Chapter Two – A New Generation

Quentin's face held a look of total surprise – and elation. "Pregnant. My girl is going to have a baby." Still in their embrace, Quentin starts rocking her from side to side. "I can't believe it. I'm gonna be a dad." Quentin slackens their hug a bit and looks down at his loving wife. Without words, they each knew each other's thoughts. They kissed.

Amanda, smiling, broke the moment. "Quentin, the agent is downstairs."

Quentin laughed, then mockingly looked around the room with its blank white walls and hostile emptiness. "You know, the more I see of this room, the more I like it." He then stared at his young, beautiful wife. "Or maybe it's the way I see you in this room." He walked slowly up to her, and held on to her again. "A baby. We're going to have a baby!" They looked at each other and laughed giddily. He placed a hand over her stomach. "I hope it's a girl."

Amanda sighed. "A girl would be nice, but what I want most is a boy."

Quentin suddenly became panic-stricken. "No!" He grabbed her by her shoulders. "Don't you ever wish for a boy. Not ever. Do you hear me?" He let go, and walked to a corner of the room, faced toward the wall.

Amanda looked at him sadly, wondering what she had said wrong. "All right. Whatever you say, Quentin." Tears start to fill her eyes, hurt welled up in her throat. She had thought that everything would be wonderful now; they're married aren't they? Away from everything that had plagued them in the past? And now he wanted to fight?

They heard the clip-clop of the real estate agent's heels climbing up the stairs. She poked her head in the door, and said tentatively, "Is everything all right?"

Quentin turned around, and said, "Yeah. We're buying." He turned around, and saw Amanda staring out the window. "C'mon, we need to sign some papers."

She wiped the tears away from her eyes, and walked with him downstairs. She wondered if they would ever be happy in this house – or any house. Whatever haunted him then continued to do so, and she didn't know why.

There they were, at their first doctor's appointment. They were sitting in a semi-crowded waiting room, with a lot of other pregnant women. Amanda was calmly reading one of the medical magazines, while Quentin was gripping the edge of his chair. He had never been in a situation like this. In 1897, there were no such things as obstetricians or waiting rooms; but then, he was never at the birth of his children, either.

"Mrs. Douglas," the receptionist called, in a bored voice. Amanda placed her magazine on the table and stood. Quentin gave her a nervous smile, and approached the front desk with her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Douglas, of course." The couple turned around and faced the doctor. According to Julia, he was excellent in his field, so they had called immediately to set up an appointment. Quentin shook the hand of the kindly stranger. "I'm Doctor Harkins, your obstetrician. Won't you follow me to my office?"

The doctor turned and headed down the hallway. Quentin and Amanda exchanged a supportive look before following. As they approached his door, Quentin held her hand tightly. Amanda whispered, "It's gonna be okay." Quentin nodded, unconvinced.

"Please, sit down," the doctor said, gesturing toward the two chairs in front of his desk. "Now, how long have you been pregnant, Mrs. Douglas?"

"About a month."

The doctor smiled benevolently. "And have you been having any problems?"

"You mean apart from the symptoms?"

"Symptoms?" Quentin said frantically, "What symptoms?"

Trying to conceal a smile, she said, "Morning sickness, delayed per-."

"All right, all right," Quentin said, not wanting to hear more. To the doctor, he said, "That's all normal, isn't it?"

"Yes, quite," the doctor replied, amused by this nervous first-time father. "Mrs. Douglas, I see from the appointment that you do not really need a check-up."

"No, but I do have some questions," Amanda said. "Is it true that doctors nowadays put women under anesthetic?"

"Of course," Doctor Harkins said, looking at the pregnant woman quizzically. "Has your mother never told you this?"

"I never knew my mother," Amanda said, her gaze downward at her hand, that was now holding onto Quentin's as tightly as he was holding on to her. At least she was speaking partly the truth.

"I see. Well, when you come into labor, you'll come to the hospital, where you will be taken directly to the emergency room, and put under to relieve you of any pain. Of course, the only person allowed in, apart from the doctor and the nurses, is you, Mr. Douglas."

"Me?" Quentin was nervously looking around the room, checking for any other Mr. Douglases.

"Yes, Mr. Douglas, you. You are very necessary for support. Are there any other questions?"

"Do you have any, darling?" Amanda said, turning toward her husband, who shook his head fervently.

The doctor stood up, and extended his hand once again. "It was nice meeting you folks. I'm sure you'll be back again."

Amanda gave a weak smile, and Quentin shook his hand. They left the office, and heard the receptionist call another name, equally as bored. As they left the hospital, Amanda started giggling, while Quentin still looked very nervous. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"With today's modern medicine, you'd think they'd have advanced so – but they haven't! The only difference is now they can relieve the poor, suffering mother of her pain."

Just then, a nurse came streaming out, holding a pen and paper, motioning for them to stop. Quite out of breath, the nurse said, "You forgot to re-schedule."

"For what?" Amanda asked, perplexed.

"For a check-up."

"But I don't know when I'll be sick."

"No, no, a check-up for the baby," the nurse said, smilingly.

"I'll schedule it for when the baby's born."

"Mrs. Douglas, you don't understand," the nurse said, now a little irritable. "The doctor checks the baby while you're still pregnant."

Amanda leaned closer to the nurse. "They can do that now?"

The nurse raised one eyebrow. "You do know that you can't do drugs while you're pregnant, right?"

Quentin reached over and grabbed the paper and pen. "How long should we wait?"

"Two weeks."

Quentin smiled famously again, and wrote down the time and day. As he gave the slip of paper back to the nurse, she eyes Amanda suspiciously once more before returning to her station. He wrapped his arm around Amanda's shoulders as they headed back to the car, and said, "I know – it's different. But you shouldn't ask too many questions – people get suspicious."

"I know," Amanda sighed as she put her head on his shoulder, "But this charade is getting so difficult. I take it all back – humans really have evolved technologically."

Quentin laughed, and held her to himself more closely as they approached his blue sedan.

Amanda was sitting outside on the terrace. Quentin had come by to see Carolyn to tell her the good news. She had seemed sincerely overjoyed at their news, but she had problems of her own, all concerning Jeb. Amanda seemed so much on the outside that she decided to come outside. She sat silently, watching the water overflow into the fountain. A rustle captured her attention. She turned around to see her tall, handsome hubby walking toward her. She smiled faintly, then returned her attention to the fountain. He noticed her mood, and sat next to her. "You want to leave?" he asked.

"I don't know," Amanda said despairingly, "I don't know what I want. Carolyn seemed so upset that I felt guilty being happy."

"Oh, Olivia," he said, clutching her from behind, allowing her to rest on his chest. He still called her Olivia because of all the enemy territory around them. "Carolyn will be fine."

"But she seems so depressed," Amanda said, "I wish she'd talk about it, at least. I feel like an outsider."

"You're not, you know," he replied, "Not in my life." They kissed passionately, unknowing that Carolyn was watching them from the Drawing Room window, wondering why her life hadn't turned out as well.