"I thought I heard you speaking to someone," Louisa said, appearing in the doorway to Martin's surgery. It was late, half 11, and he snapped the lid closed on his laptop and quickly turned toward her there in the doorway. He felt his face flush, and he blubbered about, waving at his computer.
"I was, I mean, I was finishing that consultation for the paper I am co-writing," he explained, his face still flushed as he tried to finish explaining. His eyes looked to Louisa there, her hand on her side, obviously uncomfortable, as she winced while rubbing her swollen stomach.
She was now at 31 weeks here at the end of April. Martin had noted-mostly to himself-that her mood had gotten worse; she was bitter and snapping at him often. He knew her hormones were off-balanced, but he did not particularly enjoy this side of Louisa. He'd almost said something on multiple occasions, but he'd held his tongue. Tonight, she had snapped at him about their meal of fish, complaining that she didn't want fish. He felt as if fish was perfectly reasonable considering they had not eaten it all week. It was now Thursday, and their last meal of fish had been the Saturday prior, and Martin considered fish as a standard staple, at least once a week, preferably more than once a week, but with Louisa's pregnancy, he had allowed her to pick the menu most of the time. Tonight, though, he'd prepared fish, and she'd gotten so frustrated, she'd not finished her meal and had instead made a snack of popcorn, calling it her meal. He'd provided some nutritional information to her about the lack of a proper meal that popcorn provided, but that had seemed to set Louisa off even more. Since then, he'd retreated to his work area, and he assumed she, like James, had fallen asleep.
He realized his mind had drifted slightly, so he looked to Louisa again and found her now glaring at him. He swallowed hard, noting that look of hers. She was still ill with him, maybe about the fish, but maybe about something completely different.
"Did you take out the trash to the bin?" Louisa asked out of left field. His head snapped up, the look of regret taking over his face.
"Ahh, no, I mean, I set it outside, but I got distracted by James. I'll go bin it now," he told her.
She waved her hand, "It sounded like you were talking to someone."
"I was," he offered quickly, gesturing to his computer, and as he did so, she frowned. "I told you I was working on that paper. I had a consultation with the doctor co-writing it."
"Oh, I see," she nodded. "Who is this doctor?"
"Tillman, Dr. Tillman," he said and stood, glancing away from her. "We made good progress."
She nodded as she listened, and then she crossed her arms, watching as he finished for the night. He eyed her and decided to speak.
"Did you get some rest?" Martin asked pointedly.
"No, my back aches. I tried taking a hot shower, but that didn't help either. That only reminded me out bath is so small for me this size. I can barely wash my hair, which is also an irritant. Then, I stepped on one of James' toys as I checked on him, and now my foot hurts-"
"Did you sprain it or fall or anything?" Martin asked, his eyes widening.
"No, nothing like that," she frowned and sighed. "I couldn't see the floor. It just hurts, Martin. I'll be fine, all except for this," she gestured to her large midsection and brushed the hair from her face.
"Right," he said with a quick nod at her and a look away as he stepped toward the door to gesture they should head to bed.
Louisa eyed him, but she didn't make another comment. She went to the stairs while Martin went to finish closing up the house for the night. It was much later when they were both getting comfortable before falling asleep that Louisa spoke again.
"Martin, dinner tomorrow-" Louisa paused almost as if she was asking a question. Martin, who was still sitting upright, positioning his pillows, frowned and looked over to her. He opened his mouth to speak but not before Louisa continued.
"No fish," she said, making a face.
He let out a small sigh and gave her a grunt, "Not to worry. I am expected at dinner with Dr. Tillman. We will be working on this research."
"Oh," Louisa said with a quick frown and a look of surprise. She turned on her side to speak to him. "Well, you hadn't mentioned that."
"It's because it was just decided," he said, gesturing to the stairs where he'd been working downstairs. She has to come to Truro at the end of the week anyway for work, and she decided to add a day early to work on this research. It will be much easier if we are in person, Louisa. Those, those," he gestured with his hand, "video chats are helpful, yes, but they don't take the place of face-to-face interaction."
Louisa, who had been listening, sat up as he spoke, "Wait, Dr. Tillman, you said she. She's a woman?"
Martin gave her a look like she was flat out crazy, "Yes, she, as in a female. Why?"
"Oh," Louisa said with a huff, as she was clearly surprised. "You hadn't mentioned Dr. Tillman was a woman."
"Does it matter?" Martin asked. "I fail to see why it does. You should think that is especially modern. You have a strong feminist streak yourself, Louisa, very independent."
"Well," she said, looking down at the blanket as she picked at it, "I just find it interesting you hadn't mentioned that. You've been having all of these late night chats with HER, and this is the first I've heard of it. Now, you're taking her to dinner-"
"I'm not TAKING her to dinner," Martin bellowed, but he quickly turned red and lowered his voice realizing he was both jumpy loud and that could wake James, and he gestured at her. "We are meeting for dinner. We will each pay. Louisa, she is a colleague. I'm sorry, but I don't see the problem. I work on things with colleagues all the time."
"Mostly Chris," Louisa pointed out to him. "I just find it almost like you are keeping things from me."
He threw up his hands, "She's a doctor. I'm a doctor. We are working together. That is all."
"Does she know you are married?" Louisa asked him pointedly. She gestured again toward the hall, "Does she know you have a son, another on the way?"
Martin's face turned to a horrified expression, "I don't know. She and I don't discuss our personal lives. I don't know anything about her."
Louisa just nodded, "Right, just a cozy dinner. Where are you going?"
"Ahh, that Italian place in Truro," Martin offered, sighing. His eyes widened as Louisa teared up. "What is the matter with that?"
"Our favorite place, Martin? You're taking her to my favorite place to eat?" Louisa asked tearfully.
Martin shook his head, "I don't see the problem, Louisa, I'm meeting her there, not taking her, to yes, our favorite place to eat. That's generally what happens when you eat with someone unfamiliar with the area. She asked where to eat, and I suggested it, saying it was the best food in Truro. That's not a lie."
"So, I'm stuck here with a baby and so heavily pregnant, eating, eating," she gestured with her hand, "well, definitely not fish, and you're going there."
Martin turned slightly sideways to a very emotional Louisa who was now almost huffing or crying or both. He narrowed his eyes and gestured at her, "I have no idea what has happened here. I'm simply going to a work dinner at a place we like to eat. I'll bring you a plate if that is satisfactory?"
"No," she huffed again. "That's not the point!"
"What is the point?" Martin asked in an exasperated tone. "I don't understand."
"Never mind, Martin, never mind. Just make sure she knows you are married," Louisa huffed as she resettled in her pillows.
Martin watched and was quiet a moment, "Louisa, I think you are being irrational. Suggesting that this dinner would be anything less than professional and that I'm maybe unable to be professional myself-"
"It's fine, Martin," she sighed. "Just remember I am carrying your child and home with the other one."
"Right, fine, yes," he told her as he shook his head and turned off his lamp. "I doubt we will even discuss more than this article."
"Is she married?" Louisa asked through a muffled pillow.
"I don't have the slightest idea," Martin offered. "I've known her from London for quite some time. When she wrote and suggested this article based on coastal living conditions, I agreed. It fits both of our professions."
The two grew quiet. Louisa didn't respond to that, but Martin, thinking through the strange conversation that had just occurred, offered, "Louisa, would you like me to make you supper before I go?"
"No, Martin," she sighed, and then, after a pause, offered, "but thank you. I appreciate that."
"Yes," he said quickly. "Umm, goodnight."
"Night, Martin," she sighed again. The room grew quiet as the darkness seemed to settle in with the silence. "Martin," she asked again, and before he could reply, "I suppose I would take spaghetti with meatballs, three meatballs. Oh, and I'll take bread, plenty of bread, oh, and possibly dessert. Cheesecake, yes, that sounds good. It's the least you can do after taking out another woman."
Martin sighed loudly but responded, "Yes."