“Tharma, good to see you again,” says the doctor.
“Good for you,” she says. “I’m keeping you in business!”
The doctor laughs. “Well, I see you still have your sense of humor, that’s a good sign. What is this, number five, or six? I lose track.”
“This one will be number six,” she says. Then she turns and looks at me. “Could you keep an eye on my kids while I talk to the doctor?”
No!
“Sure,” I say, offering her a tight smile.
The children sit and eye me quietly at first, but then I see the boy's hand sneak out and pull on his sister's fur.
“Ouch,” she says, batting at his hand. “Get off me, Dirk!”
I’m not sure if I should reprimand him. I give him my fiercest look, but he just glares back and sticks his tongue out. It’s then that I feel utterly overwhelmed. How the hell am I gonna bring up a kid? I don’t even know what to say to one.
The little girl starts sniffing. I know I should do something, but I’m terrified. How can dealing with a couple of kids for five minutes fill me with so much fear?
Luckily, the mother returns quickly and the waiting room goes quiet as she drags them away.
For a while, I’m alone while the doctor deals with the other young girl in the waiting room. When she leaves, she’s crying.
My insides churn as the doctor invites me in. My future hinges on this moment. I feel distant from it though, as if I’m watching myself sitting down and holding out my arm for the blood test. It’s as if it’s another person who lies down on the couch so the doctor can examine me.
And it definitely does not feel like me who walks out knowing that she’s carrying not one buttwobabies in her belly. It’s not as bad as I thought. Somehow, it got even worse.
I barely notice my surroundings as I walk back to Eva’s house. Feeling dirty after my examination, I head for the shower. It invigorates and revives me. When I exit, I realize I’m starving. The doctor's anti-sickness medication has kicked in, and I suddenly want to make up for all those lost meals. I’m pleased to find Eva left me a heap of pancakes.
“How did it go?” she asks when she gets in.
“You were right,” I tell her. “I’m going to have a baby.” As the words come out of my mouth, it makes it feel very real. “In fact, I’m going to have two.”
“Two?” she gasps. “I’m not sure whether to say congratulations or not,” she says, looking at me with expectation.
“I’m not sure, either,” I admit. “I’m terrified, but there is a small part of me that has come around.”
“Well, in that case, congratulations Myra! I bought us both some yerin to celebrate.” She puts the pastries on plates and hands me one.
“It’s so good to be able to eat again, without bringing it straight back up!” I say while stuffing my face.
“You know you can stay here as long as you want, don’t you?”
Her statement nearly has me in tears. I’m so grateful to this woman who has taken me in and shown me such kindness.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” I say.
“Don’t be an idiot,” she says with compassion. “Men can be cruel. I’d never see you pushed back into your bad relationship.”
I’m confused for a moment, but then I realize Eva must think I ran away from a guy. “It’s not like that,” I admit. “I was an indentured slave, working to pay off my passage from Armstrong. I had been offered a job and a ride to Glimner, basically, and it seemed like a good opportunity at the time. The guy who got me pregnant was actually… pretty sweet.”
I think about Zair, and how much I miss him. Would he want me back, now that I’m pregnant? Mercs aren’t known for winning Father of the Year awards. But it would be nice to have a partner. Especially one as caring as he was. At least he seemed like he wanted to start something real with me.
Those flowers were so pretty. I’m sure they’re long dead by now.
“Oh, my goodness,” says Eva, her eyes wide. “How awful! What made you run away? You don’t have to tell me, of course,” she adds, her eyes full of concern for me.
And then it all comes out. I tell her everything. I didn’t know it could feel so good to talk. By the end of it, we are both in tears. Eva puts her arms around me and simply holds me until I’ve cried it all out.