38

Happy Christmas?

Vera's sickness did not let up the next day, or the day after. Each morning, she would get up, thinking she was perfectly well and try to eat as much breakfast as she could. And ten minutes later, she would find herself leaning over the toilet. She would then go back to bed where she would spend most of the day before getting up and taking her mind off her misery by doing things such as reading a novel or talking to Philip.

After another trip to the toilet on the twenty-third, Lombard grew worried and wanted to take Vera to a doctor.

"I'll be fine," Vera insisted. "It's just a really nasty bug. It'll go away on its own."

And when she got sick again the next day, Lombard insisted on calling the doctor to come over and take a look.

"I'll tell you what," said Vera. "If it doesn't go away by tomorrow, or if it worsens, we'll see a doctor. All right?"

Lombard reluctantly agreed to the compromise and tried to take his mind off it.

After all, tomorrow was Christmas, which was supposed to be a happy time of year, right?

Vera woke up on Christmas morning to frost-painted windows and white fluff falling from the sky outdoors. Yes indeed, she woke up with a very good feeling inside. Perhaps she was no longer sick! Perhaps she could now enjoy the holidays in peace.

She yawned and stretched and slowly got out of bed. It was when she stood up that she realized how sore she was. It wasn't just her back; she felt sore all over.

Well, perhaps she'd feel better after a nice, long hot shower.

Just as Vera was about to make her way to the nearest bathroom, however, Lombard opened up the bedroom door and said, "Merry Christmas, love." He gave Vera a peck on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas to you too," said Vera, smiling.

"How are you feeling?" asked Lombard.

"Sore," sighed Vera. "But so far, my stomach is behaving. Perhaps I just had a nasty bug that's gone now."

Lombard smiled. "There are presents waiting for you in the closet. Let's open them now."

"Only if you open yours first," Vera smiled back.

Throughout the day, Vera would be struck with brief waves of nausea that would disappear within a few seconds once she nibbled on some crackers and drank some milk. Other than that, she was having a wonderful Christmas so far.

But it was not the presents that made Vera shed tears of joy. What made her cry was thinking about how she might not have seen herself fall in love, get engaged, make love for the very first time, patch things up with Hugo, and see this year's Christmas had the boat arrived later.

Yes, Christmas was indeed a sentimental time of year; it was a time of love, happiness, joy, and most of all, peace.

Neither she nor Lombard knew that all this was about to come to an abrupt end...

They were to arrive at Richard and Evelyn's at seven-thirty PM for Christmas dinner. It would be rather big, for it wasn't just Vera's family arriving, it would also be the Barclay's and Philip's mother.

Vera began to get ready at around six-thirty, exactly one hour beforehand. She and Philip would be leaving in just ten minutes and she wanted to look her absolute best.

While Philip was in one bathroom taking a shower, Vera (who had just finished hers and was feeling a bit better) had changed into a beautiful pine green velvet dress and white stockings and was now giving her hair, soft and fluffy, a few final brushes just to make it look nice and neat.

She could hardly wait to see her mother again. It had been a while since the two had last spoken to one another, and she realized now that she terribly missed her mother. The two had been quite close throughout Vera's lifetime. They had been there for each other through the good times and the bad, from when Vera fell ill with the Spanish influenza, to when she had gotten her very first period, to—

Her period.

Vera sat up sharply and put down her hairbrush. When was her period supposed to arrive? Was it supposed to arrive now? Or was it supposed to have arrived the day before?

During her first few years of going through puberty, Vera's period had been a bit off-track. It was only when she was fifteen that it finally seemed to arrive at a precise time. This was how it was until after the incident with Hugo and Cyril, after which her period began to change. Afterwards, she started getting it on the sixteenth of every month.

Of course, that changed after Indian Island—the doctor had said it was perfectly normal for periods to change after undergoing extreme stress, which was also the reason for hers to change after the first major stressful event in her life. Her period had arrived a week later than usual, but after that, it seemed to get back on track. Afterwards, she started getting it on the tenth of every month.

The tenth.

"And it's Christmas," Vera whispered. "The twenty-fifth."

Her period was late.

Her mind started racing. She and Philip had only slept together just the one time on Indian Island.

Which was on the third.

Which was exactly one week until the tenth.

And the tenth had come and gone.

And she still had no period.

This thought continued to haunt Vera when she and Lombard began to walk down the street to Richard and Evelyn's. She mentally tried to calm herself down: Relax, Vera, just relax. There's probably a perfectly reasonable explanation for your period being late, other than...pregnancy. You can't be pregnant, you just can't! Perhaps it's just the stress from the move...

But the move didn't take place until nine days after your period was overdue, the rational side of her brain argued.

Well, yes, but maybe there's just some sort of...hormonal imbalance going on right now for reasons you can't name but a doctor might be able to, which would account for your other symptoms...wait, symptoms, that's it! Mother never did say what the symptoms of pregnancy were, other than a missed period.

Which is the most obvious sign. She herself said she wanted you to discover the pleasures and pains of pregnancy on your own.

But she never said what those pleasures and pains were exactly. It's possible the symptoms are not what I have after all...

What about Fleta? What about Evelyn? Remember when they got pregnant? Remember waking up to the sound of Fleta retching in the bathroom? Remember what Evelyn told you about the discomforts of her pregnancy with Derek: "I'm sick every morning, my breasts hurt, and I can smell everything"? Sounds a lot like what you're going through right now, doesn't it?

"You all right?"

"What?" said Vera, snapping out of her self-arguing. "Oh, yes! I'm just a bit excited, that's all. It's been a while since I last saw mother and father..."

"I sure do hope my mother has been able to forgive your father," said Lombard. He and Vera were now walking up to Evelyn's front door.

"Well, it's been a month," said Vera, trying to keep her mind off of her worries. "I'm sure she's forgiven and forgotten by now. After all, he didn't intend to get as nasty as he did."

Lombard rang the doorbell. "Hopefully, my mother has kept in mind that everyone makes mistakes."

Vera nodded weakly. "Yes," she said. "Everyone makes mistakes."

"Would you like some more turkey?"

"Oh, of course!"

"Pass the salt, please."

"Oh thank you!"

Although Vera hadn't entirely forgotten of her dilemma by suppertime, she had told herself that she would see a doctor tomorrow and that in the mean time, she should forget about her problems and enjoy the evening.

As Lombard had hoped, Carolina and Mr. Claythorne had buried the hatchet with one another and were cheerfully chattering away as though nothing had ever happened.

"Congratulations on your finally finding a job," said Carolina. "I hope you're happy with it."

"I'd be happier with my own business, but it'll have to do for now," said Mr. Claythorne.

For once, the Barclay's were actually behaving. Not one quarrel was begun.

"How's my darling grandson doing?" asked Mrs. Barclay.

"He's growing like a weed," said Richard. "Much, much too fast! It seems like only yesterday we were just taking him home from the hospital."

"He's into everything now," added Evelyn. "We can't keep our eyes off him for even a second or else he'll be getting into the pantry!"

Vera closed her eyes and moaned softly. The nausea was back...the smells...oh the blasted smells...

"You all right, dear?" asked Mrs. Claythorne.

Vera's eyelids fluttered open. "I'm fine, mother," she replied. "I just overate, that's all. I'll be back in a few minutes."

She got up from the table and walked into the living room to give herself a few minutes to recover from the smells threatening to overpower her.

While she was away, Lombard couldn't help but think, Poor Vera. Well, I suppose we all overindulge during the season. Although come to think of it, Jennifer used to excuse herself from the dinner table whenever she was overwhelmed by all the food.

And that was when she was pregnant...

Lombard blinked and shook his head. He chatted with Richard about how the stock market was pulling itself back on its feet and how he himself didn't know what career to undertake now that he knew for certain he never wanted to accept any offering to go anywhere ever again, no matter how much it was worth.

When Lombard was about to list off some of the jobs he had in mind, Vera came back, her cheeks flushed. She resumed her place next to Lombard.

"Feeling better?" asked Mrs. Claythorne.

"Yes, of course," said Vera. "I just needed a few minutes to settle down. You see...I've had a nasty bug for the past few days and I thought it was gone, but part of it is still there."

"Oh," said Mrs. Claythorne sympathetically. "Poor dear."

"You shouldn't have come then," said Evelyn. "Not if your stomach was still upset."

"Oh it isn't upset right now," said Vera quickly. "Just a bit...unstable."

"Well, I'll serve you some of the gentler foods for dessert," said Evelyn, getting up.

"Would you happen to have any chocolate cake?" asked Vera, suddenly tasting the rich, delicious substance of chocolate cake in her mouth.

"Sorry, but I didn't make it this year," apologized Evelyn. "I'll make some for you when you come back for the anniversary party, though."

Jennifer had peculiar cravings, Lombard realized.

Vera yawned and stretched her arms.

"Tired, dear?" said Carolina gently.

Vera nodded. "It's been a long day," she explained.

"I understand," said Carolina. "The excitement of Christmas can really take it out of you."

Lombard had to agree on that point...and yet he couldn't quite forget Jennifer's constant naps during the day...

Evelyn was now serving dessert: Bread pudding. While everyone was taking a piece for themselves, the sound of carollers could be heard outside: "Silent night...holy night...all is calm...all is bright...round yon virgin mother and child...holy infant so tender and mild..."

The carol itself was touching enough to make many of the women's eyes brim with tears. Lombard began to shrug this one off to women's sensitivity...until he noticed that Vera really began to tear up at the words "mother and child, holy infant so tender and mild". She was quick to wipe the tears off her cheeks with her hand, but not quick enough for Lombard not to notice.

Jennifer was oversensitive over the smallest things...and she knew long before I did...

Does Vera know something I don't?

Yes, this would be something he would be asking her about once they were home.

He had made the mistake of not realizing what was happening to his first love once.

And he was not going to make that same mistake again.

Later that night, after all the gift exchanging and returning home, Lombard and Vera had changed into their pyjamas and were now sitting on the edge of the bed. For the past five minutes, Lombard had tried to ask Vera the question he knew he had to ask, but she would keep interrupting him by babbling on about how wonderful the evening was.

"Wasn't tonight just wonderful?" sighed Vera.

"Really?" said Lombard in a mock surprise tone. "I wouldn't know; after all, you've only mentioned it three times already." He then said in a more serious tone, "Vera, I need to ask—"

"And that carol was beautiful, wasn't it?" sighed Vera. "I've always loved carols—they can get annoying if they're all you listen to, but otherwise, they're quite beautiful. Especially about the part about the infant being so tender and mild. It is true, isn't it? Babies are so precious."

"True, true," said Lombard quickly. "Vera..."

"And that dinner was absolutely—"

"Vera."

Lombard now had to take Vera by the shoulders and (gently) pull her to face him. He was not going to let this opportunity to slip by.

He looked her in the eye and asked the question he had been longing to ask ever since dinner: "Vera, are you pregnant?"

Vera tried to look elsewhere, but Lombard took her hand in his and gently said, "Vera."

Vera finally managed to softly say, "I think I am."

There was a moment of silence before Lombard said, "Then we might as well see a doctor tomorrow."

"Yes," said Vera, uncomfortable. "We should."

And the two went to bed without another word.