giggled, "very clever. Did Carson come up with that one too?"
"Ginny Tadlock," he smiled, laying down behind her. Smoothing her hair out of the way, he gently massaged her lower back and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. "I love you."
She reached a hand back and settled it low on his hip. "I love you." After a few minutes passed in silence, they heard Sally leave through the front door. Elyria took his right hand from her back and curled it around her. "How is Carson?"
"Much better," Everett murmured, closing his eyes. "Ed Simmons dropped by before I left school tonight."
Elyria hmmm'd, but said nothing further.
"Bert got sentenced to twenty years for trying to murder me."
She turned back to look at him, "He did? That's a relief…where at?"
He opened his mouth to speak but fell silent when he felt a kick in her belly. "Did you feel that?"
She giggled, pressing his hand flat for another kick. "They've both been trying to stretch their legs all day, one of them particularly enjoys kicking my bladder. The other one…" she moved his hand further up, "is attempting to do a pirouette under my ribs."
Everett sat up and closed his eyes, waiting for it to happen again, "What does it feel like?"
"It changes," she murmured. "Sometimes it's more of a soft jab; other times, it can be quite sharp and painful." Blowing out a breath, she winced and pressed a hand to her side. "They're running out of the room, though."
He pressed three more kisses to her neck in quick succession, then stood, "Idaho Penitentiary."
She frowned and looked at him like he'd lost his mind, "City Hall."
"No," he laughed, shaking his head, "I just remembered you'd asked where Bert would be going. The Idaho Penitentiary up in Boise—almost three hundred miles away, too bad it's not a little farther…the moon perhaps."
Elyria giggled, "You had me confused. I thought we were just naming buildings."
"That is my favorite game to play," He chuckled. "Are you hungry? Sally made fried chicken."
"I am actually," she said, "will you help me sit up first?"
After getting her situated and comfortable, surrounded by pillows, Everett went to the kitchen humming a tune and prepared two plates with food.
"Daphne wrote," Elyria called out, "they've had a little boy…named him Theodore. Simon wants to call him Orie for short."
Everett added another drumstick to his plate and licked his fingers. "I knew an Orie once. Down in Colorado. He was obsessed with Ferris wheels after going on one while on a trip to New England with his parents."
Throwing a clean dish towel over his right shoulder, he grabbed two forks and both their plates and walked back to their room. "He had a lisp and a big gap in his front teeth he used to shoot water out of."
When he got to the doorway, he stopped froze. His heart hammered against his ribs and his gut clenched with fear. Elyria sat on the bed, both arms wrapped around her belly, weeping.
Not seeing any blood on the quilt, he hurried over to the dresser and set down their plates and forks before perching beside her on the bed.
"What's wrong?" He asked in a building panic as he cradled her face. "Are you in pain?"
She shook her head and cried harder.
His panic began to dissipate. Adjusting his position on the bed, he carefully pulled her into his arms and held her until she calmed down enough to speak.
"I'm fine," she brokenly said against his shoulder. "it's just—I started thinking of how happy you were tonight and how Daphne's got a new baby and…"
When she didn't elaborate further, he wiped the tears from her cheeks and kissed her temple. "And it made you feel sad?"
She nodded with a sniffle and pulled back, "I love you."
"I know," he murmured, biting back a grin, "I love you too."
Forty-Eight
Friday, February 20, 1920
By the time Daphne and family were due to arrive in town, Elyria didn't know how much longer she could stay cooped up indoors without losing her mind.
It didn't matter if she sat on the couch, laid in bed, or lounged in the reading chair like she was now. Comfort had become a foreign word she remembered with fondness and longed to experience once more.
Everett prohibited her from accompanying him to the train station to pick them up, despite her varied pleas for an escape from her little prison.
So, to occupy her mind and hands, she decided to knit. The fact she'd already knitted four blankets for the twins and a sweater for Everett didn't matter. She was desperate.
The clock on the mantel chimed 7:00 pm just moments before she heard the low rumble of t
he car pull into the driveway.
Daphne's quiet laughter and Everett and Simon's voices followed, growing louder as they came to the back door.
"But I'm not tired, mama," Anne whined, "I'm hungry."
"Believe me," Daphne sighed, "I know."
"How about we have a little something to eat," Simon murmured with a chuckle, "then we'll get you three settled down for the night. It's been a long day, and we can all use a rest."
"But I want to go see our house," Anne pouted, "you promised."
Daphne clucked her tongue.
"Don't look at me that way," Simon laughed.
"She's your daughter, through and through." Daphne blew out a breath and opened the door, "We'll go see the house tomorrow, Anne. Now, if you continue this whining, it'll be straight to bed with you, and you won't get any supper."
Anne started to cry. "But I'm hungry!"
"Heaven save me from six-year-olds," Daphne muttered, stepping into the house. "Elyria," she cried out with a sudden burst of happiness.
Everyone shuffled indoors, and suddenly Daphne was bending down wrapping Elyria in a hug. "You look miserable."
"I am," she laughed, "but I'm so glad you're finally here."
Daphne stood and tucked an errant lock of hair behind Elyria's ear, "Everett said you've been stuck on bed rest for over two months now."
Everett gently touched Elyria's right shoulder and bent to place a kiss to her cheek. "Are you doing alright?"
Elyria set her knitting aside and nodded, unsure what to say that wouldn't sound like unadulterated complaining. So, rubbing her belly to soothe a twinge of pain from a double kick, she smiled and shrugged. "How was your trip?"
"Let's just say it proved educational. Anne is six going on thirty and William hit his terrible two streak halfway through the rolling plains of Nebraska." Daphne sat on the ottoman with a weary sigh, "It wouldn't have been so awful if I hadn't depleted my reserves of chocolate bars before we arrived in Chicago."
"And mine," Simon added over by the table. "How you learned of my secret stash, I'll never know."