A/N: Whew! Voila! The long-expected ninth chapter. Sorry for the wait, after a full week of posting consecutively. I'm preparing for the beginning of term so I fear that the chapters will be coming a little less regularly. Sorry, dear readers. Anyway.

I have never owned and never will own anything mentioned in SM's Twilight saga. She is a God. I am a poor student. Enjoy.

Chapter Nine: Expecting

Five, almost six months pregnant felt wonderful. And terrible. And frightening. All at once. Some nights I woke craving chocolate, others I wanted eggs. As the child inside me grew, the passion I felt for Edward grew, too. I wanted him to hold me the same as he had on our wedding night, and over and over again, he refused me.

"Edward, please," I begged, clinging to him. He sighed in exasperation and looked me up and down once. I blushed. The negligee I had worn to bed had scrunched up around my hips during my attempts to change his mind.

"No, Bella," he said as he pushed my hands away from his nightshirt. I looked away as my face fell, fighting back irrational tears. Heat rose in my face and neck as the feeling of rejection washed over me.

"Bella?" I heard alarm in his voice. "Bella!" he ran his fingers desperately over my tear-streaked cheeks, wiping away the moisture.

"You… don't want me..?" I whimpered through the sobs that suddenly wracked my body.

"Oh, Bella, of course I..!" he made a frustrated sound in his throat, his pained expression darkening to a scowl. "As if it isn't hard enough, without all this..!" he said as he grabbed a fistful of the satin and lace at my thigh. "Of course I want you, Bella… But it's too dangerous with the baby! Be patient… I can love you other ways," he whispered, kissing my lips gently.

But it wasn't the same. And my frustration grew, along with my moodiness, as the fifth month ended. Then, on March 27, 1918 I felt all of it melt away in a single moment.

I gasped as the baby inside me nudged me from the inside. I placed my hand over the spot in surprise and grinned when he kicked again.

"Edward!" I cried from my chair in the parlor, my eyes wide. He came running immediately, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, my apron folded in half and tied at his waist. I couldn't help but giggle.

"What is it? What's wrong? Has something happened?" he asked in nearly a panic, taking in my figure. I laughed and held out my hand to him.

"Come here, give me your hand! He kicked!"

I watched as Edward's eyes widened in wonder and a smile lit up his handsome features.

"Really? Where? Is he still?"

"Mmhm. Here." I held his hand to the spot and smiled as he stared and smiled. He cooed over my swollen stomach, kissing me through my dress where the baby kicked.

"Hello little one…"

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" I asked, leaning back in the rocking chair, running my fingers through Edward's hair.

"You imagine the baby to be a boy don't you?" he said tenderly, kissing my swollen stomach again as the baby kicked.

"Yes."

"I would have a little girl. With your beautiful eyes, and chocolate hair, and blushing cheeks. But I'll be happy either way, so long as he or she is ours."

Both of us jumped when the shrill ring of the telephone cut through our moment. Edward sighed and kissed my cheek before rising and going to the hall.

"Hello? Edward Masen speaking."

There was a long pause, then Edward's tone changed. I pulled myself up, going to the doorway.

"What do you mean, Mother? What's this about Father..?"

I paused before the hall, not wanting to intrude but worried about Anthony. He had been ill for the last week. He had even missed the baby shower – not that I minded. I didn't want the fuss, anyway. The only reason Edward had allowed it was because of Elizabeth's insistence. He knew how much I hated parties.

"I… I see. Alright. Thank you, Mother. I'll be there after dinner. I'll see you soon."

Edward hung up the phone, his expression guarded as he turned to me.

"Is everyone well?" I asked lightly as he wrapped me in his arms.

"Yes… Father's gone to the hospital. We have some good news, though." Edward's eyes and smile lightened. "Mother reports that you and I have evened up with the creditors. I'll double check of course, but I think we're finally on the up and up."

"How long has it been? A year?" I laughed, kissing his cheek.

"It would have been longer if not for you, Bella. You've given up so much to further our efforts…"

He kissed me then, and I temporarily forgot about my worries.

Dinner was a casual affair. Edward hadn't allowed me to make our meals for three weeks now, ever since the pain in my pelvis had gone from a dull ache to a stabbing pain at times. Tonight he served shepherd's pie with iced tea to drink. We ate in silence, sharing a loving look now and again, but a kind of tension hung in the air. It was an anxious energy that radiated out of Edward, and I wondered how much he was hiding from me.

Probably as much as I'd be willing to hide to keep him from hurting.

After dinner Edward led me to the parlor. It was our habit now to sit here in the evenings after suppers. He sat at the piano while I meticulously embroidered the baby's bonnet. Now that we were finally in the financial clear, I hoped we could start working on the baby's room. Edward wanted to hire someone to paint fields and flowers and lambs all over the place. I wanted sky blue paint with maybe a white duck border.

Edward stopped suddenly and I looked up to see him with his hands in his hair, his eyes agonized.

"Edward? What's wrong?" I asked. My voice shot up an octave as I reacted to the pain on his face. But as soon as I had worked myself into a panic, Edward's brow smoothed into placidness with only the tense set of his lips and eyes revealing that it was indeed a façade. His arms wrapped loosely around my hips and he rested his cheek against my swollen middle.

"I'm just tired, darling. Let's go to bed, shall we?"

"Are you sure you're fine, Edward?" I said softly, stroking his bronze hair. He nodded mutely against my stomach. We both felt it when the baby inside me moved.

"I cannot wait to meet him or her," he whispered. The tightness in Edward's face disappeared when he spoke about our child.

"Neither can I," I answered in a soft murmur. Edward sighed and rose slowly to take my hand and lead me upstairs.

Neither of us spoke as we dressed for bed. Edward blew out the lamp on our bedside table and carefully drew me against his chest. His larger hand covered mine as I cradled my abdomen and relaxed into the vibrations of his chest as he hummed a lullaby.

In the morning, I woke to find Edward absent from his side of the bed and a breakfast tray in his place, as usual. It had been over a month since he had allowed me to cook for him before work. I found myself wishing, for the millionth time, that Kate had been there to help ease his burden. And as soon as I thought it I sent out a silent prayer that she was happy, wherever she was.

After breakfast, I made my way downstairs. It occurred to me that I quite disliked the sorry soul who came up with stairs. They were a menace. A horror on the face of the earth that ought not to have been invented. A torture mechanism for those like myself: a girl with two left feet and a dubious sense of balance. But by some miracle I only stumbled slightly once, and quickly regained my balance. I sat in the picture window in the parlor, propped up against a mountain of pillows as I picked up my sewing.

The doctors had told us that the baby would be born in June, and I only hoped that I would be able to finish stitching together his communion dress and outfits before he arrived. With my slow pace, who knew? My poor boy might have to wear diapers and nothing else for a month or two.

The silly pattern on the pamphlet was quickly earning my hatred. My fingers were sore from pricking myself so often. Aggravated, I turned to knitting.

The needles clicked together. The grandfather clock in the corner groaned out a steady tattoo.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Click. Cli-Click. Click. Cli-Click.

I would drive myself mad sitting around all day. Listening to my sanity tick-tocking away. I hated doing nothing. I wanted to go get groceries, take lunch to my husband, visit Charlie and Elizabeth while I was at it.

Who said just because I was with child I couldn't be out and about? Was the swelling of my stomach something to be ashamed of?

I was married for crow's sake! Happily married! For nearly a year, now!

And I would sit on my bottom, knitting, no longer.

Excited by my somewhat rebellious decision I mounted the treacherous stairs and went up, careful not to trip, ultra-aware of my steps.

It took me an annoyingly long amount of time to put on my walking dress. The empire waist was designed exactly for my advanced pregnancy, but still it was difficult to manage the buttons in my swollen state.

I slipped on gloves and a jacket, pinning up my hair and pulling on a hat on my way out.

Oh, to be free! It felt like ages since I had felt the open air. True, it was still a little chilly for my tastes, but the sunshine felt wonderful on my skin. The people on the walk that tipped hats didn't make me blush for once. I stepped past a couple parked cars and hailed a cab. It wouldn't do to walk too far like this. The driver dropped me at one of the many groceries. I bought chicken, some pork, a little beef I could use for a roast, eggs, bread, and some French cheese. At the deli next door I purchased two corned beef sandwiches with potato crisps.

From there it was a five-minute walk to the firm and courthouse.

I had forgotten the marble steps that led to the door. A secretary – I recognized his face but couldn't recall whom he worked under – helped me in. I was in the middle of thanking him when the atmosphere of the place hit me.

The usually bustling office seemed to be in a state of grieving. No one wore all black, or armbands, but every expression was forlorn. I felt a little sick, remembering again Edward's brief conversation with Elizabeth over the phone, and ran a soothing hand over my suddenly restless baby. As per usual I was escorted to the elevator and directed to my husband's office.

Before he could leave, I put my hand on the receptionist's arm.

"Did something happen to Mr. Masen?" I asked a little tremulously.

He eyed me sympathetically, nodding a little. He knew I wasn't speaking about Edward.

"He's been quarantined, ma'am… The Masen house – the whole o'Astor street has been-"

"That's enough, Jason," snapped Edward, swinging the door open. His glare was so intimidating it was a wonder the poor boy didn't cringe.

"Yes, sir."

Edward pulled me into his office gently and returned to his desk, sitting and leaning over its surface with his head in his hands.

"Quarantined?" I asked, feeling the blood drain from my face. I knew what that meant. It meant the Influenza. Healthy people, people to look after the sick, wouldn't be allowed in. And the sick ones wouldn't be allowed out.

Edward's only response was a curt nod.

"What about Mother?" I squeaked.

"She's fine. She's being seen by a physician to make sure she's not infected. Once she's been released, she'll be coming to stay with us.

"And Father..?"

I was met with silence.

"Does Charlie know?" I felt myself start to panic. He had been spending more time with my father-in-law than I had recently.

"He's being checked too, but I wouldn't worry…" he sighed dejectedly, pinching the bridge of his nose as if it would relieve the pressure building in his temples.

I sat there in silence for a moment then went around the desk to rub his shoulders and neck gently. I took off my gloves and massaged his shoulders gently, kissing the back of his head.

I wanted to cry. No one was kinder than Anthony.

"What are you doing here, Bella?"

"I couldn't stand being in the house any longer," I said a little ruefully. How silly. Worried about boredom when this was looming over him… "And I wanted to bring you lunch."

I pulled Edward's paper-wrapped sandwich out of my basket and sat beside him, unwrapping my own. The chips were all gone – I had succumbed to the urge to snack on the way.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I-"

I put my hand over his lips lightly.

"Please don't apologize and make me feel worse for worrying you more."

He sighed and kissed my palm, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I love you."

"A little too much, I think… But you have to admit. It's nice to be together a little more often, don't you think?" I teased, trying to make him forget, even for just a moment, that we had more pain to face together.

"Definitely."

But the sanctuary of each other's arms couldn't protect us from it completely. I felt like bad luck must be my secret lover. The people I cared for seemed to fly from me.

Edward Anthony Masen, Sr., was put to rest 30 March 1918. None of us – that is, Charlie, Elizabeth, Edward, or I – saw it happen. The doctors said he died in his sleep, between fits of chills and fever. The house remained quarantined. We were given Anthony's ashes on March 29th. And soon after, Elizabeth came to stay with us.

None of us were the same. We felt Anthony's absence more acutely than anything else. And as the number of quarantined sections of Chicago rose in the Tribune, and the number of doctors available rapidly deteriorated – for they were not immune – and the reports of children, elderly, and not-so-elderly died, we waited. We anxiously prayed for a reprieve so that perhaps our child could be born and avoid the danger of illness, all while we truly expected more tragedy, more loss, more pain.

A/N: AND THE PLOT ADVANCES! I had a lot of difficulty writing this chapter. It took a little while to figure out what I was going to do to get this moving. I still have a lot of time to account for.

I've decided that I'm going to take this past Edward's change. Keep reviewing please! It'll keep me motivated. :P I promise there will be a happy ending, after a sort.