The driving lesson wasn't going well, and Charlotte could sense that Honoria's attention wasn't on it. They were still in the parking lot along the wharf and the only people out and about this early on a Tuesday were fishermen who ignored them.

"I'm s-s-sorry Char," Honoria sighed. "I'll try again."

"It's okay, time's up anyway," Charlotte told her. "Most of it is just building the habit of using the clutch. Be grateful we're not in one of the old jeeps; those took some real strength to shift."

Honoria flashed a smile. "H-how was the speed?"

"Terrifying at times," Charlotte admitted, "especially when Doctor Pierce drove. But you're doing great and you'll be ready for your test by Easter. So what's got you so distracted?"

Honoria gave another sigh and leaned forward, pressing her forehead on the rim of the steering wheel before speaking. "E-E-Everything!" It all came out as Charlotte patiently listened around the stammer: Pamela's insistence on a coming-out party in June; the longing for a part-time job; the cute neighbor two doors up the street and worst of all, her growing fascination with jazz.

"Ch-Charles would b-blow a fuse if he knew I w-w-was taking up the b-b-bass! He thinks jazz is a w-waste of time. Between him and m-mother I'm going nuts."

"Okay, that's a lot on your plate," Charlotte agreed, motioning for them to change places. They both got out of the Studebaker and she settled into the driver's seat before speaking again. "But you've got a right to have a say in your own life, 'Noria. I don't know if we can get you out of the party, but I'm on your side about the job, yes. As for jazz . . ." Charlotte gave a little shrug as she started the car, "Everyone should be allowed to like what they like. I can talk to Charles but I can't promise to change his mind."

"Th-thanks Char," Honoria replied, her smile rueful. "Just b-b-being able to let it out helps. C-can we get an egg cream?"

"Yep."

But what had sounded so good on the drive over didn't sit well once she'd sipped it, and Charlotte scurried off to the ladies' room to throw up as quietly as she could. After flushing and rinsing out her mouth at the sink, she looked at her reflection in the mirror of the diner restroom. "Sei incinta," she reminded herself with a wry laugh.

Back at the booth 'Noria looked concerned. "You o-o-okay?"

"Yes," Charlotte told her. "So tell me about the neighbor. What's his name?"

Honoria blushed and toyed with the straw of her drink. "Ethan. E-Ethan Merrick. He's g-g-got a Golden Retriever n-named Butterscotch and w-walks her every day at f-four."

With a little more prodding Charlotte found out Ethan was majoring in architecture at MIT, wore glasses, and read poetry. On the whole it sounded like a sweet crush and she made sure not to tease Honoria about it too much. By the time they drove back to Myrtle Street both of them were in a good mood.

"Th-thanks," Honoria called to her as she climbed out of the car. "You're the b-best!"

Charlotte blew her a kiss and then headed off towards Boston General, feeling better. She'd gotten extremely fond of her young sister-in-law, and knew the girl was feeling a lot of pressure at this point as the debate over whether to go to college next year or not loomed on the horizon.

Pamela was against it, confessing to Charlotte that it was mostly because of Honoria's speech impediment. "I would rather die before I'd let her face the sort of bullying that will happen," Pamela had admitted. "The world is neither kind nor patient and although Honoria thinks she knows that, she's not ready for the harsh reality out there."

Win tended to agree with Pamela, although he'd pointed out that a compromise of a few classes instead of a full load might work well. And Charles . . . Charles wanted Honoria to take the chance.

"She's strong and she knows herself," he'd told Charlotte. "I'd protect her to the death, but I don't want her to have any regrets either, Beloved. Honoria deserves the opportunity to go to the New England Conservatory if she wants to. I won't hold her back."

Charlotte tended to agree with him. The Conservatory was close enough to Beacon Hill for Honoria to live at home, and still far enough for her to begin her own life. However matters were as yet undecided and the growing tension was beginning to make itself felt in both Winchester households.

She parked and walked in the hospital, going past the admissions desk to the OBGYN wing, looking for Doctor Colman's office, and fighting a little frisson of excitement. Charles had already told her the wonderful news so this would be a confirmation and preliminary physical. Charlotte smiled.

However ten minutes after meeting Aubrey Colman, she stopped. Something about him bothered her, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. He was a little condescending, true, but Charlotte had worked with plenty of doctors who were. He was also a little overly-familiar, patting her hand or shoulder, moving in close as he pressed his stethoscope against her spine and then under her breast.

"Well Mrs. Winchester you seem to be in fine shape," he told her, blinking. "Lovely bone structure for one so dainty and petite."

"Um, thank you," she managed, trying to be polite. He spent a few lingering moments checking her eyes and tongue, his hands cupping her jaw and rubbing it.

"Your husband seemed very pleased about this pregnancy when he came to see me. I understand why now."

Charlotte blinked, not sure what to make of it, but a knock on the exam room broke into the moment, and Doctor Colman stepped back to answer it. A fluffy-haired woman in a lab coat stood there, papers in her hand. "Sorry to interrupt, Doctor Colman, but Mrs. Cabot's asking for you up in the labor room and she won't take no for an answer."

"Ah," Doctor Colman gave Charlotte a theatrical sigh. "I'm afraid this won't take but a moment, dear. I'll be right back." He headed out, leaving Charlotte and the woman behind in the exam room. Once he was gone, the woman quickly looked over her shoulder and then held out a hand to Charlotte, who shook it.

"Doctor Wilhelmina Mayfair. I won't get a chance to say this again and if you report it I'm quite likely to be fired, but for the love of God, don't let that man be your attending for your pregnancy, Mrs. Winchester."

Stunned, Charlotte stared at her for three seconds before slowly murmuring, "So . . . it's not just me."

Doctor Mayfair gave a small humorless smile. "No."

"He's . . . creepy."

"Yes." This came out quickly and quietly. "I saw on your paperwork that you're a nurse, so I think you understand the implications here. Doctor Colman came to us from New York, and was in Philadelphia before that, at each of those hospitals for less than three years."

Charlotte understood, feeling another sort of shiver run down her spine; the sort of sensation when you swerved out of danger at the last minute. She gave a little nod. "Thank you."

Doctor Mayfield nodded back. "You're welcome. If you need a replacement I'd suggest Doctor Klein or Costello in the meantime."

Charlotte felt better, and managed to dredge up a smile. "What about you?"

The woman looked surprised, her thin features brightening. "Ah, yes, I could do it too . . . if you don't mind a bit of non-conformist handling your pregnancy."

"Depends on the definition," Charlotte admitted, "but if it keeps me away from him, I'm sold."

By the time Doctor Colman returned, Charlotte had already finished up the intake paperwork and made her next appointment with Doctor Mayfair.

"I'm sorry but she seems to handle my constant vomiting so well," Charlotte lied sweetly, dabbing at her lips with her handkerchief. "It's terrible really; Twice in your office, and I've ruined three pairs of my husband's shoes already. I can't tell you how awful it is to bring up half-digested seafood . . ."

Doctor Colman looked a little green himself at that and made sympathetic noises. "Yes well then it's for the better I suppose, although . . ." he leaned in again, far too close for Charlotte's comfort, "I'd suggest you take anything she says with a grain of salt. Doctor Mayfield's a bit of a character. Has some strange ideas about childbirth."

"Oh?" Charlotte asked, but Doctor Colman merely smiled and escorted her out, his arm around her shoulders just a little too tight