VIII. Six Months

"Victoria, shouldn't you see the doctor?"

Victor asked the question quietly, without quite looking at her. The two of them were in the parlor, putting together a pressed-flower book. Victoria's birthday had been a few days before, and Victor had given her the specially made flowerbook as a present. It went well with the flower-press that she'd given him for Christmas. A pile of dried flowers--violets, pansies, roses, and a host of others--lay in neat piles on the low table in front of them as they sat side by side on the sofa.

Victoria was perched nearly on the edge, her stomach sort of hanging out into space. Her abdomen was beginning to look more and more like an independent structure every day. If she sat all the way back on a chair now, it was very difficult for her to get back up again. They'd learned that just last week, when Victor had had to rescue her from one of the armchairs in the study. At the time they'd laughed and made a joke or two about installing pulley systems for when Victor wasn't available, but Victor had secretly begun to get a little anxious. It had occurred to him that there were only about three months left until the baby arrived--July was already half over.

So far, everything had been quite fine. Victoria was feeling well, and seemed to be enjoying herself. Mrs. Reed was still acting as her official advisor. While Victor appreciated that pregnancy was more than likely primarily women's business (more than once Victor had felt that he was simply along for the ride), he'd still started to think about the doctor. Didn't doctors usually attend births? What went on at a birth, anyway? Victoria was in on something that Victor wasn't--he had the feeling that she'd been briefed on what to expect much more thoroughly than he had. However, she hadn't volunteered any information. She'd probably answer honestly if Victor asked, but...how to bring it up?

So Victor had chosen this quiet moment in the parlor to pose his question. He'd meant to lead into it a bit more, perhaps start off by asking how Victoria was feeling, then getting into a discussion of what, precisely, was going to occur in three months' time. The best laid plans, however...

Victor finally looked up to see Victoria staring at him, looking rather surprised. She had a bunch of dried violets in one hand. They went rather well with the white dress she was wearing. Victoria had officially given up her corsets and tight dresses a few weeks ago, on Mrs. Reed's suggestion and over her mother's strenuous objections. Now she wore dresses that gave her more room, and looked an awful lot like her nightgowns. They really weren't the kind of dresses that Victoria would show herself in public wearing. Not that she was leaving the house all that much lately.

"I already have, remember?" Victoria replied, looking at him closely. "I went to make sure about whether I was expecting or not. I'm all right, why do I need the doctor right now?"

"Well..." Victor began, unsure as to how to continue. To help himself think, Victor began busily rearranging some of the piles of flowers. Finally, his eyes still on the table, he said, "It's simply that we...well, haven't really discussed anything about...you know. When the baby arrives."

Victoria gave a slow nod. "What did you want to discuss?" she asked, sounding curious. Victor shrugged.

"I'm really not sure," he said. Victoria laughed quietly, making Victor smile as he stared at the flowers on the table.

"All right, then," Victoria said, putting the flowers down and folding her hands in what little lap she had left. "Would you like to hear my plans?"

"Of course."

"Well," Victoria began, speaking in a low, quietly excited sort of tone, "I've decided that I'd like to have Mrs. Reed present when...you know. The baby arrives." She paused, and then added quietly, "This may sound...disloyal, but I'd really rather not have Mother there. It's simply...you know."

Victor nodded encouragingly. He did know. It made sense that she'd want Mrs. Reed there, considering how close the two of them had become. She was almost like a surrogate Hildegarde. Still, Victor couldn't help but wonder how good an idea it was to have a housekeeper instead of a doctor assisting at such an important event. He wasn't surprised that Victoria didn't want her mother there. It would be uncomfortable and stressful for all involved. Besides, Maudeline would probably say no, anyway.

"And I do not want to hire a nanny or anything like that," Victoria continued. "I'd like to have our child know us...to know me. Of course, Mrs. Reed will help until I've found my feet again."

"And me?" Victor asked. Again, Victoria looked surprised.

"Of course. I mean--you're interested in helping with the baby?" she asked, sounding cautiously delighted.

"Interested? Of course I'm interested," Victor replied. "I'd like to help as much as I can." From the way Victoria was looking at him, he again had that feeling that he was signing himself up for something about which he hadn't a clue. Well, goodness. When they'd visited Hildegarde last month, Victor felt that he'd proven himself to be rather good with children. Perhaps not Victoria's caliber, but still.

"That's really quite lovely of you, Victor," Victoria said, tilting her head and smiling. There was a short silence.

"What else are you planning?" Victor asked.

"Well..." Victoria said. She gestured for him to come closer. He leaned toward her, and she said in a whisper, "I'd rather not hire a wet nurse either, despite what my mother says."

"That's all right with me...but why are you whispering?" Victor whispered back. Victoria looked at the floor for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

"You haven't any idea what a wet nurse is, do you?" she asked affectionately, still in a whisper. Victor scratched the back of his neck.

"Er...not as such, no," he finally replied. Victoria moved away from him again and said at normal volume,

"That's all right, I'll tell you later." She glanced at the parlor door as she said it, as though afraid someone might burst in on them. Ignoring Victor's bewildered expression, she said, "That's really as far as I've gotten. Well, and the nursery will be the room on the other side of mine--but you knew that already. I suppose we'll just have to wait and see." Victoria reached out and patted his hand. "Everything will be fine. Please don't worry."

So saying, Victoria turned back to her violets. But Victor couldn't help but worry. He wanted Victoria, and the baby, to be safe. Much to Victor's discomfort, his mother had happily shared some birth-related horror stories the last time he'd gone for tea. The only good thing about that particular afternoon was that Victoria had, mercifully, stayed at home. After hearing his mother talk, Victor had decided it was probably a good idea to have a doctor. Just in case. He decided to try again.

"But Victoria..." Victor began, trailing off almost as soon as he started.

"Yes?"

"I just think...well, shouldn't you have the doctor there when the baby is born?" There, he'd said it. Though he hadn't been expecting Victoria's scandalized look.

"Victor, he's a man," she said with a gasp. Victor furrowed his eyebrows.

"Well, yes, I know, but what does that have to do with...oh. Oh!" Victor said, getting it. Victoria nodded slowly.

"Be that as it may," Victor fumbled, "I think it will be safer to have the doctor there. I'm only concerned about you, and the baby. I mean...what if something goes wrong?" It pained Victor to say that, but if his mother was to be believed, things went wrong quite often when children were born. Victoria could...die. Quickly he shoved that thought from his mind. He didn't even want to think about it.

"Nothing is going to go wrong," Victoria said, quiet but firm. "I'll be quite all right, I promise. I'm simply...not comfortable with Dr. Van Ekel."

"But he came over last year when you had bronchitis," Victor pointed out. Victoria refused to meet his eyes, concentrating getting the bunch of dried violets to lie flat on the open page of the scrapbook.

"Yes, and I was uncomfortable enough having him stare into my mouth," she replied in a whisper. "I'll be all right, Victor--Mrs. Reed knows what she's about. Do you know how many children she and Mr. Reed have?"

Not quite understanding what that had to do with anything, Victor took the bait. "I don't," he replied. "How many?"

"Twelve," Victoria said. "And she was a midwife from time to time. Shall we just ignore that kind of experience?"

"Twelve?" Victor repeated. He was silent for a moment, taking that bit of information in. How in the world was that even possible? Where did they put all of those children? And he'd thought eight was some sort of record.

"Incredible," Victor said at length, staring into the middle distance.

A slightly tense silence settled over them. Victor felt that he and Victoria were very lucky in that they rarely disagreed. On those few occasions when they did differ, it was usually over something trivial. But this situation was hardly a trivial one. Actually, it was the least trivial thing Victor could think of. Taking a breath, he decided to have one more stab at it.

"Victoria, be reasonable--he's a doctor."

"Yes, and he's also a man."

"But he's a doctor."

"I know. But he's a man."

Another impasse. Victoria seemed incredibly adamant about not having the doctor present. Victor, even though he thought he understood where Victoria was coming from, thought she was being absolutely ridiculous. She was by nature a very modest and proper person, but for heaven's sake--this was her health they were talking about. Not just hers, but their child's. Victor wasn't exactly crazy about the idea of having a male doctor in there with Victoria either, but the man was a professional. It was part of his job. Besides, Mrs. Reed would be there, and Victor would be nearby.

Now, how to word that in a less offensive manner? Sighing, Victor picked up a rose, and then put it back down again. Then he picked it back up. With another sigh, this one sounding a bit more like a snort, he turned to Victoria.

"Victoria, he's a doctor!" he said, slightly exasperated. He sat there staring at her, the dried rose in his hand. She stared back at him. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

"I feel as though we've already had this part of the conversation," Victoria finally said, deadpan. Victor sputtered for a moment, and then gave up, shaking his head.

Waving his hand, he said, "Fine, Victoria. If you're that certain, I won't say anything more about it. Do as you like." If she didn't want Dr. Van Ekel present, then Victor wouldn't force her to have him there. Still, in the back of his mind, Victor reserved the right to go get the doctor in the event of an emergency. Victoria wouldn't object to that, he was sure.

Something in his tone must have gotten to her, because suddenly Victor felt Victoria's hand on his arm. He turned to find her looking at him, a set sort of expression on her face.

"If you'd really like me to have the doctor there, I'll do it," Victoria said. It obviously took a lot of effort for her to say it.

"Thank you," Victor said, wisely leaving it at that.

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It was a week later, and Victor was showing the doctor out the front door. Dr. Van Ekel, a rather stout man who had probably been a doctor considerably longer than Victor and Victoria had been alive, had arrived about an hour ago. Victor had hung about near the closed parlor door while the doctor spoke with Victoria. He'd made an attempt to eavesdrop, but they had been speaking in low voices. He hadn't been able to hear a thing. Oh, well. Victoria would fill him in.

As soon as the doctor was in his carriage and heading down the drive, Victor shut the door and went to join Victoria in the parlor. He found her sitting in one of the armchairs, her elbow propped up on the armrest and her hand over her face.

"Is something wrong?" Victor asked, immediately alarmed. "What did the doctor say?" Taking a seat on the ottoman next to Victoria's chair, he took her free hand in his. The doctor hadn't looked particularly alarmed when he'd left. In fact, he'd congratulated Victor and said he'd see him soon. Why didn't I stay in here with them? Victor asked himself, waiting for Victoria to answer him.

"Oh, the things he asked me!" Victoria finally said, her voice muffled by her hand. "I was so embarrassed, I thought I'd die."

"But...you're all right, aren't you?" Victor asked. "Er, well, besides being embarrassed enough to die?" He didn't feel he should make her elaborate--he did have an imagination, after all.

"Yes, yes, I'm perfectly all right. I could have told you that, however." Sighing, Victoria dropped her hand from her face. "And we're to call on him when...when I have the baby. He'll come over. I do hope you're happy."

"Goodness, does it really bother you that much?" Victor asked, stroking her hand. Victoria paused before she answered.

"Well, no, I suppose not," she said finally. "I suppose it will be safer...that's why I'm willing to have him there."

"What did he say, exactly?" Victor asked, curiosity finally getting the best of him.

"One point he was adamant about was that I have a boy," Victoria replied. It was easy to see that she was making a great effort not to roll her eyes. "The good doctor doesn't believe in having girls first, you see."

Victor furrowed his eyebrows. "But how...I mean, there's no way to help it one way or the other, is there?" he asked slowly.

Victoria shook her head. "Of course not. But he seems to think I can will myself to have a son."

"It really couldn't matter less to me," Victor said. "What else did he say?"

"You really want to know?"

"Of course."

"He said...he said I have nothing much to worry about. I'm as sturdy as a French pony."

Victor blinked. Biting his lip to keep from laughing he repeated, "Sturdy as--"

"A French pony, yes."

"That's a...good thing. I suppose. But it makes you sound...well..."

"Yes, go on."

"Well, a bit like a...brood mare," Victor said.

"You know what?" Victoria replied, cocking an eyebrow. "I think that's precisely the way the doctor is thinking of me."