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Wilson walked up to the front to his math teacher and showed his pass out of class to Dr. Zapata. His teacher nodded at him and he walked out. Wilson went down the hall and knocked on the counselor's door. Without waiting for a response, he walked right in.

"Hello Wilson." Dr. Zapata was warm and cordial.

"Hey."

"How are things going in your life?"

"Not bad. Not great, but not bad."

"Anything new?"

"Well, um, Becca and I had our first fight."

"About what?"

"She lied to me – right to my face, about something important."

"Which was…?"

"She's sick, kind of. She has preeclampsia. When I asked her a few days ago if something was wrong with her or the baby, she said no. She looked me in the eye and said that they were both fine."

"And how did that make you feel?" Wilson laughed. "What?"

"It's just that that's such a stereotypical psychologist question."

"Well, it's a good question." He asked it again. "How did that make you feel?"

"Angry. She shouldn't do that. And now I don't know if I can trust her anymore. We've only been married a few weeks and she's already keeping things from me."

"Did you tell her that?"

"I know of stopped talking to her but then I told her that, and she didn't really have anything to say."

"OK. That's a start."

"Yeah, I guess."

Dr. Zapata's tone turned more serious. "Is she OK?"

"She's on medication, but in general she's OK. Things might get better."

"Is she in any grave danger?"

"No. But then again, she could be lying to me and she could be about to explode or something and I wouldn't know."

"Would she lie about something that big?"

"She already did," he said with a laugh.

"True."

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After school that day, Wilson had swim practice. Nationals were only two months away, and it was beginning to get to "buckle down" time. The relay team probably needed the most work, but they didn't think that had a chance in placing in the top three, so no one was really bothering. Wilson's freestyle, however, had a shot. He had the fastest time in the country, but by only two seconds- if you go by the times from regional competitions.

Wilson knew that he needed to shave off about three or four seconds from his time if he wanted to clinch first place over that kid from South Carolina. That didn't sound like a lot, but to a swimmer that was years. Both the Coach and the Assistant Coach were working hard with him to accomplish that difficult goal, but with only limited success. Two months of practice and he only got two and a quarter seconds off.

Wilson swam hard in a practice run, but only got fifty-two seconds. Coach Walker and Assistant Coach Abrams rushed over to him.

"Are you focused?"

Wilson nodded. "Yes sir."

"Then I think it's a stamina issue. Finish swimming today, but from now on I want you to run three miles."

"For practice?"

"No, in addition to practice." Wilson's eyes bugged out of his head. "Oh, come on. That's nothing. You're in good shape; you should be able to do it."

If I wanted to run, I would have joined the track team, thought Wilson. "Do I have to run it all at once?"

"Yes. Stam-in-a," he sounded out the word. "You can't do that running quarter mile sprints."

That was true, but Wilson still didn't like it. "Fine."

"Unless you can swim forty-three seconds right now."

"No, that's impossible."

"Nothing's impossible. Maybe if you run you could achieve it."

"I doubt it," Wilson mumbled. He jumped out of the pool and reached for his towel flung over the railing of the bleachers. He dried off his back and then his hair, finally wrapping it around his waist. He seemed bothered.

Assistant Coach Abrams came over to him. "Are you frustrated, son?"

"Yeah. I don't think I can get my time down to forty-seven- where I need it to be. It's just too fast."

"Try the running. If that doesn't help, we'll try something else."

"Like what?' Wilson asked, eagerly looking for a way to get out of the running.

"I don't know," he laughed. "But don't worry about it. Those two and a quarter seconds will help. Now you've got four and a quarter seconds on the other guy."

"Unless he's working on his time, too."

"You're the best freestyle swimmer in the country. Don't worry about it."

"Thank you, Coach."

Wilson went back into the locker room and changed. He was taking the after school bus home. An hour later he arrived back home to his wife, to dinner, and to his homework.

Becca kissed him. "How was practice?"

"Fine, except I have to run three miles every day now to increase my stamina."

"That stinks."

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "How are you feeling? You OK?"

"I'm fine."

"School?"

"I've got an English paper to write on a book I haven't read yet."

"What book?"

"Animal Farm. We took the test last week but that was multiple choice so I think I passed. But this is going to kill me. Big time."

"I thought you did OK in English."

"I do if my teacher doesn't hate me. But Mrs. Preston is a wench. She loves to watch me squirm.

"I see." He kissed her "When do your semester grades come out?"

"Beginning of next week."

"Did you change your address, or are they going to mail it back to your house?"

She shook her head. "No one knows we're married. Not the school, not anyone."

Wilson wrapped his arms around her. "I'm hungry."

She laughed. "OK."

"I'm in the mood for… mac and cheese."

She stood on her tiptoes and looked at him. "Mac and cheese with a side of me?"

"Definitely."

X

That night Becca stopped Wilson before he climbed into bed. She put her hands on his hips and spun him around to face her. He didn't say anything, he just waited for her to say her piece. He knew that, evidently, something was up.

"In the interest of not lying to you," Becca started, "I thought I should tell you that I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. They're going to check my blood pressure and see how I'm doing, and then check on the baby." He went to open his mouth but she silenced him by putting her finger to his lips. She knew what he was going to ask. "No, I don't want you to come. Not yet anyway. I'll be just fine, and if I'm not I'll tell you first thing when I get home. OK?"

"OK." He kissed her passionately and then pulled away. "I really hope you're all right. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Neither do I," she said.

Wilson kissed her again. "Good."

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What do you think of the whole preeclampsia bit? Please review.

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