by Cher Etan
“Er…us?” Andrea inquired in confusion. Clearly Max hadn’t yet made the announcement to his staff that he was to be a father sooner rather than later. Christine lay back in the chair waiting to hear what he would say.
“Yes yes!” he replied irritably, his impatience indicating that he wasn’t as calm as he was trying to project. “Me and Christine.”
“Er isn’t your doctor’s name Benson?” Andrea inquired.
Max turned to glare at her. “Andrea are you trying to get fired?” he ground out.
Andrea put up her hands in surrender. “Okay okay, I’ll find this Dr. Mulholland’s number and make the appointment,” she said closing her mouth and regarding them for a moment as if waiting for further explanation. When none was forthcoming, she opened her mouth again to make some inquiry but then changed her mind and closed it again.
“Okay then,” she murmured with a shrug and went clacking down the corridor again.
“You should probably tell her,” Christine said.
Max shrugged. “Not yet. It's too soon. Nobody needs to know yet but us.”
Christine nodded her head in understanding. After all, people lost babies all the time. They might make some huge announcement and then not survive the first trimester. Case in point, her falling like a fool down a ladder. It was embarrassing but more than that, she was worried. Worried for her baby…she hadn’t even been aware before this morning that she regarded it as her baby. Consciously, if she thought of it at all, she just imagined a bunch of ever multiplying cells holding her uterus hostage until they were ready to face the world. Now, all of a sudden, she was literally sick with worry that she might have inadvertently caused harm to her child. She’d read in the booklets that the amniotic fluid acted as a shock absorber to cushion the child from being hurt. She hoped to hell it was true in this case. But gra hadn’t seemed worried so maybe she shouldn’t worry either. Not that gra would tell her if she was worried. She had this whole ‘keep calm in a crisis’ policy that was easily misleading as to the seriousness of the situation if one paid attention to it.
“Could you get my grandmother please?” Christine asked Max.
“Yes of course,” he replied straightening up and walking to the doorway. “Martha!” he called.
Christine smiled; it looked like Max was not ready to leave her alone even for the few minutes it’d take to get to the kitchen and back. A wave of cold washed over her as she remembered why he didn’t want to do that. What if the baby was hurt and she was just sitting here? Maybe she should have gone to the hospital right away instead of seeking out her grandmother like she was wont to do in any situation.
“How are you and me going to be wed when my grandmother’s your housekeeper? Don’t you find that extremely super awkward?”
Max shrugged. “It's up to her what she wants to do. I was thinking you could both just move in and she could continue to run the house as sort of matriarch of the family or something,” he said very absentmindedly, still keeping an eye on the door for Martha while gently running his hand up and down her back in a gesture she supposed he meant to be soothing. She wasn’t sure if it was having the desired effect though. Oh it was doing something to her alright; making soft parts softer and melting hard parts of her but she wasn’t really paying attention to that now.
“You’ve really thought about it huh?” she said through a haze of what she didn’t want to think of as lust.
“I’ve thought about it enough to know that we probably can’t keep the status quo after the wedding. I also know your grandmother loves her house because I’ve offered repeatedly to move her into a suite of rooms here but she always refuses. Even though you would have gone to a much better run public school if you were in this neighborhood.”
“Hey! There was absolutely nothing wrong with the school I went to,” she protested.
“Oh yeah? Didn’t you have a weapons check at the door?” he asked with a slightly superior raised eyebrow.
“Welcome to America bitch.”
Max snorted and opened his mouth to reply when Martha walked in. “What seems to be the problem?” she asked.
“Nothing; Chris wants you,” Max said sweeping his hand in her direction.
Christine grinned nervously at Martha. “Hey,” she said with a small wave. Martha walked toward her and put her hand on her forehead, pulling her head forward to rest on Martha’s stomach.
“Poor baby, you’re scared out of your wits aren’t you? Don’t worry, everything will be alright,” she said as she smoothed Christine’s hair over and over. Christine buried her head in her grandmother’s softness and exhaled.
*****
The doctor did an ultrasound so they could see that the little bundle of cells was currently busy exploring its environment and looking not at all moved that its host had had an accident but a few hours before.
“I mean of course you have to take better care and I would strongly advise if possible, that you avoid ladders and other risky activities especially for the next three months but otherwise, I think you’re doing well. And the baby is doing well.”
“Right. Thank you Dr. Mulholland,” Christine said. She realized her hand was enveloped by Max’ and they were clinging tightly to each other as the doctor gave the verdict. She couldn’t hate though. This had been more nerve wracking than she’d imagined.
“My nerves are wracked,” she said to him as they walked to reception to set up their next appointment.
“Mmmhmm,” Max replied absentmindedly. Christine peered curiously at him, wondering at the sudden distance but didn’t say anything because they were at reception and he was busy scheduling their next appointment.
“I’ll call Stevens to come around to the entrance,” she told him as she lifted her phone to her ear. It was a testament to how worried he’d been that he’d had Stevens drive them to the appointment. He usually enjoyed driving and usually only used Stevens for official company business. But today, he’d sat in the back holding Christine’s hand and making jokes about the poor kid having no chance to grow up as a girl’s girl, what with her tomboy of a mom and a dad in the car business.
“Don’t stereotype us,” she’d protested making him laugh.
Maybe he’d sat in the back to calm her down and not because he was anxious….Christine didn’t like to think about how much they were behaving like they were a couple or something. It was just…misleading and they should stop. If they were to have a marriage of convenience, there should be rules and regulations. He couldn’t just run his hands down her back and make her feel things and then hold her hand as if he cared for her. That wasn’t…what they agreed.
Christine walked toward the clinic doorway to wait for the car there. When she saw the black Bentley rounding the corner she walked toward it without waiting to see if Max was with her. They needed to stop the whole ‘joined at the hip’ vibe that she was beginning to get; before it became a problem. Stevens came around to open the door for her, studying her curiously as if he wanted to ask what all that was about but not sure about their boundaries. She hadn’t interacted much with him in the past. He was just the driver who was usually downstairs in the garage with the cars; polishing them or maintaining them or whatever it was he did. They might exchange cordial nods if they ran into each other but that was it. She smiled tentatively at him, not wanting him to think…she didn’t know what she didn’t want him to think. Man, this pregnancy thing really seemed to be playing havoc with her emotional stability she thought.
Max came and slipped into the car, saying nothing about her leaving him at the reception by himself.
“Next appointment is next month on the ninth,” he informed her.
She nodded her head, raising her phone to punch the information into her calendar as Max continued to study her.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I am great,” she replied not knowing why she suddenly had a lump in her throat and a great desire to just…bawl into Max’ shoulder.
; “God, I hate pregnancy hormones,” she said instead.
“Are you already feeling those?” Max asked curiously.
Christine shrugged. “It’s a roller coaster in here baby,” she said. Max laughed and slung an arm around her shoulders, rubbing gently at it in an absent minded manner. His thoughts seemed to be preoccupying him quite a bit.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
He widened his lips in what she supposed he took for a smile and looked her in the eye. “Well if you must know, I was wondering what would be the best way to ask you to move in with me?”
Christine stared at him, “Is that really necessary?”
“Maybe not necessary per se but it's something I would really appreciate if you could find it in your heart to do so.”
“Why?” she asked leaning closer to him. Mostly because the massaging of her shoulders was making her melt into a puddle of content and she didn’t feel like holding herself up but also so she didn’t miss a single expression on his face.
“I want to take care of you,” he said completely spoiling the mood. Christine sighed irritably and straightened up.
“I don’t need you to-“ she began.
“I know you don’t need me. I know that,” he cut in. “That’s why I’m asking if you wouldn’t mind too terribly if I did it anyway.”
“And if I do mind?” she challenged, staring at him with unblinking eyes.
Max shrugged. “If its too much of a hardship for you, then there is very little I can do about it. I can’t force you after all.”
“That is true,” she replied.
“But will you consider it?”
Christine turned her head to look at him properly. “I guess…well I guess you have every right to experience every moment of this pregnancy as much as I do. But just to be clear, staying in the same house doesn’t mean that we…you know.”
We…what?” Max asked in what looked like genuine puzzlement.
“We don’t…you know…do it,” Christine said her face hot.
Max stared at her in puzzlement for almost five minutes before his face cleared. “Oh you mean sex,” he grinned.
“Yes, I mean sex. Don’t think I don’t know how you French men are.”
“Hey! I’m only half French. And it's my American parent who's a slut.”
“Well good on her. So now that we’ve cleared all that up,” Christine said making a circle with her hand to encompass their conversation. “We can agree that yes, I’ll be moving in but to my own room.”
“Your own suite of rooms in case your grandmother can be enticed to join you.”
“I wouldn’t count on it but hey…I’m not saying no to that suite.”
Max clapped his hands once. “Great, I’ll get someone in to redecorate to your exact specifications.”
Christine opened her mouth to protest the lack of necessity for that but Max was already shaking his head in rejection of her sentiments.
“That’s what we’re doing. I want you to be comfortable and feel at home. You won’t do that surrounded by my things. You’re not a guest – this is to be your home.”
Christine lifted a hand to stop his diatribe.“I get it,” she said with a wry twist of her mouth. Max’ eyes dropped to her lips – she was wearing dark lipstick again today and when her lips were twisted like that it was like she was just inviting him to kiss…he dropped his eyes to get away from temptation but they landed in the v made by her jacket. Her shirt was also low slung so he could see the twins peeking out. If he wasn’t mistaken, they were slightly bigger than before. Trust Christine to reap all the advantages of being pregnant; glowing skin, bigger breasts…without all the swollen ankles, bad breath and awkwardness. Or maybe that was still to come. This was his first time being so close to a pregnant lady; he didn’t know.
“Are there classes we can take on what to expect?” he asked suddenly very anxious at his complete lack of knowledge.
“I think so. Probably. I can make inquiries,” Christine offered.
“Don’t tire yourself, I’ll tell Andrea to do it.”
“I thought you didn’t want to tell anyone yet.”
“Yes, but we need someone to assist us; at least we can trust Andrea not to go blabbing to the press.”
Christine nodded. “Hey, you’re the boss,” she said with another twist of her mouth that evoked an answering twist at the level of Max’ pelvis. For a moment, it was all he could do to keep breathing steadily.
“Yes,” he said faintly. “I’m the boss.”
Chapter 6
Christine called a family meeting the following Sunday; unlike Max she was close with her family and she needed them to know what was happening in her life. She didn’t want to. The stain of what Rudy had done to her had not yet faded; her cousins still tended to look sympathetically at her when they were discussing their relationships. She had three that she was particularly close with; Sadie, Angela and Aisha. Their mother was her mother’s cousin and she’d spent just as much time at their house as she had at her grandmother’s growing up. Martha and her sister Misha were close since they were orphaned early in life and had no-one but each other for a long time. That closeness translated into their families growing up extremely intertwined. This closeness was exacerbated when they both lost their husbands to the war in Vietnam. They helped each other raise their kids; Martha had one girl; Cordelia and Misha had two boys; Andrew and Carl. Cordelia got pregnant in high school by a basketball player (she said) who disowned her and her baby before Christine was even born. Cordelia still named her after him. Andrew was the oldest of them all and pretty fertile by all accounts. He had three girls by three different women almost simultaneously, around the same time as Cordelia’s pregnancy. He was doing relatively okay in his career and didn’t want to pay child support so he applied for and obtained sole custody for all three babies. He then proceeded to leave them to his uncomplaining mother to raise. Still, he and his brother Carl chipped in and were very present in the lives of all four girls. It was an open secret that Carl was gay so nobody was expecting offspring from him anytime soon.
Martha provided food for the gathering but everyone chipped in with the making of it. Andrew and Carl were manning the grill outside making sure that the barbecue was coming along just fine. Cordelia and her man Kevin were mixing drinks while Martha took care of the hash browns and gravy. Christine was on corn on the cob duty while Sadie and Aisha took care of the pie. Angela was known to burn water so she was laying the table as she updated everyone on the neighborhood gossip.
“You know those new people who moved into number 22?” she asked as she gathered a pile of plates together. “The ones with the huge ass box of recording equipment? I heard they're independent porn producers.”
Christine laughed, “You thinkin of applyin Ange?”
Angela threw a towel at her.
“Hey! No throwing my clean stuff around the kitchen,” Martha growled.
“Sorry gra,” Angela said sticking her tongue out at Christine behind Martha’s back.
“Who told you that?” Sadie asked ignoring their playful fighting.
“Crazy Sandra. She heard it from Leroy over at the corner store.”
“Oh yeah, very reliable,” Christine said.
“So how would you explain it then?”Angie challenged, her hands crossed.
Christine shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it. However, if I really feel like I’ll die if I don’t know I’ll just cross over and ask them,” she said causing Angela to kick her in the shins. Yes, the girls were close, and like all close siblings, they had their fights and arguments. Fights could flare up and flare out in the blink of an eye.
“Ouch. Careful now before you hurt someone,” Christine said.
“Well if someone doesn’t wanna get hurt they better can it with the crazy talk,” Angie shot back.
Christine put up her hands. “Hands up, don’t shoot.”
Angie flipped her the bird but went back to he
r table arranging.
Once the food was done, they all sat down and Misha said Grace as they all linked hands. After the ‘amens’ were said they all dug in and the table was relatively quiet for a bit. Midway through the meal, Christine began to feel a little queasy but hoped it would pass. The barbecue had been made extra spicy in classic Uncle Andrew style and the combined smell of vinegar and garlic was assaulting her nostrils pretty bad. She tried taking shallow breaths to escape from the nausea but abruptly stood and ran as she lost the battle to keep her food down. She only just made it to the kitchen sink before she was projectile vomiting everything she’d eaten since the beginning of time. It was mortifying and Christine was glad that the only people who were there to see it were family…and Kevin. She didn’t care about him so she wasn’t worried what he did or did not see. In fact, she would really have been happy if her mother had just not come with him but she couldn’t control that so she just shrugged inwardly and told herself that her mother would have told him anyway even if he hadn’t been here.
“Hey are you okay?” Uncle Andrew was already rubbing soothingly against her back while Aisha handed her a towel to wipe her mouth and Angela washed out the sink. Christine took as long as she could wiping her face and nodding that she was fine before she looked up into her uncle’s concerned eyes and smiled.
“I have something to tell you guys,” she said as she leaned against the kitchen counter. Everyone who wasn’t already watching her looked up from their plates now.
“Lemme guess; you’re pregnant,” Uncle Carl said totally stealing Christine’s thunder.
“Uh...” Christine replied at lost for words for a moment. Uncle Andrew leaned forward so he could see her face properly. “You’re pregnant?” he said sounding unflatteringly incredulous. “I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”
“Yeah neither did I,” Angela said looking very aggrieved.
“Hey, you wanna sit down?” Sadie asked linking arms with her and leading her back to her seat. Christine was grateful for the temporary distraction. Sadie was really good at that shit; knowing exactly what people needed when they needed it.