First Flower

Men are pigs

Maca's Pov

Friday finally comes, the day of the doctor's appointment. Even though I had a feeling that everything was okay with a baby, I still felt slightly nervous, specially because I wouldn't be able to communicate directly with the doctor, since I don't speak french, Zulema does.

It was a windy day in Normandy, so I decide to wear some jeans with a warm gray sweater, whilst Zulema wears her usual black pants with some chains, and a black hoodie with a drawing that I couldn't even understand.

"Are you nervous?" Zulema asks me on our way on our way to the clinic.

"A little bit, yeah." I say as I'm looking down, because I knew it didn't make any sense to be nervous.

"Everything will go well. You'll see." Zulema tries to give some comfort as she lightly caresses my thigh,making me smile as a response.

Once we get to clinic, we only wait for about 15 minutes before we are seen. The doctor is a fifty year old man, really tall with piercing blue eyes and a big beard. Knowing I'm spanish, he simply waves at me and tells Zulema that I can go to the bathroom to change to the hospital gown.

Zulema's Pov

After Maca gets changed, the doctor proceeds to ask me some routine questions, as I translate them to my girlfriend.

"And where is the father?" The doctor asks looking directly at Maca. The thing with most men is that they always feel like women need to have a masculine figure by their side in order for them to feel complete. From a single glance I could tell that doctor was that type of men.

"No father. We're both the mothers of this child." I say safely, because even though I haven't given Maca a definite answer, I knew she wouldn't be able to understand what I just said. Besides, I already knew what the answer would be, I was just waiting for the right moment.

"Oh. Very well then." He tries to act normally, but fails miserably.

In the end of the appointment he says "Okay so everything seems to be fine, however we still can't know the-"

"-gender of the baby yes we know. We informed ourselves. Can we go now?" I ask as I'm getting up.

"Uh yes of course, I'll check my agenda at the end of the day and the clinic will call you to schedule the appointment for the 3 months."

"Very well then." I say with a tone of mockery. "Maca you can go get dressed now. We're leaving."

Whilst Maca was getting dressed on the bathroom next door, the tension between me and the doctor builds up in the room. I'm not able to take my eyes off him, I don't if it's because I'm trying to intimidate him, and obviously succeeding, or if it's simply because I'm curious what goes into his miserable head.

"You know, you remind me a lot of the guards of one of the last prisons I was in."

He looks at me with eyes wide open.

"No need to worry, I've done my time. But it's true, you do look a lot like them."

Without giving him a chance to speak, Maca gets out of the bathroom and we immediately say goodbye to the doctor, and exit the room.

(...)

"How was the conversation between you and the doctor? The environment seemed a bit off." Maca asks me in our way to the cottage.

"Men are pigs, and he is no exception." I answer sharply.

"But why are you saying that? What did he say?"

"It doesn't matter, really. You don't need to worry about that."
We thankfully get home quicker than we thought. I never liked hospitals, and the smell of death impregnated on them. It was ironic that the same place we are born in is usually the same place we die in, and that scared me a bit. Either way, it's also the place where we see the biggest demonstrations of love, the most honest prayers and the most desperates cries for help.

As we are walking through the still-growing garden to go to the front door of the house, I notice that a flower has finally appeared, a beautiful, long, purple colored flower. I quickly lean forward to pick it up, and start running towards Maca.

"Here. The first flower of the garden. For you." Maca gladly takes the flower and stares at it with tenderness.

"Thank you." She kisses me. "I'm gonna keep it inside the book I'm reading right now."

1 month later

One month has passed. Maca's belly is getting bigger, just like our anticipation to meet the baby. The days grew larger, just like our boredom. Normandy, being essentially a historical center, was a peaceful and quiet place, and we liked living there, but we also wanted to leave the city and meet other places. But it was too risky to do such thing, especially now that as each day went by we were closer to having a baby.

One afternoon, as we're preparing dinner and I put down the plattes, we hear a strong knock in the door. We couldn't help but to feel scared and try to prepare ourselves for worst. When I finally gather enough courage to open door, I feel a chill running through my spine, making the platte that was in my hands fall into the ground.