Chapter Thirteen
Running Out of Time
She tapped her fingers randomly against the railing as she sat on the bench waiting for…something. She was impatient but wasn't sure what it was she was eager to happen. What she did know was that the temperature couldn't possibly steep any higher without breaking her inner thermometer. She was parading around in her undergarments and a sheet securely wrapped around her whale-sized body. Roxton had cautiously placed a bowl of ice cubes beside her, but they had melted hours ago and the process of making more took longer than she was willing to wait. Instead, she had soaked her sheet in the bowl of melted ice and draped it over herself.
Sighing, she shifted as the weight of the eighth-month-old fetus pressed down on her bladder. For the past few weeks, the baby had been very active, but two days ago the child had grown still. Marguerite was beginning to panic even as Clarias, who visited once a week, explained to her that it wasn't rare for a baby to stop moving near the due date. It usually meant the baby had gotten into position for birth. Well, Marguerite had wondered if the baby's in position then why isn't he or she pushing to get out?
Veronica was at the table playing a game involving stones and leafs with Malone. Roxton had reluctantly gone out with Challenger earlier. The professor had used the rouse of wanting to gather herbs that only grew around the raptors' hunting grounds. In fact, Challenger had wanted to have a discussion with Roxton to make sure the younger man was indeed ready for the responsibility that was quickly approaching.
Marguerite heard Malone slap his stones on the table and Veronica yelp in glee. Marguerite smiled resignedly and mused over the past few months. Marguerite, ever growing larger, wasn't able to stay in her tight clothing for long. Veronica had taken it as her own mission to insure that Marguerite always had fitting clothes. She had sewn three separate maternity dresses, two pants, and two shirts for Marguerite to wear. The heiress would always be grateful for the kind act.
Marguerite hissed as a sharp pain blossomed in her stomach. A swift kick from the baby and Marguerite was gripping the railing. She had felt this before. Clarias had told her it was false contractions that would most likely happen a few more times until the real thing. Yet, nevertheless, every time it made Marguerite nervous.
Veronica glanced over from the game. "You ok, Marguerite?"
"Yeah, the baby's begun moving again. Took me by sur—," she clenched her teeth. "Ahrg, it thinks my stomach is a trampoline." She rubbed her stomach soothingly. "Settle down, little one." In response, the baby kicked again – harder. "Come now, give your mother a break."
"So, have you decided on a name yet?" Malone questioned.
"Yes. We've got both a girl's name and a boy's name picked out."
Malone smiled warmly, abandoning the game to join Marguerite on the bench. He was loosing anyway. "Well, what are they?"
"Well," she looked back and forth between her two friends. In the four years they had lived together in the tree house, they had truly become a family. "Lillian Veronica Roxton or William Malone George Roxton. All after people very dear to me."
"Oh, Marguerite." Veronica rubbed her arm. "That's so sweet; and we are so honored."
"Why Malone," Malone asked.
"Sorry, Ned, but your first name just wasn't working," Marguerite teased. Then she gasped, gripping her stomach. Another, more constructing pain followed. Wetness seeped from between her legs and her eyes widened in fear.
Malone leapt from the bench, uncertainty overriding his desire to take charge. Veronica, more confused by the birthing process than either of them, ran to get towels screaming, "Ned! Boil some water!"
Malone jerked, then hurriedly went to obey the order. "It's going to be ok, Marguerite," he called over his shoulder as he poured water from a bucket into the pot over the fireplace. "I heard that it takes time. Some women go in and have to wait hours before the baby is born. When the others get back, we'll send someone to get Clarias."
"Shut up, Ned! This baby isn't going to wait for Clarias!" She moaned and swung her feet up onto the bench. "God, I don't want to have my baby like this. Oh, please, little one, don't come out yet. Please wait for Challenger and Roxton." She screamed as a wave of rippling pain exploded. "Damn it to bloody hell why can't you be patient!"
"Its your baby, Marguerite," Veronica stated, placing the towels all around the lower section of her body. "You're not very patient either." She sighed, softening even more. "Don't worry, Marguerite. We'll take care of you." She glanced over at Ned. "Go get water from the spring. We'll use it to cool her down."
Tears leaked from Marguerite's eyes and she clasped one of Veronica's hands in her own. "Thank you, Veronica." She squeezed her friend's hand as she felt another contraction take over. When it subsided, she gazed pleadingly into the other woman's eyes. "I want you to make me a promise. If…if I don't make it…take care of my baby. I know Roxton will be a loving father and a good provider, but the baby will need a mother figure, especially if it is a girl."
"Don't say stuff like…"
"Promise me, Veronica," she said fiercely. "Promise me or I can't do this."
"I promise," Veronica whispered.
Marguerite screamed.
End Chapter Thirteen
Ok, hence the fact I've never had a baby, I'm not an expert on the birthing process. So, just go with the flow. Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews. I appreciate every one.