Chapter 4 - Teacher II

I tried to ignore Louisa's icy stare as I said to her, "You know the Marrack boy has a rare genetic deficiency…."

"I know of it yes, and that's why he misses school," Louisa snapped. "And just how does that play into Frank's recent grade slump? And why, oh why, Mar-Tin is it my fault; that is my school's fault?"

I sighed, for was there no way to have a civil conversation with her? "Right, some days," I told her softly. "But as I am certain his mother explained?"

"No, not really. Mrs. Marrack isn't a great conversationalist, just told me that Frank would be up here - in your surgery - every other Wednesday is all." She relaxed slightly. "I knew it was medical so I didn't pry."

I took a breath. "As you know genes control any number of physiological processes in the human body, such as you. For example the fetus inside you is growing and developing under the control of a myriad of genes, while other genes under the control of your maternal and placental hormones are preparing your body for the birth."

Her hand went to her bump and she stroked it while her other hand joined its partner for a few seconds and then returned to the tabletop. "Our fetus."

The way she said it made me wince. "Ehrh, yes."

"Martin! It's not THE fetus, Martin. It's our baby. Fetus sounds so, so medical-technical." Now she looked across the table at me with eyes that seemed to be nearly tear-filled.

I felt something inside me break. "No, oh Louisa… I didn't mean to…" Impulsively I reached across the table to lightly touch her outstretched hand.

Her fingers twitched and in a lightning move grasped mine in what seemed a nearly desperate grip; fingers entwined as close as it was possible to be. Then we just looked at each other; just looked.

She was so beautiful, and I had treated her badly. Here she was pregnant and the butt of jokes - 'unmarried and up the duff by that tosser, the Doc' was the phrase. I'd heard it whispered too many times.

She cocked her head to one side. "You and me," she sighed. "We have a situation, don't we?" She looked at her swollen belly. "And him or her; the three of us."

"Louisa," my hand tried to pull away from her but she held me fast. My thumb began to stroke the back of her smooth hand. "You do know that I will do anything that is necessary to support our child."

She almost smiled. "Our child. Glad to hear you say it."

"Do you want to get married?" came out. "Or we could…"

Her eyes went wide. "Mean that?"

"Of course I do!"

She looked around the kitchen. "You, me and little fetus here, not so little now it is? Getting' bigger; like a whale."

The baby book I read told me that a depressed body image was extremely common in pregnant women. "Bigger, yes."

Her eyes went wide. "So I'm bigger than a whale?"

"No, no, it's just… thirty-three weeks, things are..." I stopped myself. Part of my brain was focused on two of those things which were engorged, round and large and straining her dress; larger then when we had been a couple and made love several times. They were perfectly kissable last Fall; perfect in every conceivable and wonderful way and now they were fuller, and, good Lord, Martin! Stop it with the mammary fixation! "Natural. Natural development is what I mean." But her skin, face, hair, legs, and arms… all so lovely and lovable, a few months ago. I felt a warm flush spread into my groin, to my chest, and my face got warm.

Louisa shook her head and chuckled, just a little. "More of me to love," she said. "Oh no! I mean, just…" Her hand dropped mine like a hot potato and went to her mouth. "I didn't mean… that... we… you… that I want to…" she turned up her nose. "We agreed we're not suited, didn't we?"

My mouth was filled with dry sand. I could only nod to her in agreement.

She nodded back. "Better move on from that. You were talking about Frank Marrack?" Her lip sprang between her teeth in the way she did when she was uncomfortable. "Go on."

"Frank's disorder means that he needs a biweekly infusion of a laboratory made medication which provides his system with the needed enzymes so he can breakdown byproducts of digestion. I am administering those infusions on those Wednesdays."

"I see. And how long will he need these infusions?"

"As long as he lives, unless medical research can determine a way to replace or augment the defective gene he carries."

"His whole life?" she nearly shouted.

"Yes."

Her mouth opened like a fish, then it closed and a tear trickled down her left cheek as she began to cry silently.

So, I pulled my clean handkerchief from my pocket and gave it to her. "Here."

She dabbed at her eyes, wiped her cheeks, and blew her nose. "Thanks Martin. Sorry. I get a bit emotional. Hormones, I guess."

I knew better than to answer that, for she'd once gotten quite cross when I implied that she was under the control of hormonal changes. Some women could be quite moody during pregnancy and it was possible that her reaction was hormonal or gestational? I had nothing to add to what she said.

Louisa slumped in the chair. "That poor boy. Poor mum as well and her husband left her."

"But the treatment is working. He has responded quite well in fact."

She held the crumpled kerchief and twisted it. "Whole life. I knew he had been ill."

"Yes. Some children with his condition over time can develop an enhanced reaction and then receive intravenous infusions every month or so."

Her slim hands were strangling my kerchief. "That's a lot for anyone to bear, especially a young boy."

"Frank Marrack is rather mature for his age, in some ways."

"But he is still a child in many other ways," she said slowly. "And if the other children know this?"

"That's just the thing, they don't know the details I am sure, but clearly they know something is different." I waved a hand. "Their little nasty minds have no doubt dreamed up any number of mean and juicy theories."

"Coming to your surgery twice a month. God! Children can be so cruel." She winced and shook her head. "How can I help? What can I do?"

Good question. How to defuse this is a positive way? "The Marrack boy wants to stop his treatments."

"Oh my God! No, no, he can't." She was shocked. "It would be?"

"Over time these cases do not do very well." I almost told her that degeneration and death would result over time, but from her expression she understood without me saying the words.

She took several deep breathes her bosoms heaving. "So, what we gonna do?"

"I wish to speak to the boy's classmates."

"How will that help?"

I smiled at her. "Oh I know a thing or two about these things."

Louisa stared at me. "I see."

I nodded grimly.

She got up slowly and stretched her arms and back. "I'd better get back to school."

I stood up and walked her to the door. "And I have patients."

"Well, this has been interesting."

I nodded. "I need your help, obviously."

"I'll do what I can." She turned to the door, then looked back and held out my mangled handkerchief. "You'll want this, I expect."

I took it from her. "Right."

She took a step towards me; faced me squarely. "You meant that? What you asked?"

"Uhm." What did she mean? "Oh, right. I asked you… a question."

She looked away. "We've been all through that, haven't we?

I winced. "So we did, yes."

But what she said next surprised me. "Mar-tin, if things were different… I might consider…" reached back, grabbed her ponytail; and pulled it over one shoulder; began to fiddle with it. "I might… I would think seriously about it. I am, actually. So… I… would say…"

My mobile rang so I scooped it from my pocket; flipped it open. "Ellingham," I said into it.

"Hello Martin!" Dr. Edith Montgomery's chirpy voice blasted into my ear. "I will be out your way tonight with the draft of my fertility presentation. Think we might put our heads together over it?" She chuckled. "I'll bring a bottle of wine as well. You won't drink it, but I shall!"

"Uhm, Edith I... I'm with someone." I said into the phone.

Louisa's face fell, turned dark, and without a word turned on her heel and stomped out of the house.