An Act of Persuasion - By Stephanie Doyle Page 0,25
going to happen.
She ordered a ginger ale and dug into the bread when it came.
“I would like to go to your next doctor’s visit.”
She considered his request. She’d had her last appointment only a few days ago. She’d heard the heartbeat for the first time and had made her decision that it was time to tell him. “That’s fine. They are pretty routine.”
“When do I get to see the picture? You know, the grainy thing that no can really tell what it is but people make a big deal out of it anyway.”
She smiled. “That’s at eighteen weeks, I think.”
“Are you going to find out the gender?”
Hmm. She hadn’t thought about that. She hadn’t really thought about anything other than finally getting over the hurdle of telling him. Now she realized she would have to let him share in all these decisions. In a way it was like working with him again.
They had always worked together very well.
“Do you want to?” she asked him.
“I’m willing to compromise on that issue.”
“So noted. Let’s table it until we actually have the sonogram.”
They ordered. Just some pasta in a French cream sauce for her, while he’d opted for the rabbit.
“You’re normally more daring in your food selection.”
She rubbed her belly while she sipped on the ginger ale. “Yeah, well, junior has other ideas. I’ve been a nonstop vomit mobile for the past three months. It’s easing up a little but I don’t want to push it.”
“I can sympathize.” He looked at her a little sadly. “I would have held your head. With a damp washcloth on the back of your neck.”
It’s what she had done for him. She wasn’t even sure why the washcloth was necessary or what it accomplished. She just remembered it as something her mother did when she’d been a little girl and had been sick. It was one of the few nicer memories she had of her mother.
Their meal came and Anna picked at hers while she watched Ben eat. Before the cancer, he’d enjoyed his food. But once he’d gotten sick, the weight fell off him quickly as his appetite had fled. It had been a struggle every day to keep pushing the calories into him. During that first round of chemo, she’d basically pumped him full of fruit smoothies and milkshakes which were the only things he seemed able to tolerate.
It was ridiculous, and if asked, she would totally blame it on the hormone thing, but she could feel the tears coming as she watched him steadily clean his plate. He wasn’t going to die. Ben Tyler was going to live and now, seeing him devour his rabbit, she finally let herself believe it.
“You’re not touching your meal,” he said when he finally looked at her plate. “You should order something else. Something more palatable.”
“You see how ironic this is, don’t you?”
He leaned back. “The shoe is on the other foot.”
“I’m not potentially dying. At least, I hope not.”
“Yes, but you need taking care of. You’re going to be tired and you’re obviously still dealing with nausea. I understand your concerns about rushing into marriage. It seemed like a natural conclusion, but maybe you’re right. We’re not there yet and I pushed too fast. But come home and live with me. At least for the duration of the pregnancy. Let me take care of you at least.”
Home. Come home with him. Anna put her face in her hands and fought to control her breathing if not the tears.
“Anna, what the hell...”
He was out of his chair and crouching next to her, his hand rubbing her back and that only made her weep harder.
“Damn hormones,” she blubbered.
He handed her the napkin off her lap and she used it to dab her eyes. When she lifted her head she imagined her face would be blotchy and red and her eyes swollen. Just the image she wanted to portray in front of him. He was right about her. In some ways she was very messy.
He resumed his seat across from her, setting his elbows on the table and leaning in intently. “What did I say?”
She shook her head not even willing to think the word again. He wouldn’t understand. Sadly, she didn’t think he could ever understand what those six years with him meant. Maybe it was time to tell him. Maybe if she came clean with him, he would finally get what her problem was and back off.