Word Count: 9,079 (Total: 79,800)
Rating: T for language and some light sexual situations (all clothing stays on, but those who are squeamish about age gaps beware)
Date Submitted: 3/2/18
Chapter 9 – The New One
Herc awakens late in the morning, mainly because he can't recall whether he's been to a restroom since he arrived at the hospital and his bladder is certainly making its statement on the matter. As he gets to his feet, feeling stiff all over from sleeping in so unnatural a position, Raleigh advises him to take the opportunity to get something to eat when he's done.
"And then I'd appreciate it if you could cover for me for half an hour."
"Sure."
Herc takes a peek at Jazmine. Raleigh has draped a towel over her head and eyes, but she's clearly awake because she's displaying a visible grimace. Her breathing is harder than it was earlier, too. He looks at Raleigh, but says nothing because the younger man has a staying hand raised and is shaking his head a little bit. So Herc holds his tongue and heads out.
Raleigh is waiting in the doorway when he gets back, speaking softly to a woman who's either a nurse or a midwife. She nods and walks away without noticing Herc, who stops to speak to his junior. Raleigh doesn't try to silence him this time, and is instead the one to start a conversation.
"I'm having the nurse get her some ice chips in a cup and in a bowl and to bring extra hand towels. She's a little nauseated and has retched a few times, but since she hasn't eaten for so long nothing's coming up. If something does, it'll be bile or any water she's consumed. She's going to be more irritable from now on because of that and as she starts to overheat and dehydrate. Whether or not you can convince her to eat the ice, but especially if you can't, dip a towel in the bowl, wring it out, and run it over her face and neck and arms. You don't have to clean her—you're just cooling her skin."
"She's awake then?"
"Yes, but don't worry about talking to her. Just keep her company; let her focus on the labor. If she needs something she'll ask, but if she doesn't and she's restless, go ahead and say something. You may have to say it a few times if she's expecting to hear French. See what she says, and just please be patient if she snaps at you."
Herc sends off the clucky hen that is Raleigh Becket. He may not have attended more than one birth before, but it's not like it's rocket science—he can take his junior's instructions and his own experience and go from there. That said, it's one thing to be around Jazmine while she's in labor; it'll be another if she starts bearing down.
He steps into the darkened room and finds Jazmine lying on the bed, but in an unnecessarily alert position with her head upraised like a startled kangaroo so she can stare. "Lie down, girl," he tells her firmly, and barely refrains from shaking his head at how uptight Americans are. "You're trying to give birth, remember."
Jazmine relaxes, a bit reluctantly but still obediently. She relaxes more as Herc settles into his chair again. He gives her a comforting pat on her folded arm. She closes her eyes.
When Raleigh returns, he's not happy. He comes in staring at his phone and sits down staring at his phone.
"What?" Jazmine asks.
"The prosecutor," is the response. "Tendo finally got back to me."
Jazmine growls.
Raleigh nods. "Multiple names. And, of course, makeup to hide the tattoos."
Jazmine says a few choice words.
"The prosecutor has multiple names?" Herc asks.
Raleigh nods again, still staring at his phone. "Jazmine and I figured that no one who didn't have an ulterior motive would suggest taking a woman's newborn away from her. Toddler, maybe, but a newborn? And for so lame a reason? He's a cultist."
Herc can't really help the way he bristles with aggression. It's mostly Chuck's drift phantom causing it, but it sets Herc on edge because when Chuck was as quiet about something as the drift phantom is being, it was never a good thing. Chuck was always easy to anger, all his life, but in ninety-eight percent of cases it was blustery anger—loud and scary to blow off steam, but essentially nonphysical other than the occasional shove meant to intimidate. Silence was a telling precursor to the sorts of physical acts that ended in prison, and on one occasion almost ended in a court martial.
So Herc does his best to soothe the drift phantom with promises that he'll stay right by Jazmine's side and only leave when he knows Raleigh isn't going anywhere. The drift phantom doesn't seem to be hugely impressed by the vows, but is tolerant and settles down. For the moment. "He's sending the info to the police, right?"
"No."
"Why?" It takes a second for Herc's brain to catch up with his mouth. "Right. No evidence, no interest."
Raleigh just nods.
Jazmine looks irritated, though she stays still and quiet.
Raleigh doesn't so much as glance at her, but says, "Well, then, give birth."
Jazmine turns her head toward him, then reaches out and slaps the side of his head. Rather hard, too.
Raleigh doesn't look up from his phone as he straightens. "That means nothing whatsoever—my decision to come here would've been the same."
Jazmine huffs and stretches out on the bed. She fidgets a little, clearly trying to find a comfortable position. Raleigh begins to hum lullabies to her again, and she closes her eyes.
Coincidental or not, Raleigh's suggestion to give birth coincides with the progression of Jazmine's labor. She becomes increasingly uncomfortable and tries out a variety of positions to alleviate whatever discomfort she's experiencing at any given moment. Raleigh continues to hum, apparently unconcerned. Herc wants to say something to her but remembers what his junior said about not bothering her. On top of that, he has to admit that she doesn't seem to be looking for comfort.
In fact, the only times Raleigh appears to pay any actual attention to his sister is when she's settled for more than two minutes. Then he sets his phone aside, reaches into the bowl of melting ice for the hand towel that's soaking, wrings it out, and runs it over Jazmine's exposed skin. Every time, she cringes a bit at the temperature, but it's a small thing that goes away quickly enough, and after that she appears to appreciate it. She pushes away any cups of water offered, however, which seems to upset Raleigh even though he doesn't argue.
Supper rolls around a little sooner than Herc expected, since he knocked his schedule off by sleeping until lunch, but he's not terribly hungry when it arrives. He declines Raleigh's offer to get something to eat, though he does take the opportunity to use the restroom. When he steps out, Raleigh waves goodbye and heads for the door with a promise to be back in about half an hour.
Herc chases after him, alarmed. "Just a second, mate!" he hisses. When Raleigh stops in the corridor, Herc says, "What if she has the baby while you're gone? What am I supposed to do, call the midwife?"
"That's not likely if her water doesn't hurry up and break. Like, right this second," is the calm response as Raleigh glances at his watch. "But if it does, your job is to do one of two things: either stand there and shut up and let her tell you whether to help or get help, or sound the alarm if she passes out or seems to be bleeding a lot. A little blood is normal, but if it's a huge blotch that's not okay."
Herc isn't reassured—nor is Chuck's drift phantom—but he lets the younger man go and goes back into the room. Like before, Jazmine is alert, head up. "I'm staying, don't worry," he tells her, and she returns to fidgeting.
Jazmine's breathing is definitely more labored than it was at lunch. Herc wrings out the hand towel, runs it gently over her face and arms, and fights the urge to vomit platitudes. Because for all her discomfort, she isn't really in any kind of emotional distress that would call for reassurance—she's just physically uncomfortable because she's essentially trying to force a prize watermelon through a passageway and its accompanying opening that rather lack adequate dimensions for the job. Besides, seeing as she's already given birth once, it's not as though she has no idea what she's gotten herself into.
Abruptly, Jazmine goes still.
"All right?" Herc asks, already on edge.
She looks at him, then down toward the foot of the bed. "My water broke."
Herc is completely panicked, though he pats himself on the back for not showing it. "If you need me to do something to help, say so."
She focuses on him again, then turns her attention to stretching out more on her side. "Not right now."
Given the way she behaves from that point—still repositioning, but with far more urgency—Herc decides she's definitely in full-blown, imminent-birth labor. He'd hold her hand, but she's moving too much and is often on all fours in her search for a comfortable position. Not that his intentions really matter anymore, because she seems to have largely forgotten about him, and does appear to be in a sort-of trance such as what Raleigh mentioned twenty-four hours ago. She frets almost silently, the sound coming through more from her breathing than her throat.
Herc is immensely relieved when Raleigh returns. Raleigh stops and studies his sister, clearly noticing how her behavior has changed. He then looks at Herc, who says, "She says her waters broke."
Raleigh nods calmly and settles in his chair. And that's it.
"Are we not calling the obstetrician?" Herc asks. "A midwife?"
Raleigh wrinkles his nose. "That wasn't the plan, no. Not unless there's a catastrophe."
"What if the baby comes?"
"I'm sure she can handle it."
Herc desperately wants to slap them both for not taking this seriously enough and potentially endangering his granddaughter. He doesn't in part because Chuck's drift phantom is oddly quiet in his head after all the fussing earlier. He can't tell if it's the drift phantom who's exhausted, himself, or both of them.
"Sir," Raleigh soothes, "keep in mind that the population of the human race has boomed for hundreds of thousands of years because women were able to successfully give birth—on multiple occasions, even—in unsanitary conditions and in a lot of cases without midwives or doctors to help. At best, modern medical advances reduce associated mortality rates and help with pain management. Beyond that, they don't making the process of giving birth any easier or faster. It all comes down to the individual women. Hospitals try to treat women like machines that can be held to a timetable and now everyone acts like labor and delivery are something that need expert supervision, but that couldn't be further from the truth."
Herc realizes that Chuck's drift phantom is so 'quiet' because he and it are perfectly synchronized in their alarm—it's been allowed too much influence. He deliberately pulls away from it and takes a moment to breathe and study Jazmine, whose discomfort is clear but nowhere near agony. She isn't dead or dying. Everything is fine. He needs to rein in his impatience and fear and just wait.
Herc really feels completely superfluous, and Chuck's drift phantom isn't offering any alternatives. On the other side of the bed, Raleigh is looking down at the mattress and fiddling absently with the edge of the thin hospital blanket, humming a song Herc doesn't know, content to wait.
The obstetrician and two midwives keep peeking in. Though Raleigh did inform them that Jazmine was in active labor, he didn't let them into the room to examine her. Herc isn't terribly comfortable with that, but there's no denying that the mere presences of visitors—any visitors, including normal people looking for some other woman who enter the room by mistake—causes Jazmine to stiffen in distress and increases the strength of her labor pains. It's better that it's just him and Raleigh.
Herc blinks, at something of a loss as to how everything worked out. It was all so sudden that the phrase "boom, baby" now has a new meaning in his personal vocabulary.
There's a moment of stillness as all three of them stare at the messy newborn in Jazmine's hands, then the baby whimpers and lets out a squall. Jazmine chokes on a relieved laugh, settles back on her heels, and lifts the baby to her chest. Raleigh grabs one of the special ultra-soft, hospital-issue baby blankets, and in no time at all the two of them get the baby half swaddled, both careful to not yank on the umbilical cord. Raleigh turns away to do other things with the baby supplies—and shoots an apparently warning look at the hospital staff trying to edge into the room, considering how they slink right back out—while Jazmine cleans the baby's face with a corner of the blanket and smiles a wonderful smile at her.
"Bienvenue, ma petite," she purrs at the infant.
She then turns that smile toward Herc and bends down a little so he can get a better look at his grandchild. "Thanks for staying. I know it was boring."
"Not boring," he assures her, leaning back as Raleigh deftly suctions the baby's nose and does other things normally done by nurses. The whole experience had been scary, exhilarating . . . anything but boring.
"I'm glad you were here," she says. "It means a lot."
"You say that as though I was doing it for your sake."
"Lolo," Raleigh interjects loudly.
Jazmine glares.
Raleigh isn't exactly impressed. "Do you want to keep it, then? I think it's going to come out anyway, but if it doesn't it'll cause an infection and you'll have to stay here longer."
She rolls her eyes and frees one hand to fiddle with her bra. It's a little hard for her to work because her other hand is holding the baby, who's nuzzling the bare skin of her chest that can be found, but finally she's able to bare one breast. Between the two of them, it isn't long before the baby's suckling contentedly.
After a minute or so, Herc notices the way Jazmine's head is drooping. Her eyes close. He wonders if he should say something, but after everything, he feels she's earned her rest.
Raleigh, however, seems to have a different perspective. "Mimi," he calls gently, drawing out the vowels. "Stay awake."
Jazmine comes back around. She takes a deep breath, yawns, looks at the room, then down at the baby. She smiles again. The two gaze at each other. Jazmine seems unable to stop smiling.
The baby doesn't nurse for very long, and once she's done Raleigh asks for her so that she can be properly cleaned up. Jazmine is a little reluctant but not terribly so, though she does watch what her brother is doing as he cuts the umbilical cord and takes the baby to a nearby table. Raleigh does nothing more than he said he would, however, and soon comes back with the baby.
"You should both get some sleep," Raleigh says. Jazmine nods and reaches out. Raleigh takes a step back. "No, the other bed. That one needs to be cleaned."
Jazmine makes a face, but slides to the floor. Once upright, she pauses, then makes for the restroom.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Raleigh says, smug. He grins when she responds with an upraised finger that's visible over her shoulder. When the door is closed, he turns to Herc. "Want?"
Herc feels anew the twenty-some-year-old fear that he might drop a baby, but tempers it with the reminder that he only dropped Chuck once—not very far into a bed—and never when Chuck had been a newborn. Chuck's drift phantom shares that for all his fear of it, Chuck had never come close to dropping Jason. So between the two of them, everything should be fine. Enthusiasm begins to peek through. "Yeah, mate, hand the ankle-biter this way." It's not for Herc's sake, though—it's for Chuck's.
The drift phantom is grabby-handed, so Herc turns over control. Chuck's parenting instincts shine through, proving that despite his aggression with peers and adults, he was very soft and squishy around at least his own children. The baby is calm and quiet, though she still squints in the emergency lighting; Herc can imagine how bright even a darkened room would seem when the mother's body blocks so much light during pregnancy.
Though he was giving them warning looks earlier, Raleigh seems willing to let the maternity staff into the room now to clean up. The obstetrician on duty slips in and makes a beeline for Herc. Herc doesn't miss the frown Raleigh throws at her back—she hadn't been invited, just the nurses—but no further protest is made. Herc gets that he's being allowed control of who sees the baby, and with the knowledge of the prosecutor being a cultist suddenly everyone else seems like a threat as well, to both Herc and Chuck's drift phantom. So Herc isn't terribly excited by the approach of the obstetrician, and her bedside manner does nothing to help.
"Give me the baby."
Herc bristles and glares. "Go fuck yourself."
The obstetrician is clearly done being patient. "You natural birth people . . ." She reaches for the baby.
Herc successfully fights the urge to strike her in the solar plexus to make her back up, though he wonders if it wouldn't have been considered self-defense, given that she has no permission to do what she's trying to do.
Jazmine appears, wet-haired from a shower, her face twisted with fury, and grabs the woman's wrist. "Get away from them."
The obstetrician stares her down. "Let go before I have you charged with battery."
Jazmine stares right back. "You're damned lucky that battery is all it is, woman. If you come back into this room or otherwise lay one finger on my baby, I will break each joint of each finger of each of your hands, and I will do it in such a way that you will never be able to so much as wipe your own ass again, let alone practice medicine. Do you understand?"
"Let go."
Jazmine twists her arm inward to a more normal position, which simultaneously twists the obstetrician's almost upside-down, then advances on the woman, forcing her to back up in turn. "Get out of my room, cunt. Get out and stay out, because if you come back in it will be the last thing you ever do alive." Jazmine shoves her out into the hall, hard enough that the obstetrician lets out a small cry of pain and grabs at her elbow.
Raleigh sidles past Jazmine as she reenters the room. She looks at the wary nurses who are still cleaning. "Finish and get out."
Herc watches the obstetrician argue with Raleigh, who's having none of it. She finally storms out of sight, frustrated. Raleigh comes back into the room, mild-faced, and yawns as though nothing's happened.
Jazmine returns to Herc to check on the baby's condition, then climbs into the clean bed and settles down to nap. Raleigh shows up then, with a sigh and towel in hand, and proceeds to wrap his sister's hair in the towel and squeeze the excess water from it. Jazmine must feel it, given the way her head rocks as her hair is tugged, but she pays it no mind.
When he's done, Raleigh hands the towel to a nurse who's leaving with other towels. He waits until all the nurses are done and gone, then closes the door and goes back to the bed. To Herc, he says, "Now it's time to grab a nap before we get kicked out or worse. The chair over there reclines if you feel like getting some sleep. You can put the baby on the bed with Jazmine at any time—she won't roll onto her." With that, he pushes his sister a little more toward the edge of the bed and then climbs up with her. "I'd offer to let you sleep on the bed with her, but I figure you aren't as used to it as I am."
Herc isn't used to it at all, actually, even given the memories acquired through the drift; that's how little time Chuck had spent with Jazmine. He admires the baby for a few more minutes, but she's too tired to be much of a companion, so he tucks her against Jazmine and goes to the chair in the corner. As he settles, he watches Jazmine give the baby a quick visual examination and then curl her arm around the infant to hold her close and keep her safe. The sight pleases Chuck's drift phantom, and seeing Jazmine lying back-to-back with her brother is a reassurance that she and the baby will both be well protected while Herc sleeps.
The maternity staff may have returned over the following ten hours, but Herc doesn't remember it; he gets a great, unbroken sleep even though the comfort of the chair leaves something to be desired. When he surveys the room, he finds that Jazmine has rolled so that her back is to the outside and she's sort-of spooning with Raleigh—who doesn't appear to have moved much in that time—but with enough space between her front and his back that the baby must be there for safety. So someone or something must have spooked her at some point. Herc plays with his phone, occasionally stretching out kinks in his arms and legs as he waits for his juniors to wake up. It's day out, so there's really no reason to sleep again until they get home.
It takes Raleigh another two hours to come around. He's groggy and exhausted still, and it's no real wonder given how he so patiently doted on and put up with his sister while she was in a less than accommodating mood. He slides slowly out of bed and stumbles into the restroom, where he stays for about ten minutes. When he comes back out he takes a moment to peek at the baby and confirm that she's not in distress, then moves a chair closer to Herc and slumps into it.
"Morning, sir."
"Morning," Herc answers. "Sleep well?"
"Well, yes. Long enough, no." He yawns.
"We'll get home and go back to bed."
"That sounds like a great idea."
Herc gets to his feet. "Well, I better go find out how the cost of this is going to be handled—I doubt she has a Medicare card."
Something that sounds much like, "Achoo," comes from the bed. Jazmine's arm flops in the direction of her clothes, which are folded on a shelf.
"What?"
"She says she does," Raleigh translates. He gets up and goes to Jazmine's clothes. After fishing around for a minute, he comes up with a wallet. He gives it to Herc. "You know what to look for."
Herc isn't exactly comfortable picking through someone else's wallet—except his brother's and Chuck's—but he goes through it anyway and, sure enough, finds a Medicare card. He takes it to one of the emergency lights and examines it. It looks legitimate. He turns toward the bed. "Where did you get this?"
Jazmine mumbles. It doesn't sound like English. Fortunately, it doesn't have to be. Raleigh says, "She says Chuck gave it to her. All he ever told her was that it was real and no one would ever question it; he had her use it once to prove it, and after that she didn't ask questions about it."
Herc looks again at the card. Then he realizes he recognizes the number—it's the same number on his card, and Chuck's. Him and Chuck having the same number is one thing, because they were family and as a courtesy the Australian government had waived any requirements for Chuck to "leave" that family once he reached majority just so it was one less thing he had to worry about. But to get Jazmine into the family . . .
Herc is flummoxed. "How the bloody hell . . .?"
Chuck's drift phantom explains with ease that winks, smiles, pictures, autographs, and a white lie had gone a long way toward getting the card once he found out that Jazmine was pregnant. And since it's a real card obtained through unofficial and essentially fraudulent means, to date it's been in the best interests of all participating parties to keep the exchange quiet.
Well, given the circumstances Herc isn't going to argue about it. He returns the wallet to Raleigh and heads for the door, the Medicare card in hand. The Medicare people he speaks to on the next floor are pleased to help him; they run the card and even though at least one of them must be aware of Jazmine being an illegal alien, they seem satisfied that the card is legitimate. He's not sure he should say anything, but in the end curiosity wins out.
"We do have to report it," he's told, "and we'll be confiscating it now, but the fact is that we can confirm that Miss Lapierre has paid some taxes and by that measure is entitled to care, so we'll honour it for this occasion." The man then adds, "I doubt it'll do any harm to tell you that the card is one that was reissued to your son—our records indicate that a few years ago he claimed he lost his."
So Chuck gave Jazmine his new card to ensure that she'd be taken care of, and kept the old one for himself in case it was ever deactivated or something—it'd mean proving his identity, but he'd still be able to get treated.
Herc thanks everyone and returns to Jazmine's room, where Raleigh has managed to nudge his sister out of bed and get her at least half dressed. After pulling her skirt on, however, she apparently gave up and crawled back into bed with the baby. Raleigh is patiently, gently routing her from bed again.
"If you don't get up and get dressed," he warns her, "they'll increase the pressure about checking the baby. It'll sour your milk."
Jazmine is finally convinced to get up. She finishes getting dressed and collects the baby, and at last they're on their way, with Raleigh picking out a few hospital staff to thank or apologize to. Everyone seems as irritated to see Jazmine go as to deal with her in the building, and the obstetrician is particularly bold; she scolds Jazmine about pretty much everything, from not allowing herself to be examined during her labor to leaving the hospital without allowing herself to be examined.
Jazmine isn't having it. She stops to confront the woman directly, annoyed. "Examinations. Examinations before, examinations during, examinations after. Why? What the fuck do you think you're supposed to be looking for? Why the hell should I want or need you digging around in my vagina while I'm already in pain? You think far too highly of yourself and your damned college degree, you self-righteous bitch. The only reason I even came to this concentrated source of diseases is because my brother insisted. I've already had one child—I was relatively certain I didn't need your magic hands, or whatever you think is so special about you. And if I had needed you, I would've damn well asked for you. There is no implicit giving up of my individual right to privacy just because I set foot into this building."
"The baby—"
"—would have been under immense stress because I would have been under immense stress first," Jazmine snaps. "Everything would have been infinitely worse simply because I don't like you. I don't like you, I don't like your nurses, I don't like your midwives. I am a stubborn, jittery cunt who's already had my son ripped away from me by government toadies, and you think I should trust YOU? Sodomize yourself."
With that, Jazmine sets off again. Raleigh meanders after her, mild-faced. Herc watches them go for a bit, then apologizes to the obstetrician even though Chuck's drift phantom is grinning like a Cheshire cat.
The woman isn't impressed, which Herc can understand, but makes the mistake of being a little too careless with her following words: "Your son should have chosen a bit more carefully, Mister Hansen."
The insult is fourfold, targeting Jazmine in general, Chuck's ability to make decisions, and Herc and his wife for not being good teachers. And while Herc isn't certain he was a good teacher and Chuck had made some questionable decisions, Herc is still happy to give him full credit for not letting his fame go to his dick. Chuck had dated many women, but those dates had mostly ended up stopping at 'dinner date' because he'd noticed something about each of them that had given him pause; in retrospect, the ones he'd dated for extended periods had been toned-down versions of Jazmine, so he'd known what he wanted for years—even if not consciously—and been careful in his search for her.
That's why Herc looks the woman in the eyes and says, "I'm not sure about that. She seems to have pinned you well enough," before turning to make his exit.
They detour on their way home to pick up Jason, who's upset about having been left "alone" for so long. Tendo is happy to list all of the terrible things he's tried to teach the toddler. Jazmine's appreciation for his effort is suitably sarcastic, and she makes a point of letting Mako hold the baby first.
Unrepentant, Tendo tells Herc, "You look like you've been run over by a dump truck, Marshal."
"Like usual, then," is Herc's response. Being knocked completely off his usual schedule by the arrival of his granddaughter is only a piece of the puzzle; the same Hansen ruggedness that had made many women admire him in his youth—and gotten him plenty of beer while still underage, when he tried to get it—is now beginning to make him look older than he really is. And true as it might be that Jazmine had admitted that she found him sexually attractive, there's every possibility that she subconsciously recognized bits of Chuck in him. So it's not necessarily that he's still a hot commodity, and he's realistic about that. It doesn't impede his ability to function.
When Tendo gets his hands on the baby, he cradles her gently and tells her about all the horrible things he's going to teach her to use against her mother, uncle, and grandfather.
"Interesting that you're not afraid to die," Jazmine notes. "That will make it easier for you once I've done to you what you deserve."
Jazmine spends much of the remainder of the trip home focused entirely on Jason. It's clear why when they get home; she grabs the baby and vanishes into the house, leaving Jason to Raleigh and Herc. Inside the house, Herc finds her already passed out on the bed in her borrowed room, the baby tucked close for incubation.
"We should all take a nap while we can," Raleigh murmurs as he appears at the far end of the hall, Jason draped limply over his shoulder. The toddler is yawning.
"Sounds good," Herc says. "You want my bed? You were up longer than I was."
"Thanks, but I'll stay out here with Jason. I think we'll be farther from the baby that way, so there won't be as much sleep interruption. I'll make supper later."
Not if Herc gets there first. Jazmine and Raleigh have both done a hell of a lot more than he has, so he has every intention of at least doing some of the cooking.
Herc gets to the kitchen before Raleigh, all right, but not before Jazmine. She feeds herself snacks of fresh fruits and vegetables while she cooks, and the plates she puts out are only for Herc, Raleigh, and Jason.
"You should've let me do it," Herc scolds.
"Don't you worry," she tells him, "you'll have plenty of opportunities to cook as I fall apart in the coming weeks. Relish this while you can."
Jazmine leaves them to eat and retreats back to her bedroom.
The court grants four weeks of "parental leave" for Jazmine and Herc. A court spokesperson assures Herc that the four weeks isn't a mandate; that is, that Jazmine isn't required to return to court after the four weeks are up.
"Actually," he adds, "neither you nor Miss Lapierre are required to be in attendance at this point—it's just a right you're granted. If you feel comfortable allowing your counsel to speak for you, you're both encouraged to stay at home with the baby for as long as you might like—neither of you will be held in contempt or anything of that nature when your case next comes up for address."
Herc trusts the man's good intentions, but wonders if his 'facts' are an inaccurate interpretation. "Can I get that in writing?"
"I'm sure that won't be a problem. I'll get started on that right away and have it passed to your counsel."
"Appreciated." Herc doesn't know how comfortable Jazmine is leaving everything to Evelyn, but if nothing else Herc isn't comfortable not hearing with his own ears what's being said to whom. Once the four weeks are over, he's going back to court. Raleigh or Mako will surely be willing to help Jazmine for a few hours those days.
As the weeks pass, the only person Jazmine bothers to pay attention to is Jason; she largely ignores Raleigh and Herc, which makes sense given that they're both adults and can tell just by looking at her that she's becoming increasingly exhausted and isn't ignoring them because she hates them, though her ever-shortening temper might have implied as much to a more sensitive soul.
"Where is your breast pump?" Raleigh finally asks.
"My what?" Jazmine replies sleepily.
"Your breast pump. Herc and I could help with feeding if you'd do that."
Jazmine makes a face as she thinks. Finally, she says, "Don't have one."
"Did you rent it?"
"Never bothered."
Raleigh cocks his head. "Chuck didn't help?"
Jazmine's face twists with annoyance. "He was barely around, fuckface. And when he was around he was so tired it didn't even occur to him to ask to feed Jason until well after he'd been weaned to a bottle. Of formula."
"I see. I'll get you a pump, then."
Jazmine answers with an upraised middle finger.
Renting equipment, though, requires paperwork, and it's after hours on a Friday. No one will be back to process until Monday, so going in any sooner would be an essentially wasted trip unless other errands were run. For the first time, Raleigh seems a little distressed.
"Well," he explains when Herc asks, "I know Jason turned out fine, but I don't know how she handled him on her own. I'd feel better if I had that to work with. Our presences change things, too, and contaminate the situation in a few ways. I just don't want her to run herself down and get sick with something we bring home when in the past she had the benefit of isolation from the public—she'd pass it to the baby and it'd be a nightmare then. If we could just feed the baby so she could get some unbroken sleep, that'd help a lot."
Finally, Herc has one up on his junior's unusual education. "In that case, mate, I got this."
Anymore, Jazmine doesn't instantly wake up when the baby begins to cry.
"That's actually a good thing," Herc explains to Raleigh, who's very attentive. He's already put one half of Jason's baby monitor in Jazmine's bedroom and is now setting the other half on the coffee table. "It means she's not likely to wake up and have a go at us."
A few hours later, the baby begins to fuss. Herc gets to his feet, and without being prompted Raleigh does the same, with a quick promise to Jason that he'll be right back. The two men go to Jazmine's bedroom and distract the baby with tickles to keep her quiet.
"I did this with my wife," Herc explains quietly as he places his hand on Jazmine's arm. He doesn't know why he did it until nothing happens and Chuck's drift phantom gives him the go-ahead to continue. Satisfied that she won't attack—or something else unpleasant that only Chuck's drift phantom is aware might occur—he gently peels the bedcovers back. They discover she's sleeping topless, about which Herc says, "That helps."
It's not difficult to demonstrate how to roll her onto her side and keep her there while the baby is positioned to feed. Raleigh understands immediately. "This is essentially how it's done when she's awake."
"Exactly," Herc says. "Of course, the baby will take care of herself once you get them hooked together. And when she needs more, you separate them and roll Jazmine to her other side and do it all again. My wife woke up the first few times I did this, though she was groggy as hell and didn't remember it later, but eventually she slept right through it." He shrugs. "It's probably not taking advantage of bonding opportunity the way it could, but it'll keep the baby's stomach full and give Jazmine time to sleep."
Raleigh is completely on board. "We probably won't need that pump, if this keeps working."
"So what's her name, anyway?" Raleigh asks when Jazmine staggers out to supper one evening, the baby in her arms as though she's planning to stay out of the bedroom. Which Herc knows—and Raleigh can probably guess by looking—is a lie. She's been caught exercising in her room, but she rarely comes out except to use the toilet.
Jazmine pours herself a glass of milk and sips at it. "Charlotte."
Raleigh cocks his head and frowns slightly, then rolls his eyes. "Oh. God."
"What's wrong with it?" Herc wonders. It might be an 'old' and certainly an uncommon name anymore, but it's still classy.
Jazmine is having none of her brother's criticism. She glares violently. "If you don't like it, asshole, then go have your own fucking brats and name them whatever pleases you." She chugs the milk and sets the empty glass in the sink. With a punctuating snort of, "Dick," she storms out of the kitchen and turns as though she's going back to her room.
Once Jazmine's gone, Herc asks Raleigh again, "What's wrong with Charlotte?"
He shrugs. "Nothing. I was just teasing her." He adds, "At first I thought it had to do with our uncle, but she hates him. 'Charlotte' is the feminine French diminutive of Charles."
Herc tilts his head. "Wh— Oh."
Yeah. Because even before his son was born Herc and his wife hadn't called the kid 'Charles.' Ever. Not even as a whipping name. It's on his birth and death certificates and various other official documents, but those are the only places it's used. As for their son as a person, he was 'Charlie' for a while, until Charlie decided on the dawn of his sixth birthday that he wanted to be called 'Chip,' apparently as a memorial to Herc's then-recently-deceased father, whom he had idolized and who had called him that. After Scissure, 'Chip' was deemed a forbidden nickname for some reason and 'Chuck' was born. That's it. 'Charles' always makes Herc think of his wife's father, who died when she was a teenager and who Herc never met. But the man's impact on his daughter was great, and was how her son's name came to be Charles Donovan, because Herc's father was still alive at the time; otherwise, the fight over whose father's name would get top billing would have been the start of the next world war.
Jazmine likes the arrangement of Chuck's name, Chuck's drift phantom points out.
"Good for the both of you," Herc responds, with a touch of sarcasm. Clearly, it's a point of pride.
Raleigh doesn't know exactly what was 'said,' but from what was just discussed and what he knows of his sister he can surely guess. He snorts and goes back to eating.
"Good morning!" Raleigh chirps as they enter Jazmine's bedroom with her breakfast. "Rise and shine!"
Jazmine is almost entirely hidden beneath the bedcovers. She grunts.
They can't get her to care enough to sit up and eat, so Raleigh turns to Charlotte. The baby's awake but quiet, a condition her uncle immediately attempts to remedy. Herc can't see what he does, though he doesn't lay a finger on her, but in just a few seconds Charlotte is crying.
Jazmine is furious as she sits up, wide awake. "Go fuck yourself, you inconsiderate dickbag!"
Raleigh places the plate of food in her lap, the glass on the end table by the head of the bed, and then picks up Charlotte and begins to soothe her. "Feed your face."
Jazmine complies, with such violence that Herc's surprised she doesn't stab the inside of her mouth with the fork. "What the hell is this about, anyway?"
Raleigh grins. "It's your wedding day."
Of course, there have to be witnesses to the event. But there are more than Herc expected—a total of six, consisting of Evelyn, Darryl, Derrek, Tendo, Raleigh, and Mako. Eight, counting Jason and Charlotte.
It doesn't take very long at all, given that it's a nondenominational government ceremony. The celebrant is professional, neither hinting at nor outright saying what she thinks about their situation. She seems to have reasoned out at least some of their rationale, though, because she displays some embarrassment at the end after she says, "You may kiss your spouse."
But since Herc considered the possibility of that weeks back, he's not perturbed. He bends in and kisses Jazmine on the cheek, a gesture she returns to each of his. He must look a little surprised, because Raleigh wiggles the fingers of one hand where he's standing behind his sister, and when he sees he has Herc's attention he mouths the words, "It's a French thing."
With that, Herc's remarried; for the first time in over a decade he's technically no longer a widower. It's a somewhat strange sensation. He does have a sense of being chained for the second round, something that was absent when he married his wife—his first wife—but doesn't identify the chain as an unpleasant effect of marriage. Instead, he has more the sense that the chain is the burden of reality. By marrying Chuck's intended, he's giving up on any remote possibility that his son might be alive.
Jazmine plants her face in his chest and squeezes his ribs. Herc returns the embrace gently, fully aware of what she's going through. They don't really want each other—each has someone else they would have preferred to be with. But circumstances had thrust them together, and they have to make the best of it.
The celebrant congratulates them—with a very muted level of enthusiasm—and wishes them happiness and a long union. Herc doesn't argue. It's just part of her script, and he considers it preferable anyway that she's keeping it official so that no one can question the validity of the marriage.
Evelyn gently claps her hands once and says, "Since I need to speak with Jazmine about her case and I'm afraid it can't wait, there are refreshments at my office. I invite everyone to join us."
Tendo bows out to return to his family. Derrek hems and haws about work, but the power of his stomach wins out once again over his will—not nearly for the last time, either, Herc's sure—and he decides to have "a little something" before he goes back. Everyone piles into the vehicles, whether or not it was the one they arrived in, and convoy to Evelyn's office in Ryde.
On the way, Chuck's drift phantom nurses conflicted joy and sadness. Herc attempts to comfort it, but his heart isn't in it. It's just a bittersweet thing for all of them.
Aya is bustling around finishing the setup as they enter the office. She graciously invites everyone to help themselves to what Herc would call more than refreshments—it's a catered lunch.
Raleigh and Jazmine both zero in on what looks like pulled pork. Raleigh tries a mouthful while his sister watches, says, "Oh my God," with his mouth still full, and both begin piling their plates with it. Jason has apparently never experienced pulled pork, so his mother and uncle remedy that promptly. As with the tenderloin months back, Jason proves to be an enthusiastic carnivore.
Herc takes his turn getting food, and when he turns away from the table he finds Derrek standing there, face stuffed. Derrek has also chosen to make meat a major part of his meal, although that makes sense to Herc since the maintenance of his physique requires lots of protein. He does have vegetables and fruits, but the majority is meat. It forms a small, barren mountain ringed with lush colors.
Herc surveys the full contents of his friend's plate. "Does your wife know you're spoiling your supper?"
Derrek rolls his eyes. "Well, you could tell her and ruin the surprise."
Unlike Darryl, who by comparison is very cerebral, Derrek has always been a jock. Herc has never known him to not be an active participant in some sport or another, or several at a time. Which is why it's pretty much impossible to 'ruin the surprise' of a spoiled supper, because he'll eat his usual quantity since his metabolism is at peak operation. Darryl watches his weight almost as obsessively as a woman, given how sedentary his profession is, while Derrek flexes his muscles in mirrors and decides if they're of adequate size and shape; Herc's never seen him so much as glance at a set of scales or mention weight unless it's for a sport that divides players by such.
Herc leaves his friend to it and settles in one of the chairs provided as a courtesy for clients waiting to see Evelyn, then looks around to see how everyone's doing.
Raleigh and Jazmine have set Jason in another chair across the room. Jazmine is mostly focused on keeping the baby quiet and entertained, but both she and her brother are letting Jason choose things from their plates, which they then bite down to toddler-size and give to him. Derrek and Mako are an unlikely pair; Herc can't tell exactly what they're talking about, but it seems to have to do with law enforcement. Darryl and Evelyn are practically at the other end of the room, picking through their plates as they talk about something Herc can't quite make out. Aya is at her desk, presumably busy doing work things and pretending none of them are there.
Herc looks at his plate and eats slowly, allowing his mind to drift to nowhere on the background noise of the others' muted conversations. So he's quite startled when Darryl almost flops down into the chair beside his and sighs pointedly. "Aye?" he asks, with a much softer sigh of his own. Darryl has middle-child syndrome, so in private settings he has a bad habit of waiting to be noticed when he had a personal problem he needs help with. There's no point in assuming he'll speak first.
"How did you know when you were in love? How did you know when to propose?"
Herc chokes a little on a cherry tomato and looks at his friend, then over to where Evelyn is sitting on the floor with Charlotte in her lap, then at his friend again. It's not that Darryl has ever sworn off women, but he's said many times that legal work can lead to weird hours and that he doesn't want to have to deal with a woman who doesn't understand that. Logically, then, a woman also in the legal profession would be Darryl's ideal mate, but that isn't something that's ever crossed Herc's mind.
He finally gathers himself enough to say, "Well, I s'pose I knew because even though I was nervous as hell and always hyperaware, I was also completely comfortable when I was with her. Sort of like being terrified that I'd do something to embarrass myself in front of her and not wanting to because I always wanted to be at my best when I was around her, but at the same time knowing without a doubt that I'd never embarrass myself to the point that she'd look somewhere else. And I had the same feeling about her: there came a time when it occurred to me that nothing she might do that could be considered 'looking bad' would actually matter to me. If she got sick and threw up on my trainers, I'd just hold her hair back for her.
"And she did once," he adds. "Well, not on my trainers, but almost—if I hadn't known the look, she might have managed. But she'd had one too many at a mate's house before our date—"
"She drank before your date?"
"Her mate had just had a bad breakup—he'd been cheating with something like seven other women."
Darryl, a sensitive and empathetic soul, wrinkles his nose. "What a tosser."
"As you can imagine, the drinking was commiserative, but she overdid it because she hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast," Herc explains. "I ended up cancelling the reservations we'd had, streamed online a movie she'd wanted to see, and we stayed in and drank water and ate eggs for supper. I kept a bin close just in case." He shrugs. "Being with her was worth it.
"As for proposing . . . That's a little more between you two. But I can say there's no point in doing it if you don't know that you love her. That's how Sasha ended up being the one to propose to Derrek first—not because he wanted his ego stroked, but because she knew she loved him before he knew he loved her. He accepted but he was honest with her about how he felt, then he got cold feet and broke it off, then he figured out he loved her after all and proposed to her. That's why he worships her, because he found out that she loved him so much that after he ended it she didn't date anyone else. She hoped he'd come back."
Darryl nods. "That was almost two years, wasn't it?"
"It was." Herc looks at him. "You have to talk to her, Darro. Most women don't actually get starry-eyed if you start talking about marriage; they appreciate knowing where the two of you stand because they don't want to waste their time any more than you want to waste yours. And if she's one of the few who does get starry-eyed, and then gets offended when you're straight with her, that's probably a good sign she's not mature enough for an adult relationship yet."
"I don't think that'll be a problem."
"Just throwing it out there."
There's quiet between them, then Darryl says, "Thanks, mate."
"Instead of thanking me, I'd rather you promise you won't hesitate," Herc tells him. "My wife is dead, but I had nearly twelve years with her. But Chuck and Jazmine weren't even able to marry—they had two or three years. Kaiju were responsible both of those times, but people have always been separated by a car crash, an exploding gas line, terrorism, health condition . . . anything. It could be you or her. I'm not saying you have to rush in with no plan, but don't try to make it perfect. If you botch it a little and she really loves you, she'll forgive you. Otherwise, if you try to wait for the right time, you'll miss it."
Darryl nods once. "Swear on my life. No hesitation."
Herc isn't quite sure he believes his perfectionist friend, but there's really nothing more to say on the topic, so he lets it slide.
Derrek sits in the chair on Herc's other side. "You two are just the life of the party."
"It's not a party, you ignorant cunt," Herc tells him, annoyed.
"Well, someone doesn't know what a figure of speech is." Derrek looks past Herc at Darryl. "Doth mine ears deceive me? You cracked on to someone? Congratulations, mate! Jesus, that only took the better part of three decades. You should probably try a little harder to catch up."
Darryl and Herc both groan. Derrek is extremely nosy and probably qualifies as a 'speculative womanizer'; he doesn't touch or date or have sex with, but he does comment. A lot. And often in front of the woman in question. Herc and Darryl—who hasn't done much dating but has two sisters—have never been able to make him understand that objectifying women isn't generally flattering to them except in private situations, and instead upsets and offends them. Also any man they might be with who happens to be physically present.
Herc attempts to deflect. "He just has his eye on her, and it made him think. You know how he is."
Fortunately, Derrek doesn't bother to look too deeply into it because he's checking his watch. "Shit, I have to get back to work." He gets to his feet and swats Darryl in the side of the head. "Good luck, you hopeless son of bitch. And yes, I'll be best man at your wedding."
They watch him go, and then Herc says, "Darro, it's up to you and I won't be offended, but I feel I should let you know that there's a reason why his only job at my wedding was to make sure the catering went smoothly and why I had you do everything else." He looks from the closed door to his friend.
Darryl nods. "Believe it or not, Herc, I was just thinking that myself."
To Be Continued in . . . Chapter 10 – The Resolution of the Conflict
Herc still isn't reassured, and he isn't entirely sure why. He knows he isn't obligated to let Chuck's drift phantom do anything with Jazmine. Raleigh had suggested he do so, but Chuck's drift phantom is just that—a phantom. It isn't a piece of Chuck's mind or heart or soul trapped inside Herc, but instead a mere conglomeration of Chuck's memories that when certain conditions are met can be triggered to react. Letting Chuck's drift phantom kiss Jazmine would be more to ease Herc's guilt than anything, which Raleigh had said as well.
He asks, "What are you expecting?"
She blinks from where she's now on her knees in bed, preparing to settle down with her sleeping children. "I'm expecting a nice nap."
"No," he snaps, though he's careful to keep his voice down. "I mean from me."
She squints slightly at him, her jaw intentionally misaligned to convey her confusion. "I don't understand. Are we still talking about how uncomfortable you are around me?"
"Yes."
Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:
"Bienvenue, ma petite,"
French. "Welcome, my love" (literally, "Welcome, my little").
—
"Lolo,"
French slang for "milk" (properly, lait). I might be misusing it here, as there's nothing that directly connects the term to breastmilk; however, Google translate does offer "boob" as an alternate English translation, which implies there's at least a colloquial connection.
—
The Medicare people he speaks to on the next floor are pleased to help him
Everything to do with the Australian healthcare system is doubtless riddled with inaccuracies. Please ignore them. Thank you.
—
It's not difficult to demonstrate how to roll her onto her side and keep her there while the baby is positioned to feed.
This is approximately the story told by a man (years ago) who was arguing against the assertion that a father has no real role in childcare after his baby's birth. He told the story in response to a claim of either men's general uselessness when it came to raising children or men's lack of need for paternity leave; honestly, it's been so long I don't remember which it was. In any case, he proved that a father willing to be involved in his child's care will find a way to do so and needs to be supported.
—
The celebrant is professional,
Again, this part most assuredly has inaccuracies, mainly to help with mood. Please ignore these as well. Thank you.
—
If you find this fic to be somewhat fine, please take the time to drop me a line!
~RN (LS)