"Daisy, I have an appointment this afternoon so I'll be leaving at 2. Is that going to pose any big problems?" Edith asked, leaning over the half-wall that marked Daisy's desk space.
Daisy's desk was situated across from Edith and Anthony's adjoining offices. On the opposite side of the floor that A.S. Printers occupied were the two other Assistant Editor's offices, Thomas Barrow and Joe Molesly, and their assistant Ivy's desk. Between them lay work stations for all the copy editors, a reception desk served to separate the working half of the office from the conference rooms and the great, antique printer Anthony was so fond of.
Few people knew that Anthony was not just Head Editor, but also the A.S. in the name of the company. Much preferring the creative side of publishing, Anthony left the business end to his Manager of Operations, George Murray, who kept the largest corner office and his own assistant.
"I don't think you have any appointments," Daisy said, scrolling through Edith's schedule on the computer. "That Gregson is on the calendar for next week, just so you know. I don't think he'll be put off again."
Edith growled. "Ugh, I don't know what it is about that project, I just have no interest. Does Thomas or Joe have room for him?"
"No," Daisy said without an ounce of sympathy.
"Alright. Hey, what does Anthony have going this afternoon?"
Daisy sighed dramatically and pulled up his schedule. "He has something at 2 as well. It just says, 'First tri' in the subject line."
Edith worked hard to suppress her grin. She had told him about the 12-week checkup in passing a week earlier, dropping it casually so as not to put any pressure on him one way or another. But she had secretly hoped he would be amenable to going.
"Well, maybe I'll catch a ride with him," Edith said nonchalantly, leaving Daisy to her work.
This was a relatively big appointment. The first trimester checkup usually involved hearing the baby's heartbeat for the first time. Edith had to contain a giddy squeal of anticipation as she sat at her desk.
Anthony came in a few moments later, per their morning routine. "You might actually have me enjoying these things," Anthony mused, sipping his own green smoothie while presenting Edith with hers and taking one of the chairs before her desk.
"Don't sound so surprised, I'm always right."
"Indeed," he said sarcastically, propping one foot on his knee. "So, what are we working on? Where are we with Charlie's children's book?"
"Went to the press this morning, after Mr. Carson approved the final draft."
"Lovely," Anthony muttered, flipping through another manuscript with Edith's edits scratched over it in red. Anthony and Edith were largely in charge of fiction and poetry publications, while Thomas and Joe handled more the nonfiction—cookbooks, guides, and the like. Joe had a particular fondness for sports while Thomas appreciated cooking and fashion. The balance worked out rather well.
"Anthony?" Edith asked while he read. They hadn't spoken about the appointment again since Edith's mention, and she found herself strangely nervous to broach the subject. Copping out at the last minute, when his seaglass eyes flashed up to her, she asked, "Are you going to hire Matthew?"
"Well, yes, I think I might. I mean, nepotism aside, he's rather perfect for the job. Plenty of experience but young and relevant."
"What would you know about being young and relevant?" Edith teased, sipping at her drink and giggling at Anthony's attempted an angry face and failed.
"Anyway, he mentioned wanted to get out from under Robert's thumb, and if we spin it as doing you a favor then it just might work."
"A sort of on-loan basis?"
"Exactly. What do you think?"
"I think it's brilliant. Matthew is really talented and a hard worker, and it'll do wonders for his self-esteem to be able to work without fighting Papa and Mary on every little decision. Plus, he's sort of like the big brother I never had. I've missed him."
"Missed him?"
Edith closed her eyes, feeling an all-too-familiar wave of nausea rolling through her.
"Mary," she began, pausing to take a deep breath through her nose. Anthony leaned forward in concern. "Mary and I have never gotten along, so now that they're married Matthew and I don't see each other as much as we used to as kids."
"That's a shame," Anthony said absently, watching Edith with apprehension.
"Yes, well, everyone here will love him, it's a good fit," she said, breathing heavily. They sat in an anxious silence until Edith relaxed and opened her eyes.
"Better?" Anthony asked.
"Yes. Thank god that passed. Nothing starts my day like vomiting profusely into the waste bin under my desk," she laughed weakly.
"I thought the doctor said it would get better by the end of the first trimester. Shouldn't you be feeling better by now?"
"I do, for the most part. But there are no guarantees with this stuff. I could be sick all the way through," Edith explained, watching Anthony curiously. An awkwardness fell between them, both waiting for the other to speak.
"I, would you like me to go with you?" Anthony finally asked. Edith was so grateful he had broached the subject she nearly cried. "I know your 12-week appointment is today."
"Yes, yes please. If you want I mean. You don't have to, but it would be nice having someone there."
"Good," he said, standing abruptly. Edith stifled a giggle at his unsure demeanor. "I—that's good. I'll go, um, see that Daisy clears my schedule."
"Alright. We should leave around 1:30," Edith said, knowing full well his schedule was wide open.
"Good, splendid. Okay," the man stuttered, leaving Edith's office in a bit of a fluster. He was acting, Edith thought with a thrill, like a man who had just asked a woman on a date. Only their 'date' was to check on a child they had already conceived, after knowing each other for a year.
"It is what it is," she muttered to herself with a shrug, satisfied with the knowledge she wouldn't go to another appointment alone, and pushing all other, more difficult thoughts aside.
By the time they were in the exam room, Anthony seemed to have overcome his nervousness. Until, that is, Dr. Clarkson came in. "Mr. Strallan, I didn't expect to see you. Welcome," the kindly man greeted.
"Is it strange that I'm here?" Anthony asked Edith in a hushed voice as Dr. Clarkson washed his hands.
"Of course not. Relax," she assured.
"Alright, Edith. Why don't you lay back and we'll have a look," the Doctor said, taking a stool by the exam table and pulling up the ultrasound machine.
Edith heard Anthony swallow nervously and would have laughed if she hadn't felt so sorry for the poor man. As Clarkson rolled her blouse up and pressed the camera to her tummy, Edith eyed her body with curiosity. There was definitely a child in there, because where her stomach used to be flat was now the tiniest little bulge, just beneath her bellybutton, as if she had just eaten a rather large meal. However, the reality of her pregnancy didn't truly sink in until Clarkson gave a satisfied little "a-ha" and hit a button.
A strong and undeniable whomp-whomp-whomp-whomp echoed quickly from the machine, and Clarkson pointed a finger at a flickering image on the monitor. "That, Edith, is your baby's heartbeat."
Without hesitation or thought, Anthony and Edith's hands found each other. Unable to tear her eyes away from the screen, she settled for leaning her head into his chest as he bent low over her. Nothing, not even the sound of her own pulse, was as grounding or profound or humbling as that fast little whomp-whomp of her child's heart, alive and well within her.
"There's the head, you can start to make out the nose there, and little hands, and your baby's legs. See that little string there? That's the spine," Clarkson was saying. Edith and Anthony just marveled in silence as Clarkson spoke.
Finally taking a breath, Edith looked up at Anthony. His face was priceless, and Edith knew in that moment she would never, ever forget the distinct look of wonder and fear and pride she found in his features.
"It's fast, the heartbeat" Anthony managed, looking from the little flicker on the screen to the Doctor.
"182 beats per minute," Clarkson said with a satisfied nod. "Perfectly normal."
Anthony's eyes turned to Edith, his stunned expression fading into a crooked grin and eventually one of his rare, full-blown smiles. He and Edith laughed breathlessly as he leaned in and kissed her affectionately on her forehead.
Edith wanted to say something, like 'well done' or 'thank you' or 'please tell me we can be a family' but what came out was "I guess that makes this real."
Anthony shrugged dryly, composing himself, and said, "I suppose if you needed evidence you've got it."
"We'll print some pictures for you," Clarkson said. Then looking at them with a raised eyebrow he added, "For you both. Now, Edith, I've ordered some blood work, standard stuff—iron levels, hemoglobin, that sort of thing. Otherwise it all looks quite excellent. How's the morning sickness?"
"Fine," Edith answered, releasing Anthony's hand to straighten her blouse and sit up. "Better."
"She isn't eating much during the day and she's still sick regularly," Anthony said, giving Edith a stern look.
"Tattle-tale," she griped.
"Well, I'd like you to gain a bit of weight if you can, but you're still within normal range and the baby's nice and big. If the sickness doesn't get better we can prescribe something, but I try to avoid drugs if I can."
"I'll be fine, thank you," was Edith's reply as Anthony helped her from the table.
"Very well. Stop by the lab on your way out for that blood work, and we'll see you in four weeks."
"Thank you, Doctor," Edith and Anthony said in unison.
Waiting for the technician to call her back for her blood draw, Anthony broke the easy silence. "I'm sorry. For overstepping in there with Dr. Clarkson. I shouldn't have said anything."
He looked stricken, as though he had done something utterly reprehensible. Again, Edith was tempted to laugh at him but felt it would be terribly ungenerous of her.
"What on earth do you mean?"
"About the morning sickness. I shouldn't have answered for you."
"Anthony, I'm far too stubborn for my own good. You were probably right to mention it. Please, never feel like you have to hold back about this," Edith said. She almost added, 'Please be as involved as possible' but felt it was too needy, too obligatory.
"It's rather remarkable, isn't it?" he asked with a soft grin, changing the subject.
"Which part?"
"That there's an entire little human in there. Complete with spine and hands and feet," Anthony muttered sheepishly. Edith could tell be the quick shrug of his shoulders he wasn't being maudlin so much as totally and wonderfully sincere.
"It is rather, yes. I don't think I truly believed it until today. In roughly six months' time I'm going to have a baby. I'm going to be a mother."
"Yes, you will be," Anthony said quietly.
He slumped back in his chair and looked at Edith. She couldn't read his expression. Something between honored and gratified and sad settled onto his features. Convention told Edith she should look away, but something deeper and far more powerful kept her eyes locked on his. So much was always unsaid between them, this great dormant thing that neither had the ability or the bravado to stir. Now, in this moment, it came surging up between them, threatening to explode.
"Miss Crawley?" a technician asked, causing Edith to jump violently. The tech was wearing a white coat and holding a folder of paperwork. "We're ready for you." It took Edith a full thirty seconds to come back from Anthony's stare, to remember she was in a waiting room at the hospital, that this person was waiting for her, that Anthony was in no capacity hers.
"I'll, um, be right back," she croaked, wondering when her throat had gone so dry.
Anthony took her coat and bag without asking and said, his tone slightly too purposeful to be casual, "I'll be here, waiting for you."
And of course he was waiting for her, that great something between them cooled and dormant once again, waiting to drive her to their home where they would laugh and cook dinner and read quietly together before going to bed in their separate rooms. As comforting as it was, Edith felt a cold pang of fear trill through her as she wondered if this, their routine, would continue to be enough.