Lethe Vita

Chapter 34

To the ignorant eye, the flicker of candles, the soft jazz emitting from the stereo, and the handsome, half-naked man sitting beside a bathtub would have been indicative of any honeymoon night.

The sounds emitting from her lips, however, seemed more reminiscent of a barnyard.

Noises she would have heard in her grandparents' stables.

Noises she did hear in her grandparents' stables, when spring rolled around and brought with it the entrance of foals.

She had rolled her body that way, too; the way she had seen her family's horses roll during the foalings.

She had wondered then if they knew what they were experiencing; if they somehow knew that their lives, like hers, were about to be forever changed.

If they had prepared for their foals, the way she had prepared for her baby girl.

Months of waiting, of scans, of blood draws, of choosing designs and furniture for the nursery had led her here.

Had she prepared enough? she debated, using her question as somewhat of a distraction despite being fully cognizant of the well-stocked nursery.

Between Andrea and Kelly, they may have been set on books and clothes until well into mid-childhood.

Brenda hung her head and arms over the tub, breathing through what she convinced herself was her millionth contraction.

"You're doing great, Bren." Dylan caressed her arms. "You're doing great."

How great could she be doing, she mused, when her body had been stretched out over a spinning wheel and spun on an endless loop into a soldier's drawn, spiked sword?

"I can't do this, Dylan," she said.

"Yes you can, Bren. You can." Although his soothing tone did not waver, there was an edge of conviction that enforced his belief in her. "You can do anything. You've always been able to do anything, and you can absolutely do this."

"No, I mean I'm starving," she said. "I have to eat something if I'm going to get through these contractions. Can I eat?"

"The midwife said you can. Strict nutritious diet." Without removing his hands from her arms, Dylan called out, "Oh, Mr. Walsh!" in a sing-song.

Brandon cracked open the door.

"Did everyone disperse?" Dylan asked him.

"We've got company," said Brandon. "A whole bunch of dozing company, Jake included. I've been ordered to wake all of them when you give me the okay."

"Did Leena go home?" asked Brenda. "I expect her shift's probably ended by now."

"We offered her Val's room," said Brandon. "I'm supposed to wake Leena up, too. Contractions closer together?" he asked.

"Still twenty minutes apart," said Dylan, showing Brandon the stopwatch.

"I think she's changed her mind about coming," said Brenda. "Maybe she decided to give us the rest of our honeymoon night to be together."

"We could try sleeping again," said Dylan.

The last time Brenda had left the tub to attempt sleeping in her husband's arms, she had been throttled awake by an unbearable contraction a half-hour after the one before.

"You could try sleeping," said Brenda.

"No can do, babe," said Dylan. "I won't be able to sleep a wink without you, you know that." He looked back at Brandon. "My wife is hungry."