Summary: Sequel to "The Wedding and Bedding of Willy Gilligan" but can be read as a standalone fic. The nights of passion between Mary Ann and Gilligan bear fruit. Ginger suspects the Professor of infidelity. Tension can be felt by all as Gilligan's Isle gets a little stranger…
Author's Note: This is actually NOT a one shot. I plan to make a full story out of this one. Just note it may take awhile between updates. I hope you enjoy
Palms' Lullaby
Chapter One: Father Knows Least
"BLUGGHHHHH," a wave of nausea hit Mary Ann like a massive tidal wave. She doubled over and let that morning's oysters and coconut milk hit the sand in an explosive display. As she clutched her stomach and let out another violent surge of half digested food her best friend very gently gathered the brown strands of her companion's hair into a ponytail to prevent it from being caught in the crossfire of the projectile vomit.
"Oh god…" Mary Ann groaned pitifully as she struggled to find her footing. Ginger hoisted her to her feet and put one arm around her steady her almost intoxicated-like swaying. "I knew shouldn't have tried to salvage those week old oysters." She let out another deplorable sound before another wave crashed and in another moment she was back on her hands on knees watching the turtle eggs join the rest of her breakfast.
"Ginger," she choked out, before her stomach could toss up anymore food. "Please get Gilligan for m-UGGGGGGH!" it was too late though. Up came the papaya and banana in what seemed to be a final outburst. "Ohhhh, please get him for me, I feel terrible," she groaned, as she laid down on her side and held her stomach. The tall red head needed no extra incentive as the brunette heaved again. She dashed off to find the younger girl's gawky, awkward first mate of a husband who at that moment was peacefully sitting by the oyster bay.
Gilligan hummed softly to himself as he opened up another oyster and held it up to his eye. "Nothin'," he said irritably before tossing it on a rather large pile of opened oysters. He plucked another from the smaller pile and was just about to open it when he heard his name being called. He saw the tall form of Ginger, decked out in a beautiful blue evening gown, come through the foliage, calling his name. "Over here Ginger," he said casually, now inspecting the new oyster. "Nothin'," he frowned tossing it aside.
"Oh Gilligan, there you are," Ginger said slowing down as she approached him. "What on Earth are you doing?" she said taking in the scene. There was a pile of open oysters almost as tall as she and a much smaller one at the first mate's feet. "You're looking for pearls?" she guessed, not finding any other possible explanation.
"Yeah, for Mr. Howell," he said, picking up another one. "See it's his and Mrs. Howell's thirtieth wedding anniversary on Friday and he wanted to give her something real nice, like pearls," he explained. He looked inside the new oyster. "Except they must be hiding 'cause I haven't found a single one all morning."
"Gilligan," Ginger began. "Is Mr. Howell paying you to do this?"
"Yes, of course," Gilligan said throwing another empty mollusk onto the pile.
"Well that's a relief," Ginger said. "How much is he paying you?"
"Three bananas an hour," he looked up at her and smiled. "The best rate on the island!"
Ginger sighed heavily, feeling badly that the young man was once again taken in by his naivety. She did not have time to think about this long though, as her memory was suddenly jogged and she remembered poor Mary Ann, crumpled up by the lagoon, her half digested breakfast surrounding her.
"Oh Gilligan! I completely forgot what I came down here for. Come on, we've got to go," she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet with surprising strength.
"But Ginger, if Mr. Howell comes down here and sees that I'm taking a break, he's going to say – "
"Oh Gilligan, never mind Mr. Howell. Mary Ann is throwing up all over the lagoon, and she wanted me to get you," she tugged on his arm and began leading him back into the jungle.
"Mary Ann's sick?" Gilligan felt his throat constrict and his feet root to the floor. "What's wrong with her? What's she got? Did you tell the Professor?" his questions came faster than Ginger could handle.
"Gilligan," she tried to interrupt him but he was already going too fast.
"I'm sure he could think of something. He's a real smart guy, he knows all sorts of things about diseases and stuff. Oh I don't know what I'd do without Mary Ann. She's so sweet and kind and wonderful. She never asks for anything and now she's sick and – "
"Gilligan!" Ginger snapped. He looked up at her as if he just noticed she was there. "Gilligan, I'm sure she'll be fine," Ginger reassured him. "She just needs comforting I think," Ginger said, back tracking to where he had stood. "Come on now," she said gently, giving him a 'come hither' hand gesture.
He looked at her as though he was scared about what he might see. Despite his fear for his beloved though, his love for Mary Ann made his legs move. Gilligan obediently began to follow her, but his mind raced to a place where he saw Mary Ann with a fatal disease. A place where she clutched his hand and said with great intensity he would have to try and be brave. He was dreading hearing her dying words to him when to his massive relief he saw her leaning up against a rock by the lagoon, her head in her knees.
"Mary Ann!" he cried seeing her curled up form by the lagoon. "Mary Ann!! Mary Ann!" he called to her as he dashed away from Ginger towards his young wife. Upon hearing her name, she lifted her head ever so slightly to see him running towards her. She gave a small smile, letting her knees hit the floor, sitting upwards as he collapsed to his knees beside her.
"Gilligan," she said fondly, reaching up to touch his face.
"Mary Ann," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her to his chest. "I was so worried about you," he said into her shoulder.
"I'm fine, Gilligan. I just ate something that didn't quite agree with me," she said soothingly, stroking the back of his head.
"You sure?" he said pulling away from her, and locking his gaze with hers.
"I'm sure Gilligan," she said pulling him back to her, as she gently buried her head in the crook of his neck. From afar, Ginger couldn't help but smile. Gilligan very rarely let Mary Ann show any displays of affection in public (and by public, Ginger of course meant the five other people on the island). It seemed to her while he very much loved Mary Ann, he was incredibly shy and was embarrassed with intimacy in front of anyone who was not her. It was a rare treat when Ginger saw them shamelessly embracing by the lagoon, kissing sweetly between soft whispers.
"What's all this about?" a voice came from behind her. Ginger was slightly startled by her own husband's voice, but when she saw him she merely smiled knowingly.
"Just some bad oysters," she said cryptically. The Professor cocked an eyebrow, as Ginger continued to watch the young couple. A thought popped into his head and he couldn't help but share.
"Did you know," he said, pulling her red hair aside so he could whisper this seductively in one ear. "That oysters are a natural aphrodisiac?" Ginger turned ever so slightly to look at him.
"Is that so?" she purred.
"Yes it's true," he continued to say in a low heated voice. "It's said that oysters a very rich in rare amino acids that actually increase the productivity of sex hormones," his hand was gently trailing down her arm as he said this. "That and their exorbitant zinc content, which has high levels of testosterone." He bent down to place a light kiss on her throat.
"That sounds wonderful dear," she said turning to face him now, her hands on his chest. "But it was Mary Ann who threw them up, not me," she said slyly.
"Oh then, I suppose I should be talking to her," he said jokingly as he took a step away from Ginger and began to walk towards Mary Ann and Gilligan. He was stopped when Ginger's hand wrapped around his wrist.
"I believe she's a bit preoccupied," Ginger said, pulling his body to hers, putting her arms around his neck. He turned to look at Mary Ann and Gilligan to see that the young man had scooped his bride into his arms and was now taking her back to the huts. The Professor turned back to Ginger.
"It would seem that way," he said. "Perhaps we should follow their example?" he suggested.
"I can't wait that long," Ginger said breathlessly. She got on her toes and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. She teasingly pulled back to see his eyes were closed still savoring the taste of her lips. He slowly opened his blue eyes to find her looking up at him with a playful expression on her face.
"Neither can I," he said truthfully, before wrapping arms around her midriff and pulling her roughly against him. In a matter of moments, he had her pinned against the nearest tree and she was mercilessly tearing open his white collared work shirt.
"What if – if someone," Ginger tried to get out between kisses. "Someone sees us?" she finished as he began to trail kisses down her neck and chest.
"They won't," The Professor assured her as he looked up briefly. "The Skipper is getting lumber, The Howells are playing golf and now Mary Ann is with Gilligan. I checked before I came to find you," he said with a wicked smile.
"Professor!" Ginger pretended to be offended. "You planned this?"
"Yes, of course," he whispered, putting his hands on her neck to bring her forward. "We've been so busy lately, what with my writing and the last failed rescue attempt, I wanted to be alone with you for once," he said sincerely. Ginger smiled as he placed another sweet kiss on her lips. He then grinned devilishly and pushed the straps of her evening gown off her shoulders and began to kiss her jaw line. Ginger wanted very much to get herself lost in the moment; however, something was nagging at the back of her mind.
"Dear," she stopped him before he went any further. "When are you going to tell me what your book is about?"
He stopped his passion momentarily to grimace. "I already told you Ginger, it's about my findings in chemistry. They wouldn't interest you," he said trying to get her to drop the subject. Ginger would not be deterred this time. She had walked into their hut several times to find him writing something which he would hastily cover up. And what she did see didn't look much like chemistry as there were no equations or diagrams of any sort. It appeared to Ginger to be much more of memoir than a textbook.
"I just don't understand why it's such a secret," Ginger reasoned. "I mean I am your wife," she said as though she were a bit hurt.
"I told you," the Professor stated firmly. "You'll see it when it gets published. You have enough faith in me that it will, don't you?"
"Yes, of course I do," Ginger said. "But – " he cut her off with a finger to her lips.
"Good, then let's not ruin the moment," he said ending the subject. He pushed a hand through her hair as he let the other one rest on her hip. Ginger promptly forgot about the book and put her hands to his bare chest, basking in the warmth he gave off. She moved them upwards and then secured her arms around his neck. His hand moved up her long leg, gathering the glittery material between his hands and pushing it up to waist.
"I've missed this so much," he said lustfully in her ear. Ginger merely responded with a soft sound that was indistinguishable from a moan and a sigh. His hands were at the top her dress, gently pulling it down to expose more of her pale skin. She helped him along by pushing it all the way down so her dress was gathered all around her hips.
"Ginger," he whispered, putting his hands to the exposed flesh. Ginger hissed softly at the coldness of his hands.
"Your hands are cold," she said, laughing a bit.
"Well you know better than anybody body heat is one of the most efficient methods in calefactory stimulation," he said against her white throat.
"Mmm," she almost hummed. "I love when you talk that way." She moved her hand down to his pants to remove his belt. She had just begun to unbuckle it when the two heard a rustling of bushes a few feet away.
"What was that?" Ginger said, alarmed, looking over her husband's shoulder at the seemingly quiet wilderness. The Professor listened intently to the surroundings, sure that if someone were there he would have known. After a few moments he turned back to his lover.
"I'm sure it was just a bird or something," he said pulling her mostly unclothed self back to him. He leaned in for a kiss to reinstate the passion when another noise alerted them to someone else's presence.
"Mr. Howell!" came Gilligan's voice over the trees. "You don't understand, Mary Ann was very sick and I had to take care of her."
Ginger and the Professor exchanged alarming expressions. "I thought you said they were golfing!!" Ginger said anxiously.
"They were!" The Professor said, now glancing around for somewhere to hide.
"Oh I knew this was a bad idea!" Ginger whimpered. The footsteps were getting closer.
"My boy, when a man is paying you to do a job you have a duty to uphold!" Mr. Howell boomed from a few paces away. "You can't be preoccupied with every little thing that's going on at home," he said good-naturedly. The Professor nervously jumped away from Ginger to look for his shirt which was nowhere to be found. As he leapt away from her, her gown fell to floor without his body keeping it at her waist. She bent down to pull it back up, however the Professor grabbed her arm.
"There's no time," he whispered urgently.
"But – " Ginger tried to protest.
"By the time you've got it on they'll have already seen!" he said pulling her into some nearby bushes. Not five seconds later Mr. Howell and Gilligan walked through the spot where Ginger and the Professor's abandoned clothes lay.
"But Mr. Howell, the pearls, if there are any, aren't going anywhere," Gilligan tried to reason with Mr. Howell.
"Well if the girl is so sick, neither is she!" the millionaire insisted.
"Mr. Howell, Mary Ann needs me right now," Gilligan tried to plead.
"Codswallop!" Mr. Howell nearly yelled. "Mary Ann is in my wife's excellent care until you return."
"But Mr. Howell, Mrs. Howell said Mary Ann was working on her dress. It doesn't sound very much like Mrs. Howell is taking care of her at all."
"Shows how much you know," Mr. Howell said. "For your information, Lovey is perfectly able to double as a model and a nurse simultaneously. Howells for generations have taken up multiple careers as we're so naturally gifted."
"But Mr. Howell – "
"Gilligan, as your employer, this is simply not up for negotiation!" He added just to himself, "These union workers are never satisfied."
"What was that Mr. Howell?" Gilligan asked.
"Nothing, nothing dear boy! Now hup two!" He swung his cane for emphasis but it ended up flying into the undergrowth. "By gods!" shouted a now infuriated Mr. Howell. "It's just impossible to get good help these days."
"Don't worry, I'll get your cane, Mr. Howell," Gilligan said walking over to where the cane had flown.
Mr. Howell seated himself on a nearby boulder when he noticed something on the ground near his foot that he had not noticed before. He bent down and picked up Ginger's glittering blue dress between his fingers. "What on Earth?" gawked the stunned multimillionaire. As Mr. Howell began to work out the origins of this mysterious cloth, Gilligan was already on his hands and knees, inches away from Ginger's left foot. He got on his side and reached his hand into the bushes and began to feel around for the cane. He was surprised when he found something else.
"Hey, Mr. Howell I got your – " he moved his hand around to the object and realized it was not a cane. "I got something, anyway." He sat up on his knees and pushed a few ferns out of the way to get a better look. He was utterly bewildered when he saw a blue high heeled stiletto with someone's foot in it.
"Hey look a foot," he said casually. He let his eyes wander up from the foot, to the leg and up further still. He was absolutely shocked when the image of his fellow castaways semi nude and embracing tightly entered his view. Ginger and the Professor looked at each other guiltily as the younger man yelped and scrambled to his feet.
"Ginger! Professor! What are you doing out here and why don't you have your clothes on?!" He was now covering his eyes
"Well I can venture a guess," Mr. Howell piped up, approaching the scene. "But it would hardly be proper!" he exclaimed. No one was amused. Gilligan was feverishly walking back and forth, eyes still covered as to ensure hitting leaves and tree trunks and even Mr. Howell. Ginger and the Professor merely looked awkwardly around, avoiding eye contact with the two other men.
"Oh I believe this belongs to you, my dear," Mr. Howell extending Ginger's dress to her, when he noticed her staring at it, absolutely mortified. Ginger bit her lip and extended her hand slowly whispering 'thank you' so she could barely be heard.
"Well at the risk of offending any other youngsters I would kindly suggest you two find a room," Mr. Howell said, grabbing one of Gilligan's arms and leading him away. It was quite plain though that he found the whole situation humorous as he gave the Professor a thumbs-up while he dragged off the mentally damaged first mate who was still shaking his head vigorously and covering his eyes.
…
It was noon, several hours since Mary Ann first thrown up and she was so far feeling much better. However, she couldn't help but notice she still had nagging cramps in her stomach and she feared that perhaps more may come up at any notice. She tried not to let it interfere with her daily routine though. Mrs. Howell had just recruited her for a sewing project which involved making a new dress for the Howell's thirtieth wedding anniversary. She had strolled in the other day with fabrics and flowers brimming over the top of her arms and dumped them unceremoniously on Mary Ann and Gilligan's bed.
"Mary Ann, I have absolutely nothing to wear," Mrs. Howell bemoaned, sitting herself by Mary Ann's vanity table.
Mary Ann, apart from being a little miffed about Mrs. Howell barging into her hut, was ever concerned about her fellow castaway. However, upon inspection of the pile, she would say that Mrs. Howell was definitely stretching the truth some.
"It looks to me like you've got enough there," Mary Ann said good naturedly. She crossed her arms and smiled. Mrs. Howell was obviously not in the mood for such levity.
"Oh you simply don't understand!" Lovey Howell insisted. "Thurston and I will be celebrating our thirtieth wedding anniversary this Friday! Don't you know what that means?" she inquired.
"No, what?" said the ever-curious Mary Ann.
"It means that the traditional gift is a pearl," Mrs. Howell enlightened. Mary Ann studied her still not understanding exactly what this had to do with anything. "Well I simply have nothing to wear new pearls with!"
"But Mrs. Howell," Mary Ann interjected. "What about all these? All these clothes?" she held up a long violet colored gown and a fur trimmed coat. "I wouldn't call these nothing," Mary Ann said eyeing the articles of clothing. She couldn't help but lovingly stare at the violet gown. It was positively silk smooth, probably with an enormously high stitch count, and was as glossy as new satin.
"Thurston has seen me in all those before! You can't possibly expect me to wear new pearls with an old dress!" Mrs. Howell looked scandalized by the very idea.
"Well Mrs. Howell, if you don't mind me saying, how do you even know Mr. Howell is going to get you pearls? After all, there's only so many oysters, finding a pearl in any of them is well – pearls are very rare, Mrs. Howell. And I know how Mr. Howell feels about manual labor…" she trailed off when she noticed that Mrs. Howell looked shocked by the sentiment Mary Ann expressed.
"My dear," Mrs. Howell approached the younger woman. "You must understand something about Thurston Howell III. He adheres to social stature very vigorously. On our first anniversary he gave me the deed to our home in Newport, paper anniversary you know. On our fifth he gave me a beautiful mahogany king-sized bed with Egyptian cotton sheets and silk pillows." Mrs. Howell clasped her hands in fond remembrance momentarily before addressing Mary Ann's befuddled expression. "Wood Anniversary, dear," she clarified. "On our twentieth Thurston spent an absolute fortune on most beautiful china, hand crafted, centuries old. It was absolutely breathtaking." She heaved a heavy sigh, thinking about all her lost treasures. As she reminisced to herself, Mary Ann waited for her to finish. When it was clear how very distracted Mrs. Howell was, Mary Ann made a small coughing noise to bring her back.
"Terribly sorry darling," Mrs. Howell apologized. "I do so miss those things terribly sometimes," she said forlornly. "In any case, my dear, it has now been thirty years and I'm positive Thurston will do something with pearls. There is simply nothing else one can give after thirty years of marriage!" she explained as if this were quite obvious.
Mary Ann shrugged. She hadn't even been married a year, but she knew this much. The presents between her and Gilligan would be spontaneous and personal. She had no desire to follow the anniversary agenda.
"Well, would you like me to help you make a new dress?" Mary Ann finally said, knowing this was what Mrs. Howell had been hinting at the whole time.
"Oh would you?!" Mrs. Howell got to her feet excitedly and clasped her gloved hands. "Oh I have so many ideas!" She put her hands up as if forming a layout in her mind. "I was thinking perhaps an off the shoulder gown, perhaps ecru with a green trimming, or maybe blue to bring out my eyes…"
Mary Ann was often glad to help, but Mrs. Howell was ever the fickle designer. She had changed her mind on the colors several times and she continued to waffle on feather or fur. It was all Mary Ann could do to stay sane. Here she was in her hut now, on her knees and sewing up the sleeve on Mrs. Howell's dress as Mrs. Howell modeled it for her. She seems to be having fun at least, Mary Ann thought as she pulled her needle through the now royal purple fabric. But Mary Ann was barely paying attention to her stitching. She kept thinking about how her stomach felt, and how she highly suspected that she would be throwing up again. She was grimacing thinking about it when she accidently stuck Mrs. Howell with the needle she was holding. Mrs. Howell let out a high pitched yelping sound.
"My dear, that is the sixth time you've stuck me this sitting," said an outraged Mrs. Howell. "I'll have you know I'm not your own personal pin cushion!"
"Oh I'm sorry Mrs. Howell," Mary Ann said sadly, retracting the needle. "I can't seem to concentrate. I'm still not feeling very well," Mary Ann confessed, sighing and putting her hands in her lap in resignation.
"Oh yes dear," Mrs. Howell acknowledged. "I heard all about what happened after breakfast," she said with some finality as if wanting to end the unpleasant subject. It was quite obvious Mrs. Howell did not want to discuss vomit, as it was so very un-lady like.
"Yeah," Mary Ann nodded. "I told myself not to try and use those oysters, but I just hate to waste," Mary Ann said now examining the stitching on Mrs. Howell's sleeve. She realized how out of it she must have been because her stitches looked foreign to her. She began to pull them out and continued. "Anyway I learned my lesson," she said emphatically.
Mrs. Howell pursed her lips as in thought. "Dear," Mrs. Howell brought one finger to her mouth as if working something out. "If it were the oysters that made you – " she frowned, unsure of how to say it. "Ill," she said finally, deciding it was the best word for it. "Wouldn't it have made us dreadfully sick as well?"
This had not occurred to Mary Ann. "Well, I suppose," Mary Ann said slowly, as frightful thoughts began encroaching on her mind. If it wasn't the oysters it could be something much more serious, couldn't it? Mary Ann couldn't help but think. "I hadn't thought of that," Mary Ann confessed, trying to rethread her needle with increasingly shaky hands. "Oh you don't think I could have a stomach virus or something, do you Mrs. Howell?" she said looking up at the older woman.
Mrs. Howell smiled knowingly, reaching her hands down to Mary Ann's. "Do you really want an older woman's advice?"
"Oh of course I do!" Mary Ann said, jumping up, now eye level with Mrs. Howell. "What do you think I've got?"
Mrs. Howell led her to Mary Ann's bed and patted the seat next to her. "Sit down, dear," she said. Mary Ann eyed the spot cautiously, as if Mrs. Howell was preparing her for some very bad news. She tentatively lowered herself down onto the bed, still nervously looking at her older friend as if she were a ticking time bomb.
"If you don't mind me asking," Mrs. Howell began broaching a very private topic. "Since you and Gilligan have been married, have you two…been intimate?"
"Mrs. Howell!" Mary Ann cried "What's that got to do with anything?" said the very appalled Mary Ann. Her nervousness dissipated instantly and was now replaced with utter mortification.
"Well do pardon me for asking, dear," Mrs. Howell said apologetically. "I only brought it up because, well…I thought it was obvious," she smiled, hoping Mary Ann would understand.
"Obvious? I don't understand," Mary Ann said trying to piece together Mrs. Howell's cryptic words.
"Well it's just for the past several days you seem positively alight, if I may so. Simply radiant darling, if you take my meaning."
"No, I'm afraid I don't," Mary Ann said truthfully. She tried to come up with a logical explanation for her vomiting, love making and radiance being referenced like this.
"Well darling, if I must spell it out for you," Mrs. Howell seemed want to avoid bluntness whenever she could. It was so horribly unsophisticated in her opinion. "Have you ever considered you may be," she glanced around as if she thought someone was listening. "Enceinte?" she suggested quietly so as any passersby would be unable to hear.
"Enceinte?" Mary Ann repeated. "Doesn't that mean – " she finally understood. She sat upwards upon her revelation with an involuntary 'oh!'. Mrs. Howell thought she was pregnant!
"Mrs. Howell!" Mary Ann said in a hushed voice. "That's…that's impossible!" she sputtered out.
"Don't tell me!" Mrs. Howell said incredulously. "I know Gilligan's a shy boy, but you must have tried at least once?"
"Yes we have, as a matter of fact," Mary Ann snapped. She hadn't meant to say that, but it wasn't like she wanted to Mrs. Howell to think she had a sexless marriage. Of course, she wasn't sure she exactly wanted Mrs. Howell thinking about her sex life at all, but that ship had already sailed.
"Well then what's the problem?" Mrs. Howell said congenially. The very prim and proper lady seemed to be oddly comfortable discussing sex, which was a little unsettling to Mary Ann. She had absolutely no interest in knowing what Mr. Howell was like in bed.
"There is no problem," Mary Ann said as she detached the sleeve from the dress for better access. "It's just that I can't be pregnant," she said plainly.
"Why ever not?" Mrs. Howell pursued further.
"Because," Mary Ann said, now focusing very hard on stitching up Mrs. Howell's sleeve. "Because!" her voice got a little high, almost cracking. "Because I am only twenty four years old, and – and – and we…we haven't even done it that much," Mary Ann said honestly. She pulled her needle through the fabric, with a slight frown now gracing her face. "At least not as much as Ginger and the Professor," she noted sourly.
"Well it only takes once, my dear!" Mrs. Howell waved her handkerchief as if this were really no big deal. "And don't worry about Gilligan, sweetheart. He'll come around. You should have seen when Thurston and I first got married – "
"Mrs. Howell please!" Mary Ann interrupted. "What goes on in our bedroom is our business. And besides, there's absolutely nothing wrong with it!" she said slightly hysterically.
"Of course there's not dear," Mrs. Howell said in a baby-like voice, offering a comforting pat on Mary Ann's cheek. Mary Ann bit her lip. Granted she hadn't been feeling so great this morning, but she was beginning to feel worse with each passing moment. Mostly because her marriage was being held to Howell scrutiny, a fact with which she was most uncomfortable. She didn't really believe she was pregnant. After all, like she had said, she and Gilligan were only intimate on rare occasion, and even when they did, Gilligan agreed begrudgingly.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Howell, I'll have to finish this later," she said thrusting the sleeve into the older woman's hand and rising. "I don't feel very well," she said stiffly and began to walk towards the door.
"Oh Mary Ann," Mrs. Howell said gracefully rising to her feet. "Please do not misconstrue me, dear. If this is about your 'little problem' you must know that I only speak from experience. I have seen so many young heirs and heiresses in my day. I almost have a sixth sense about them dear. Most women do!"
Mary Ann turned to face her. "I assure you I have no little problem!" Mary Ann insisted.
"Well perhaps not, but if you notice you're unusually tired, or perhaps having terrible backaches it may be worth considering," Mrs. Howell suggested.
"I'm sure it won't come to that," Mary Ann said with the utmost certainty. She strolled out of her hut, leaving Mrs. Howell with half a dress on, bewildered at what she could have possibly said.
Mary Ann had never experienced mood swings much, but she noticed she felt an enormous amount of resentment for Mrs. Howell. She couldn't help but wonder where she got the nerve criticizing Mary Ann's…bedroom habits. And all that nonsense about pregnancy – well! It was just too much.
Mary Ann wasn't sure where she was going, but she needed to clear her head. She had only walked a couple of minutes before she was hit by a wave of fatigue and had to stop. She leaned up against the nearest tree to catch her breath.
"Having a baby!" Mary Ann huffed between breaths. "Of all the silly – " she couldn't even find the words. That or she was completely out of breath. Maybe I should take a nap, Mary Ann considered looking around at the leafy ambiance. She had taken a nap nearby just the other day after being completely exhausted by her daily chores. Suddenly she heard Mrs. Howell's voice, "if you notice you're unusually tired" echo in her head. Oh my, a small voice in the back of her head said. Two naps in one week? Wiped out just from walking a few paces? Sounds like unusual exhaustion to me. A more sensible voice countered this one. That's ridiculous, Mary Ann convinced herself. I'm not unusually tired. I'm sick and I was just walking. Of course I'm tired, she reasoned.
Mary Ann slid down the trunk of the tree and sat in the sand. Oh this whole thing is absurd! I couldn't be pregnant. After all I wouldn't have had my – and she stopped in mid thought reminded about the last time she had had her monthly visitor. It had been awhile. At least six weeks, but she had always been a little irregular, and surely her diet of fruit and fish exclusively must have had some effect on it. No, no that doesn't mean a thing, she conceded. Mary Ann let out a long sigh. What a day. And it's barely noon, she lamented.
She eyed a few wild berry bushes nearby and realized how hungry she was. After all her stomach had churned up all her breakfast so it was now completely empty. Mary Ann let out a pitiful sound. She had been so happy at breakfast too. She helped herself to the turtle eggs twice, the coconut milk three times and extra oysters as well. She normally didn't eat so much but – Oh god! Mary Ann was suddenly struck with how much she had been eating lately. Almost as if for two…
Mary Ann leapt up from her spot on the sand and began to pace. She was now holding her stomach with one hand, the first time even considering something besides food could be inside. She tried to be rational, but her thoughts were racing out of control. She didn't know what to do. I should see the Professor, Mary Ann tried to be reasonable. He'll be able to tell me this is all nonsense. Without a moment to lose, Mary Ann was speeding off to find the only person she could think of who could confirm or refute her suspicion.
"Oh Professor!!!" Mary Ann knocked feverishly on the Professor's door, while simultaneously gripping her stomach as though she trying stop blood from leaking out of a gun wound. Even though Mary Ann had dismissed Mrs. Howell's statement as ridiculous, she couldn't help but be slightly nervous. After all, she and Gilligan had been married for six months, and in that time, she had managed to get him to make love thirteen times (She knew this because she had indeed counted each time. Not only that but, she also wrote in a diary about every time they were intimate as she secretly hoped it might one day be published as a romance novel. After speaking to Ginger about her sex life, Mary Ann realized to the average person, her and Gilligan's love making probably sounded very pedestrian. In her defense though, they were both very new to it). She now knew she was showing signs and she couldn't help but think she wasn't ready to be a mother yet. Yes, despite Mary Ann's certainty in Mrs. Howell's presence, she was beginning to doubt herself.
The Professor, who was quietly writing at his desk, looked up from his parchment at the sound Mary Ann's worried shouts. "Mary Ann?" he questioned, turning back in his chair.
"Oh yes it's me," she called somewhat desperately through his door. "Can I please come in? I need your – " Mary Ann realized the gravity of her predicament. She was going ask the Professor if he could tell if she was pregnant. And she suddenly became embarrassed. She realized while it was perfectly natural to make love with her husband, she exactly want to bring in to anyone's attention, especially the Professor. She could barely stand talking about it with another woman, let alone a man! Being the gender difference and status of their friendship, Mary Ann couldn't help but feel as the whole situation might be awkward.
Mary Ann bit her lip. She trusted the Professor. And besides, if she was pregnant, he and everyone else on the island would find out eventually. She leaned against the door and started again, "I need some help…if you're not busy," she added, her nervousness getting the better of her.
"Not at all," came his voice. "Please come in." Mary Ann hesitantly swung the door aside to find the Professor at his desk with what looked to be dozens of paper packed with his small cramped handwriting. He turned around to her and smiled, "What can I do for you?" he said as he rested his forearms on the back of his chair.
Mary Ann eyed the still open door, and swiftly shut it before she began. "Well," she began as he turned back towards him. He was now shuffling some papers as though he were putting them in some order. "Am I interrupting something? I can come back later," she said, knowing full well her politeness and cold feet were trying to stop her from getting the truth.
"Oh no," the Professor laughed as he put the stack down. "No, I'm just putting the final touches on a book I'm writing."
"Oh you're writing a book!" Mary Ann said brightly, a little hopeful that her problem might be forgotten if she pursued another topic. "What is it about?" she said approaching the desk trying to make out some of the writing, though it was so small it all looked like scribbles from her standpoint.
At this question, the Professor squirmed a little, and looked nervously at the door as though someone might be waiting there. "Well, I'll tell you, if you can promise to keep it a secret." This caught Mary Ann's attention instantly, and she nodded fiercely as she began to lower herself into a chair nearby. "Especially from Ginger," he added. Mary Ann's eye brow lifted and she leaned in with keen interest.
"Why would you keep this from her? She is your wife."
The Professor looked over at the pages and picked one up. He stared at the page for a moment, a faint smile on his lips. "Because it's about her," he said handing Mary Ann the page.
In large, looping script were a few simple words. "Learning Love: A Chemistry Professor's Lesson in Chemistry. By Professor Roy Hinkley Jr."
"Oh my!" Mary Ann said clutching the page to her heart. "This is so romantic," she sighed. "When did you – that is how are you - I mean what inspired you to do this?"
"She did," he said smiling. "See Mary Ann, I have for," he paused to think about it for a moment. "Well, as long as I can remember been very logical and practical. I had no idea how to be any other way. But the day I met Ginger, the day of our shipwreck was a turning point in my life. For years I have been a believer in attraction being the primary glue that holds together a marriage or any romantic relationship for that matter. I had never been in love, so I had no idea what it was. I couldn't explain it so I didn't want anything to do with it. I was so blissfully ignorant to it, I never even imagined it would come find me. And it has! By god it really has! It's quite an epiphany for me, Mary Ann. I have never felt like I do when I'm with her. I know it's more than attraction, because I would do anything for her. I would put her happiness before my own. Because of her, I'm feeling things I didn't even know were possible." He looked away for a moment as if a little embarrassed about speaking these things to another person.
"Perhaps this all seems very foolish but I truly believe she broadened my perspective and made me a better person. More capable of feeling and sentiment. Love is the greatest thing man can ever know and I happen think that there are a lot of people, especially in my field, that would grow from really understanding it. Of course love can't be realized by just reading a book, but I sincerely hope seeing my transformation with broaden others minds. There are too many who resent love and brand it as lust as I once did. That's no kind of life."
"Oh that's wonderful," Mary Ann said, suddenly starry eyed. She knew the Professor cared deeply for Ginger, but she never could have possibly imagined this. "What were you working on just now, anyway?" she said, interest sparked.
"I was working on a chapter about how I first discovered I loved her. Actually, I made reference to you and Gilligan several times and your blossoming romance." Mary Ann's leaned in closer to see if she could spot her own name on any of the pages.
"Oh really? Can I please read it?" The Professor smiled and snatched the title page back from her.
"When it's finished ok? For now," he put the title page aside. He then turned her and put his hands in his lap. "Let's talk about you, shall we? What did you want?"
Mary Ann faltered. She was taken off guard, especially since he got her all drunk on the idea of love. "Um well," she fidgeted in her seat as she searched for the words. "I had a bit of an upset stomach this morning."
"Oh yes, I heard about that. Not to worry. The best thing for an upset stomach is to lie down. If you want I am quiet proficient in home remedies, I can make an herbal drink that might decrease your abdominal discomfort."
"Oh no Professor," Mary Ann said holding out her hand to stop him. "It's not that, see – I was just with Mrs. Howell and she remarked how I was…radiant." The Professor nodded and waited for her to continue. Mary Ann had hoped this would be enough to clue him in, however, he just waited patiently for her to finish her story. "She said that I looked different," Mary Ann tried being subtle again.
"I'm afraid I don't understand Mary Ann. What has this got to do with your vomiting?" he questioned.
"She said that she thought perhaps, that maybe, I might be um…" she tried every expression she could think of in her head. Expecting? With child? In a family way? Instead she decided to opt for hand gestures. She folded one arm on top of the other and rocked her arms as she was rocking an invisible infant. She raised her eyebrows in query if the message was clear. It was; the Professor sat back with a startled 'oh!'
"I was hoping, maybe you of all of us would able to tell the best." Mary Ann clasped her hands, pleading with her eyes. The Professor furrowed his brow.
"Well to be honest Mary Ann, I'm not terribly familiar with obstetrics. My field of practice is botany and chemistry. I have very minor medical training."
"Oh please," Mary Ann begged. "Can't you do something?"
"Well, I know an infant has a fetal heartbeat at about 6 weeks. If you're that far along, I should be able to hear it on my stethoscope. We could give that a try." Mary Ann nodded eagerly. "All right," he said. "Hop up on the bed," he instructed.
Mary Ann took a seat on the edge of his bed as he stood up and pushed his chair out. He walked over to a large cabinet made from woven palm fronds and bamboo poles. He reached inside and retrieved the giant stethoscope crafted from island supplies including the ever practical coconut. He put in the ear pieces and put the half of a coconut shell against her flat stomach and listened intently. He raised his eyebrows and moved the coconut a little to left and listened again. He moved the shell back and forth a few more times before he finally seemed to have reached a conclusion.
"Hmm," he said as he removed his ear pieced and left the instrument hang around his neck.
"What?" Mary Ann said eagerly. "Did you hear anything?" She watched him with great intensity, teetering on the edge of the bed.
"Indeed I did," he said, taking the hand crafted stethoscope off his neck. He put it aside and then turned back to her. He smiled warmly. "It looks like you and Gilligan are going to be parents."
…
Mary Ann could only faintly remember walking back to her hut. She was so light, for all she knew, she could have been floating. She gently palmed her stomach and found herself lost in thought. She was going to be a mother. Her nervousness seemed to vanish instantly as she imagined herself with that small pink or blue bundle. She felt a surge of emotion as she envisioned her tiny baby, waving its chubby fist at her and staring up with Gilligan's eyes and her mouth. She imagined a little boy with a mop of black hair, fishing with Gilligan, wearing his cap. Her mind drifted to a little girl in blue gingham, sewing next to her. She imagined Christmas, lifting the infant to touch a starfish that topped off the tropical tree, and opening his first present. She began to sway on the spot, thinking of the thing inside her that would grow into her child. Her and Gilligan's baby.
She stopped short. Gilligan didn't know about this. How am I going to tell him? She thought instantly. She wanted it to be special. She wanted it to be private. She wanted it to be a moment he would remember for the rest of his life. She bit her lip. I have so much planning to do, she thought as scampered off to her hut.
However, Mary Ann's planning would have to wait as when she got back to her hut, Mrs. Howell was still there requesting that she finish the dress. Mary Ann, apologized for being short with Mrs. Howell, but Mrs. Howell only had her anniversary on her mind and insisted Mary Ann continue with the dress. Mary Ann found herself pinning clothes and sewing up seams for several hours, unable to concentrate on her own dilemma. Right after that Ginger approached her with dinner plans. She spent the afternoon laboring over a special dinner that she had hoped would be a precursor to the most important discussion she'd ever have. However, the fatigued first mate was asleep before Mary Ann even got back to their hut. Mary Ann resigned for the day, and slipped quietly into her night clothes.
Mary Ann was in now bed, but sleep far from her mind. All she could think about was her baby, and telling her husband about it. Mary Ann kept finding her mind drifting back to her home in Kansas where, in Mary Ann's youth she had a small thirteen inch television that had poor reception and was missing the channel up button. On it, she and the rest of her farming family used to sit down and watch 'I Love Lucy' back in its hay day. Mary Ann was reminded of the episode where Lucy tried to tell Ricky about their baby, and between his hunger and busy schedule she almost didn't get a chance to. She didn't want this to happen with Gilligan. She had to be like Lucy, creative.
She sighed. In the time it took her to be creative her stomach would probably be showing already. She had to get it done, even if ambiance and romance were not part of the equation. She propped herself up and looked over at Gilligan, who was lying on his back, one leg on top of the covers and his head turned towards her. She gently nudged her sleeping husband but he let out a muffled moan and rolled over with his back to her. Mary Ann frowned. She just couldn't wait anymore.
"Gilligan," she whispered as she shook his arm a little.
"Idunwantanycoconutcreampie," he said sleepily as he rolled onto his stomach. Mary Ann was about to tap him again when he let out a loud snore, nearly startling her. She realized she was going to have to be more persistent.
"Gilligan," Mary Ann repeated, shaking him harder. "Gilligan, wake up," she said a little louder.
"Huh?" his sleepy voice drifted over to her as he looked over his shoulder at Mary Ann. "Mary Ann?" he furrowed his eyebrows at her. His eyes scanned the room momentarily to see if there was any immediate danger. When he saw none he looked back at her, confused.
"Gilligan, I need to talk to you," she said looking deeply into his eyes which were illuminated by a sliver of moonlight that had leaked in through the window.
A faint smile crossed Gilligan's lips. "We can talk tomorrow, all you want Mary Ann," he said quickly lowering himself back down onto his pillow and settling in again. "Good night," he murmured.
"Gilligan!" Mary Ann said sternly, grabbing his arm and pulling at him. "I need to talk to you now."
Gilligan yawned widely. "Mary Ann, I'm so tired. Mr. Howell said I have to get up bright and early tomorrow to find more pearls for Mrs. Howell."
"I know you are Gilligan," Mary Ann said compassionately. "But this will only take a few minutes."
"How about I promise to talk to you all day tomorrow, if you just let me sleep now, huh? I'll talk to you while I look for pearls and fish and get water and eat and everything ok?" he looked at her pathetically.
"No Gilligan, we need to talk now. It's serious," she said, pushing away her sheets and jumping out of their bed.
"Won't it still be serious in the morning?" he said rubbing his eyes and swinging his legs over the bed. Mary Ann ignored this, and instead walked around to help him out of bed. She grabbed his arms and pulled him up. However, the poor man was so sleep deprived that he began to collapse once Mary Ann let him go.
"Oh Gilligan!" Mary Ann said miserably. "Can't you try to stay awake for a minute?"
"I'm trying, Mary Ann," his sleepy voice said, but his eyes were closed.
"Come on, let's go for a walk," Mary Ann said grabbing his hand.
"Mary Ann I thought you said this was only going to take a minute!" Gilligan protested.
"It will if you just cooperate," Mary Ann said. "Gilligan please," Mary Ann begged.
Gilligan looked at her through his half closed eyes and a shadow of a smile crossed his features. "Okay Mary Ann, I'll try."
She smiled at him and quickly leaned up to give him a quick peck on the lips. She then took his hand in hers and began to lead him outside. When they stepped into the moon light, Mary Ann involuntarily gasped. She was overwhelmed at how beautiful the moon looked when she got outside. The silver rays illuminated everything in sight, giving them the appearance that they were glowing. Fireflies dotted the jungle making it look almost enchanted. She couldn't have asked for a more perfect atmosphere to reveal Gilligan's fatherhood in. "Oh Gilligan, isn't it breathtaking?" Mary Ann sighed, putting her other hand that was not in his grasp over her heart.
Gilligan remained unenthused. "Huh?" he mumbled. "Oh yeah, real pretty," he said half heartedly. Mary Ann cocked an eyebrow at him, slightly annoyed at his indifference to this pristine evening.
"Come on," Mary Ann said pulling on his hand again. "Let's sit in the clearing," she said almost dragging him over to it.
"Okay," Gilligan said. "Can we lie down when we get there?" His words slurred together, giving him a slightly intoxicated like sound.
"Oh I suppose," Mary Ann said rolling her eyes. She stopped abruptly in the clearing causing the sleep derived Gilligan to stumble to try and stop in time. He didn't. He was only vaguely aware he was now lying face down in sand. He could hardly concern himself with it though, he felt absolutely drained.
"Oh Gilligan," Mary Ann sighed, getting to her knees. "What am I going to do with you?" she said shaking her head a little and smiling.
"Whatever you want, Mary Ann," he said, but it was muffled because his face was still in the sand. He had been too tired to even lift his head. Mary Ann scooted herself near his head and gently gave his shoulder a push so he lie flat on his back. She then took his head in her hands and gingerly laid his head on her lap. As she leaned up against a nearby tree, she traced his face with her finger.
"Gilligan," Mary Ann begun. "I know it was a bit selfish of me to drag you out of bed like this, but there's something that's been on my mind all day. Before I say anything, I just want to let you know how much I love you, Gilligan."
"I love you too, Mary Ann," Gilligan said, still tired looking but incredibly genuine in his sentiment. "Is that what you came out here to tell me Mary Ann?" he added.
"No, no, not that," she said. "It's just, I've always felt I was so very blessed the day I got on the Minnow, because it led me to you. And today I believe I am ever more blessed than I could have possibly imagined." She paused, and took in the surroundings before continuing. "And I want you to know whatever happens, nothing will ever change how I feel about you. Anything that happens to us will only strengthen whatever we have Gilligan." She remained silent a moment, as a small boy popped into her head again with a butterfly net and a white cap. "Gilligan," she said. "We're going to have a baby."
Mary Ann expected some kind of reaction, and was more startled that there was none. She peered down at her husband to find that his breathing was rhythmic and his eyes closed. "Gilligan?" she shook his shoulder. "Gilligan I'm trying to tell you we're having a baby. I'm pregnant!" At this sound Gilligan snored loudly and rolled over on her lap.
Mary Ann sighed. She stood up allowing his head to hit the sand. She had hoped it would wake him up, but he didn't even stir. When he didn't she threw her hands up in frustration and stormed back to her hut, both angry and depressed. She had so wanted to tell him while the night was the way it was. Back in bed she couldn't help but think she was right where she had started.
…
Gilligan rolled over in his sleep. He was somewhat awake though because he was thinking about how hard his mattress was tonight. He shifted uncomfortably in the sand. He rolled over once more accidentally hitting up against a nearby coconut tree. He hardly noticed though because the sand beneath him was taking a toll on his back. It wasn't until the coconut fell loose from its bunch that he even knew a tree was there.
"Ow!" Gilligan screeched as a heavy coconut hit him square in the gut. His eyes flew open and he saw himself looking up at the clear blue sky.
"That's funny," Gilligan commented. "I don't remember having a hole in our roof." He sat up and found a coconut lying on his stomach. "Where did this come from?" he said picking up and examining the specimen. He shrugged and tossed the coconut over his shoulder as he continued to inspect is surroundings. He looked around and seemed to notice a bigger problem than having a coconut on his lap.
"What am I doing outside?" he said to no one in particular. He was startled when he was answered.
"I was just about to ask the same question," a voice said behind him. Gilligan jumped at the sound of the voice and quickly got to his feet. He turned around to find an annoyed Skipper holding a coconut that bore striking resemblance to the one he had just thrown.
"I believe this belongs to you," The Skipper said extending the coconut towards the startled young man.
Gilligan grinned sheepishly. "Sorry Skipper," he took the coconut out of the Skipper's hand.
"Oh that's all right, Gilligan," but he still couldn't help but roll his eyes. Every time the boy was around, the Skipper wound up with a bump on his head. "What are you doing out here this early in the morning, anyway?" the Skipper addressed both the questions on both their minds.
"Gee, I don't know Skipper," Gilligan scratched his head. How had he got out here? "I remember something last night but – " he stopped to try and think what it was he actually remembered. "Something about a pretty night," he tried piecing together. "Oh!" he said suddenly. "That's right! Mary Ann woke me up to talk about somethin' real, real important, and she took me out here to tell me."
"Well, what did she say Gilligan?" said the curious Skipper.
"I don't remember!" Gilligan realized. "Something about being blessed and- and something else," he tried lamely.
"Oh Gilligan!" The Skipper took off his captain's hat to swat the younger man. "Why would Mary Ann drag you out in the middle of the night to tell you something silly like that?"
"I don't know Skipper. She was acting real funny yesterday. Like she was different or something, you know?"
"Now that you mention it Gilligan, Mary Ann does seem to be different. Could she be losing weight?" The Skipper suggested.
"Are you kidding?" said an outraged Gilligan. "Just yesterday she took the last piece of coconut cream pie. And the day before that she ate her lobster and the lobster Ginger couldn't finish and she was still picking at mine. With the way she's been eating lately, I'm surprised she's not as big as you."
The Skipper face turned beet red. "Gilligan I ought to – " he took a haphazard swing at Gilligan but missed by a mile as the young man quickly ducked out of the way. "Oh never mind that," he said, trying to put Gilligan's last comment out of his mind. "What could be wrong with Mary Ann?"
"I don't know, but I'm beginning to worry. She kept touching her stomach all day. Maybe she's still sick or something." Gilligan was now looking at the ground, obviously troubled.
"Kept touching her stomach? Are you sure Gilligan?" the Skipper questioned. "I should know what my own wife does, shouldn't I?"
"Yes well," the Skipper said a little humbled. He was beginning to suspect he knew exactly what was going on with Mary Ann.
As if on cue Mary Ann could be seen approaching the two sailors, with a slight bounce in her step. "Hello Skipper!" she greeted him. "Hello dear," she said giving Gilligan a peck on the cheek. Gilligan cast the Skipper a suspicious glance.
"Hey Mary Ann," he said slowly. "You seem…happy."
"Oh that's because I am, Gilligan. I have the most wonderful news!" she said swinging her arms a little as she said so.
"So you're not mad at me for last night?" He couldn't believe it. She had been trying so hard to keep him awake and he fell asleep on her.
"I should say not!" Mary Ann said. "It was my own fault for waking you up when you so clearly needed your sleep," she said putting her hands on the sides of his face. "Besides, I can't stay mad at you," she cooed, putting her index finger on the point of his nose. "Skipper," she turned to address the older man. "Would you mind giving us a moment?" she asked sweetly.
"Will do Mary Ann," the Skipper winked at the two. "Remember Gilligan, you've got chores to do," he reminded before taking off. "Aye aye, sir," Gilligan responded dutifully. "Gilligan," Mary Ann said bringing his attention back to her. "There's something I've been trying to tell you. Something important."
"I know, you told me all that last night," he relayed.
"Yes I know. But I wasn't sure if you were really paying attention then," Mary Ann said seriously. Gilligan averted his eyes, guilt rising in his stomach. "Anyway, Gilligan. I know we've never talked about this, but I this news - well I think it is going to make all our dreams come true. Gilligan," she took his hands in hers. "I'm - "
"Gilligan, my boy!" Mr. Howell interrupted. Mary Ann frowned. Oh what now?! She fumed silently.
"Morning Mr. Howell," Gilligan said cheerfully.
"What are you doing here?" Mr. Howell said incredulously. "You should be down by the bay, looking for rare gems of the sea! I won't tolerate this lollygagging," raged the wealthier man.
"Mr. Howell," Mary Ann tried to say. "Mr. Howell, I was just about to tell Gilligan something very important – "
"Nothing that can't wait for later, I'm sure," Mr. Howell cut her off.
"But Mr. Howell – " Mary Ann said hysterically.
"Now come, come dear. You don't want your husband to be the island bum, now do you?" Mary Ann tried to get a word out but Mr. Howell would not hear of it. "Now don't you worry your pretty head about him. I'll take good care of him," he said putting arm around Gilligan's shoulders and squeezing tightly.
"Come now boy. Those pearls won't find themselves." He prodded Gilligan in the stomach with his cane. "Well come on!" he urged, poking a little harder.
"Sorry Mary Ann," Gilligan looked at her apologetically, just before he vanished into the jungle growth. "It's all right Gilligan," Mary Ann said quietly to herself. "It's all right."
…
Mary Ann swung her legs back and forth over side of the bed normally shared by Ginger and the Professor. After Gilligan had left she decided to return to the Professor's so she could discuss her pregnancy a bit more. She didn't know anything about it and she wanted to be prepared as possible. The Professor seemed to think this also, because he said he had been thinking about checking up on her. She felt positively giddy, despite the failed attempt at telling Gilligan he was going to be a father. She was so happy she wasn't really even worried about it, though she knew of course, eventually the high would wear off and it would be back to the drawing board. For now though it was just her and her baby – and the Professor. It was odd that the two should share a secret together, but Mary Ann didn't want anyone else to know until she had told her husband. Then, the two could break the news to the others, hand in hand, side by side as they were bombarded by questions.
The Professor had promised not to tell Ginger, though, he said to Mary Ann, she seemed to be able to tell he had a secret. "She has an incredible knack for knowing when I'm keeping something to myself. And you know how Ginger is when she's on the prowl for information," the Professor said to her. He laughed, knowing full well, that since their marriage, Ginger had not tried to seduce anyone but himself.
"I know. But keeping a secret can be fun too, right?" Mary Ann said trying to lighten the mood.
It was at that point in their discussion that Ginger happened to seek out her husband for a little mid afternoon romance. He had seemed tense for the last few days and she suspected whatever it was he was keeping from her. Perhaps, in his ever statistical mind he had found rescue was impossible or perhaps something even more troubling. Whatever it was, she wanted to soothe his troubled mind with kisses and sweet nothings. She glided over to the hut she shared with him, to freshen up and hopefully create some ambiance when she heard the sound of his voice drift over through a crack in their door.
"I hate keeping secrets Mary Ann," she heard him say. I knew it, was her first thought. Her interest peaked, she gently placed her hands on the door and leaned in closer. "Especially from Ginger," he added.
"I know, I know," Mary Ann's voice sounded. "But you just can't tell her yet. Not until I'm ready." Ginger leaned back a little and bit her lip. She wasn't so sure she wanted to hear anymore of this conversation.
"Well that goes double for you," the Professor said. "I don't want anyone else knowing what I'm writing about."
"Your secret's safe with me," Mary Ann assured. Ginger gawked at the door, even though she couldn't see the people on the other side. She could not believe what she was hearing. How could he tell Mary Ann was his book and not tell her! "I still can't believe it though," Mary Ann continued. "It's so romantic. I had no idea you could write like that."
Ginger was positively furious at hearing this. Findings in chemistry my foot! she thought ruefully. I have half a mind to go in there and tear it to shreds, she couldn't help but think.
"I'm glad you think so. It's my first try with anything remotely – well you know," he said laughing.
"Yes, I know. And I can't believe you included me!" said a delighted Mary Ann. Ginger nearly did a double take. Mary Ann is in a romantic book my husband wrote?
"Well of course. You're a model of a young woman in love. It wouldn't be a complete story without yours, especially with this recent development." He must have made a hand gesture Ginger couldn't see, but it hardly interested her any. A lot may have cleared up though if she had seen him reference her stomach though. However, all she could think about was how he was seemingly writing about Mary Ann's alleged love story. Probably Mary Ann and his love story. After all why should he write about her relationship with another man? Ginger tried to remind herself not to jump to conclusions, but it was becoming more and more difficult not to do so.
"What about Gilligan?" the Professor interrupted Ginger's speeding assumptions. "I guess you haven't told him yet," the Professor said in the most casual of tones.
"About the book?" Mary Ann questioned.
"No, no. About this," he clarified. Ginger didn't know what 'this' was but she could hardly help from taking a guess.
"No, no, not yet. I'm still trying to think of how to do it. It's a very delicate subject, and I want to prepare him for it," Mary Ann responded. Oh god, came Ginger's voice in the back of her head. She closed her eyes and prayed for him to say something that would counter what she was thinking. She hated to think this way but she couldn't help but sincerely wish that Mary Ann had some disease that she was hesitant to tell everyone about.
"That's true. I'm sure it's going to come as quite a shock," the Professor said. "But in time he'll grow accustomed to it."
"Oh I hope so!" said Mary Ann. At this, Ginger couldn't help but think this was not about any disease.
"Don't think I haven't tried though." Mary Ann added sternly. "It's been killing me! Every time I try to tell him, something happens. It's as if the fates are against me," Mary Ann heaved a sigh.
The Professor laughed light heartedly at her. "Aside from the little problem with Gilligan, how you feeling about everything?" the Professor asked.
"Oh I feel terrific," Mary Ann said gleefully. "I've never felt so wonderful in my life actually. I mean I was a little nervous at first. I felt like things were going so fast and I might not be ready for all this, but as soon as I came and saw you the other day I felt like I was on top of the world."
Ginger let out a terrified gasp. She wasn't sure if she was breathing at this point. Ginger had had her fair share of heartbreak over the years, but this was more than she could take. She put a hand against the door to steady herself.
"I'm happy to hear it." Ginger noted how genuine he sounded about it. "Oh!" he said suddenly, catching the listener at the door off guard. Ginger prayed for a miracle. One last moment for him to say something that would completely negate the connotation of the conversation she had just witnessed.
"I have a wonderful surprise for you Mary Ann," Ginger heard the Professor say. If she had been inside, she would have seen he had handed her a piece of paper that had many sketches of the basinet the Professor planned to build for her newborn. She would have known the joyful squeak that came from Mary Ann wasn't over a love poem, or a flower or even a piece of jewelry. She would have known that when she peaked through the crack in the door that Mary Ann leaping off of their bed hadn't meant she had just been lying in it. She would have known that the hug that followed wasn't a romantic one. But unfortunately for Ginger, she didn't know any of this. And for her, it was the sound of the death knell. Her husband didn't love her. After only six months, he wanted someone else.
...
It had been almost three days since Mary Ann had discovered she was pregnant and still her husband did not know. She should have been discouraged by the fact she could not get him to focus for a few minutes, but if anything the pursuits made her more fervent. She sat at the breakfast table with the others that morning, fidgeting as she barely touched her turtle eggs and crab. Gilligan, on the other hand, sat next to her as he happily shoveled the meal she had prepared into his mouth. He was oblivious to her tension, all though he was the only one.
"Are feeling all right, dear?" Mrs. Howell finally addressed everyone's thoughts. "You look a bit pale child. Perhaps it's the tropical heat," she suggested as she waved a gloved hand towards her own face. "I do believe I've been suffering as well."
"Lovey's worn herself out again, you know." Mr. Howell said jovially. "Those furs weigh a ton!" He and Mrs. Howell shared a good natured laugh, though the others merely chuckled or smiled half heartedly at his humor.
"By god, you all seem to have some sort of bug," Mr. Howell said upon noticing their less than enthusiastic laughter. "I do hope it's not gold fever!" This time most of the others merely grimaced and Mr. Howell seemed to finally understand something serious was going on. He didn't know, of course, Mary Ann was pregnant, and that the Professor was under pressure to keep her secret and of course that Ginger now suspected them of having an affair and this all seemed to manifest itself into a malaise hanging over the table.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Howell," Mary Ann said trying to break the tension. She looked sideways at Gilligan. She had to do something now. "In fact Gilligan and I were just going for a walk," she said, standing up and rising from the table. "Come on Gilligan," she said grabbing his arm.
The young man looked up at hearing his name and noticed his wife was pulling at his arm. "Where are we going?" he said, perplexed.
"For a walk Gilligan," she said plainly, tugging on his arm again.
"But I haven't finished my breakfast," he countered, remaining seated and looking up at her quizzically. Mary Ann frowned.
"You can finish it later," she said, becoming a little more aggressive in tone. She would not be deterred this time. She was going to tell him.
"We can go for a walk later too, right?" said the good natured Gilligan who turned back towards his food. He was about to put some crab into his mouth when Mary Ann's hand shot out and covered his own. She gave him a meaningful look as she lowered the fork to the table. At this point the other castaways exchanged nervous glances. It was only Professor who noted to himself though how unpredictable pregnant woman could be.
"Gilligan, I would really prefer to go on a walk now," she said it slowly, emphasizing every word, hoping he would understand the gravity of subject hand. He didn't.
"What's the big deal?" he said getting to his feet. "The jungle will still be there if I finish breakfast. Besides it'll get cold if I leave now," he said giving her a Bambi-like stare. He thought this was just Mary Ann's way of getting him alone so they could fool around, and Gilligan was well trained in holding Mary Ann off until they were truly alone. He found giving her an innocent look always made her soften and instantaneously become more patient. Not this time though.
"Gilligan," she said sternly, though not angrily. She hesitated before lowering her voice, "there is something very important I want to discuss with you." She allowed her voice to become normal volume again, "so would you please come with me?" She grabbed his wrist and began to walk away.
"What could be so serious besides rescue?" her husband said exchanging confused looks with his friends. They shrugged, signaling their ignorance to the situation as well. Gilligan furrowed his eyebrows for a moment and then a thought dawned on him.
"Are we being rescued, Mary Ann?" he said eagerly, bouncing ever so slightly on the balls of his feet. "Oh I can't wait, I can't wait!" he said grabbing a hold of Mary Ann's shoulders causing her to bob up and down as well. "You're gonna meet Skinny Mulligan, and all the guys back home and mom and pop and – "
Mary Ann grimaced, noticing how he was getting away from her again. "Gilligan!" she interrupted.
"Yeah?" he beamed at her.
"Gilligan," she said, steadily losing her patience. She took one hand of his hands, still on her shoulder, and took it in her own. "We're not being rescued. It's something else." Gilligan frowned, and looked a little bit annoyed.
"Well then, what's so important that can't wait 'til after breakfast? I'm real, real hungry," he made like he was going to sit down again, when Mary Ann yanked his wrist.
"Gilligan!" she reprimanded. "I am your wife!" she was near to tears now. "And I have something very important to talk to you about. Something that will affect our marriage!"
Gilligan still could not wrap his mind around what could be so important. "Okay we'll talk," he said, a little taken back. He hung his head a little and clasped his hands together. "What do you want to say?" Mary Ann clenched her fists.
"Gilligan!!" she wailed. "I said it was private!!"
"Why's it so private? I mean it's not like you're having a baby or anything silly like that," he said, without realizing the impact of the words. Mary Ann looked hurt all of a sudden and Gilligan didn't know why. She bit her lip to hold back tears, but he could see them welling up anyway.
"What, I don't understand," he said scratching his head. Mary Ann stamped one foot in the sand before completely losing it.
"Oh Gilligan!" she reached breaking point. "I am having a baby!!" she cried.
As chaos erupted at the table, a shell shocked Gilligan stood in the middle of all the commotion trying to process what Mary Ann said. So distraught by her plan gone awry, Mary Ann took off into the forest, already tears spilling. Gilligan stood still as his friends and fellow castaways crowded around him, with shouts and cheers. He did not hear the 'My little buddy's going to be a dad!' from the Skipper and 'How marvelous!' from Mrs. Howell, or even feel Mr. Howell try to pat him on the back and shake his hand. All he could hear was Mary Ann's voice announcing his fatherhood.
"Gilligan!" the Professor said trying to snap him out of his trance. "Gilligan, are you all right?" he said shaking him roughly by the arm.
"Little buddy," the Skipper, said concerned. "Speak to me!"
Gilligan's head swiveled over towards his captain, slowly as though he had only just noticed him. "It's really not so serious," he said slowly, as though he wasn't really all there.
"Not at all!" The Skipper said excitedly. "You're going to be a father!" The Skipper placed a congratulatory slap on the back on his young first mate only to send in sprawling into the sand, completely out cold.
"He'll come around," the Professor reasoned, as the Skipper lifted the limp form of the young soon-to-be father. The Skipper, looked down at his limp best friend and then exchanged a nervous glance with the man next to him.
"I just hope Mary Ann will too."
To be continued…