Chapter 7: A Timely Start

The clock on the mantle began the first of twelve chimes. On que, giant flowers of fire sprouted in the night sky, silently blooming before the windows rattled with a delayed boom...boom...bo-boom. Nadir and Erika watched out the parlor window, the multicolored light flashing over their faces. The pair sat together on the couch in front of the window, Erika leaning back against Nadir's chest with a teacup in her hands. On the coffee table behind them were the leftovers of their dinner.

"Happy New Year," Nadir said out of tradition.

Erika held up her cup, equally unenthused. "Cheers." She drank down the last of the tea, shaking her head at the horrible taste myrtle and chamomile created together.

She could tolerate the taste if the drink gave her what she wanted: relief. Indigestion bothered her after every meal, and her lower spine had a constant, pulling, ache.

"What I wouldn't give for a glass of wine right now," Erika grumbled.

"Actually, some wine sounds lovely." Nadir sat Erika upright and headed for the kitchen.

She raised her eyebrows. "Truly?"

"For me," Nadir added without looking back.

"Ass."

The windowpanes shuddered as the fireworks continued. Erika craned her neck to look up at them. Somewhere, several streets away, the Palais Garnier was having its New Year's Gala. The festivities were surely in full swing now that midnight had struck. Erika had never attended the party, but she had observed it the first years she was living there. Even so, she grieved the fact she wasn't in attendance. That overcrowded, noisy gala was a more appealing place than the apartment.

Snow had started falling in October, often leaving the weather too foul to take a day trip. Erika had been a guest in Nadir's home for three months. She had grown sick of seeing the same wallpaper, the same rooms, and the same furniture day after day. It was rare the weather was calm enough to allow them outside for some fresh air. Erika's porcelain mask – which she'd brought from home specifically for outdoor activities – had been in the bedside drawer for weeks.

Nadir entered with a glass of chardonnay minutes later. He stood back and watched – amused – as Erika tried to stand herself up from the couch. The coffee table was too far from her reach to brace on, and the low armrests couldn't give her the leverage needed to hoist herself up. She was a turtle on its backside.

"Do you need help?" he asked, failing to hide his laugh.

Erika sat back with a sigh, knowing how ridiculous she looked. "Maybe."

It wasn't the first time she'd gotten stuck in her seat. She didn't like to admit it, but it was true that without Nadir she'd be prisoner to the furniture. The Persian man took her by the arms and stood her up like an unbalanced doll.

Nadir had to smirk at the scornful look she gave to her oversized shirt as she adjusted it. He knew she hated its inelegant appearance. Yet, large men's clothing was the only wardrobe that would suit her now. Well, the only clothing Erika wouldn't pitch a fit over wearing. She had recoiled at the mention of buying a maternity dress. A deviant through-and-though.

"I need the washroom," Erika said, nudging past Nadir. "After that I'm going to bed."

She was glad Nadir was distracted by the fireworks as she walked past – or at least, that he was avoiding his eyes on purpose. Her gait had become rather…clumsy…in the past weeks, and it beyond humiliated her. The off-balance stance of carrying a child was about as undignified a stance for the Mirage to be in. At least only one human being had to see her this way...and he was always wise enough never to tease her over it.

Nadir waited until Erika had her back to him. Then, he turned and watched her hurry to the washroom with a slow shake of his head. Erika was now hardly recognizable, her skeletal frame swollen and heavy under the looser-fitting clothes. The difference was like winter and spring. Her body seemed to be holding up stronger than he first expected; but, then again, there was still another four weeks of this for her. Four weeks, at a minimum.

Sipping his drink, Nadir entered the bedroom they now shared. He arranged several pillows into a nest on the bedside closest to the door, where she slept. He tried to ease her discomfort in any way he could, for he knew she was miserable. Lately, it had become impossible for Erika to sleep unless she arranged herself in a very specific position. Yet, even then, there were mornings she would complain about sleepless nights brought on by his child kicking her organs into mince.

Nadir closed the bedroom curtains and stopped to run his hand along the beautiful wicker swing cradle he'd purchased. He'd already lined it with cushions and blankets – and a silver bell rattle sat atop it all, ready to be the child's first toy. He smiled. Another month sometimes felt too long to wait.

Erika trudged into the room and immediately began nestling herself into bed, too tired to change into a nightshirt. She rubbed her hand into the small of her back, trying to massage out the tight strain the muscles were under.

"Your back is still bothering you?" Nadir asked. Erika groaned an affirmative reply.

He tossed back the last little gulp of alcohol and climbed into bed beside her. Rookheya had terrible back pain towards the end of her time, and he'd found a massage that greatly helped. The case was the same with Erika now. Every time she complained about pain, the same technique would ease her tensions. He curled up close to Erika under the blankets and pressed his thumbs hard into the splays of her hips, rubbing small circles into her skin.

Erika hummed a contented note in her throat, hugging a pillow vertically to her torso. Her eyes drifted shut as bit-by-bit the pain melted away. "Thank you."

The room was dark and the fireworks had ceased the first time Erika woke that night. She heard Nadir's soft rhythm of snores beside her. The desperate need to urinate was what called her awake, so she began the nightly ritual of visiting the washroom in the dark.

She heaved up from the creaking bedframe, groggy and walking through the apartment by touch and memory alone. She yawned, realizing she could take a full breath for the first time in months. That was nice. With her needs taken care of, she snuggled under the three quilts they had on the bed and fell back asleep.

Erika woke the second time to the familiar stabbing pain in her back. She reached around and tried to massage it away, but no working of the muscles would make it disappear. Nadir was still asleep beside her, and she didn't need to wake him just to stop a backache. After lying awake for a few minutes, Erika adjusted to the dull ache in her spine and dozed. She never fully fell asleep again. The dull ache she could tune out ramped up to a tight pinch.

Opening her eyes, Erika could see a soft blue glow from the crack of the curtains. Pre-dawn hours. Erika gave up on sleep for the time being, once again getting up for the washroom.

After lighting the gas lamp in the kitchen to prepare breakfast, she tried stretching her back to relieve the pinching. She felt the ache spring to the front of her hips, and that's where it rooted in deep. Erika took pause – she recognized this pain. The pinch in her back had become a menstrual cramp.

The alarm rang at eight thirty that morning. Nadir was surprised to find himself alone in bed, but clinking dishes told him where his companion was.

A dozen hard boiled eggs were sitting in a bowl on the dining table. Erika was peeling the shell from one, dropping the white specks onto a plate.

Nadir kissed the top of her head as he shuffled past in his house slippers. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she rushed the greeting. "You were involved with your wife's labor, weren't you?"

The chair Nadir pulled out screeched. "I, uhm...yes, I was until the women of the family arrived." He chuckled and shrugged, seating himself at the table. "Women are the experts on such things."

"Some are," Erika said, adding pepper to the egg white.

They hadn't discussed what would be done when the time came. Nadir had tried to bring it up, but – until now – Erika had been too reluctant to think of it. She was certain of one thing, however: no matter what the process was like, she wouldn't be seeking outside assistance. No one else would know the child came from her, not even a stranger.

Erika drew in a long, silent breath when her abdomen cramped. A glance at the hanging clock told her it was the second time that hour. "Well, if you can't be of any help, I suggest you take a day trip."

"To where?" Nadir asked, cracking apart the shell of his own breakfast egg. "On New Year's Day, nearly every shop is closed." It took a few seconds for something, somewhere, in his brain to connect. His hands went still. "Help with what?"

"There isn't much doubt –" the relief was evident in her voice as the short contraction ended "—that your child will be arriving early."

Nadir reacted like he'd been shot. "It's too early. You shouldn't be feeling any pains yet."

"Well, I hate to spoil your morning, but I am. I have been." Erika sat the peeled egg on the plate, unsure why she bothered to season it when she wasn't hungry. "I thought you said women are the experts."

"This is serious, Erika," Nadir reached across the table and touched her hand. "It shouldn't be time just yet."

"That doesn't matter, my labor has already started." She didn't need his approval of what she knew. She could feel for herself that she was carrying much lower than the day before. "Now, you have two options. You can stay here, or you can leave and collect your child tomorrow morning."

Nadir rested his folded hands against his mouth, eyes closing. He was silent, trying to absorb every memory he had of Reza's birth to arm himself. It was dreadful, how badly those memories were stained with sadness now. "How bad are the pains?" he asked, eyes springing open with a new sense of clarity.

"I don't expect you to understand," Erika said, nudging away her untouched plate, "but they surpass the worst menstrual cramps I've experienced."

"Alright...well, let's get you back into bed. Relaxation should stop the pains."

Erika allowed him to take her arm and stand her. Gravity aggravated her back and put all that horrible weight back on her hips. She was suddenly tense, like a violin string wound too tightly. A contraction sank around her waist like a vice. The muscles in her abdomen tightened into stone.

Nadir noticed the too-tight hold she had on the chair, the slight way she doubled over. He recognized the posture before the small groan left her mouth. Gently, he placed his hands on her hips and squeezed; a method that had eased Rookheya's pain once.

"Third time this hour," Erika grumbled. She winced as the contraction peaked and a needle-sharp pain stabbed her from within. "I don't think these will be stopping."

Panic was seeping into Nadir's skin. The situation seemed more real by the minute; but he didn't move and didn't speak until he felt her body unwind. "I'm phoning a doctor."

He turned to leave, but Erika seized the collar of his nightshirt and jerked him back. A few of the seams popped.

"No, you are not," she said. "As far as anyone outside these walls will know, you'll be raising a foundling. As far as this child will know, flowers will be growing from their mother's ashes."

"Are you mad?!"

"You should know by now." Erika kept her hand on the wall as she continued down the hallway. "Would you rather bring in someone who has never seen the likes of me? Someone who would tell his co-eds about the living dead woman he helped deliver? The papers would love to sell such a story, wouldn't they?"

Nadir's mouth was dry.

"As I said before," Erika continued, "you're free to leave if you wish."

Nadir caught up to her just as she opened the bedroom door. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, carefully hugging her to his chest. He was sure she could hear his frantic heart beating against his ribs.

"A valiant attempt to be rid of me," he said, running his hands down her back, "but this is where I'll stay. Purely to spite you."

Erika grinned and embraced him in return. "For once, I'm glad you're spiteful."