Hey readers, your reviews have prompted me to post this quick update. Grab a bowl of your favorite ice cream (Rocky Road here), and enjoy the chapter.
-Leesa
Ch 92 Surprises II
In a flash, Erik knelt beside me and supported me with his hand against my back.
"Gabrielle, darling, what is it?" he said, deeply concerned.
"A contraction and I don't think it's a fake one. Little cramps and a backache pestered me most of the night and this morning, but I didn't think much of them." I searched his face, sobering when I grasped what was happening. "Erik, I'm really in labor."
"Here, clasp your arms about my neck; I'll carry you to our bed."
"No," I groaned. "I think I can stand and make it myself. I'd rather you deal with her first. Erik, do not allow that girl to blab her stupid mouth about what she can't comprehend." I gestured toward the still petrified Mademoiselle Caruso.
He whipped his head around to stare at the girl. "Witch!" she shouted at me again.
"Be quiet, or you'll find yourself in a pot for stew," Erik threatened, and by the anger in his voice, I felt he meant to do her harm.
"Erik, you may not kill her."
"She doesn't know any better. A good spot of fear is to our advantage," he whispered.
"Oh . . ." I gritted my teeth against the pain. As suddenly as it began, the contraction went away. I guess its duration at thirty for forty seconds.
"Can we not subdue her momentarily and deal with her later?" Nadir asked.
The two men observed each other and nodded in a silent code of acknowledgement.
Nadir leaned down for instruction. "You know where I keep the chloroform; assist Gabrielle, then bring the bottle to me—I shall deal with her," Erik said.
"Are you able to stand?" Nadir asked me.
"Um-hmm, all I need do is make it to the bedroom. I doubt Erik's business will take long," I said, rising carefully, my eyes glued to the terrified maid.
Nadir put his arm around my waist and helped me stand. As we made to leave the music room, Erik approached Mademoiselle Caruso. She whimpered "no" over and over again, her voice heavy with fright. Erik spoke to her with the same soothing, low tones I'd heard him use with frightened animals.
"Do not fear me, Mademoiselle, you have no enemies here. I wish to help you. To make you understand that which you do not. Gabrielle will soon give birth and she needs you. Please, sit down and rest, Mademoiselle." That was the last thing I heard before my water broke, dribbling down my legs, into my long skirts and onto the expensive Persian runner in the hallway.
"Ick, I'm sorry, Nadir," I said pausing, uncertain as to what I ought to do. "Um, get me to the bedroom, I'll change, lie on the bed with my feet up and wait on Erik. I'll be fine until you take care of Mademoiselle Caruso."
"Madame, you're in labor! I cannot leave your side," he said.
"Sure you can. I may be in labor, but I am hours away from delivering. There is no need for you to sit and watch as if I were a burgeoning campfire."
By the time we'd reached the bedchamber, seven or eight minutes had passed since the contraction in the music room. I began to relax, when another one hit me hard, and I struggled to contain my reactions since I didn't want to alarm Nadir.
"Okay, I'll change and rest, you go help Erik," I said, commanding the Daroga of Mazanderan.
"You are certain, Gabrielle?"
"Yes, go." I smiled at Nadir and closed the bedroom door.
I stood in the cool, dark bedchamber and scanned the room, thinking about Madame Caruso and her snooping. Was she merely a curious girl, like I once was, or something more?
What's wrong with your logic, Gab? Who else would she be? I reasoned. Erik will rectify the situation and all will be back to normal . . . whatever that is, I reassured myself.
I sighed and put all thoughts of the little maid on hold. Other concerns demanded my attention, like getting out of these soggy clothes. I stripped, tossed everything in the hamper, cleansed myself with water from a large basin and slipped on a soft, loose cotton nightgown.
Near our bed, Erik had pre-arranged an array of instruments on a narrow table. Scissors, a scalpel, an enormous thermometer, and other goodies steeped in a beaker of alcohol. I cleaned my hands in the wash basin and took a peek beneath the sterile white covering to make sure everything else he needed was in check; There as a syringe, a stethoscope, a suction bulb for clearing the baby's air passages, woven silk for tying off the umbilical cord and anti-bacterial hand wash from my dwindling stash of twenty-first century items.
Folded and stacked next to the table was a mound of clean bedding, sterilized wash cloths and thick pads of cotton wrapped in silk.
I readied the bed for coming attractions, removing his expensive down duvet and spreading an old blanket and two sterile sheets on top of each other over it. At the foot of the bed, I placed three folded sheets and stacked up numerous pillows to lean against at the head as I intended to deliver sitting up rather than the popular nineteenth-century "flat on the back" method. I made sure the chamber pot was nearby, too.
All ready, except for Doctor Garrett or a midwife. Freakin' peachy, I thought, gingerly hoisting my gravid body onto the bed.
Never fear, Erik is near; wild horses couldn't keep him away.
While I waited, I thought about my father and how happy he would be to see his little girl married to a protective, intellectual artist, and giving him his first grandchild.
I imagined dad and Erik together; dad's genial logic matched against Erik's arrogant genius, discussing the possibilities of what others deemed impossible, my father doting on his grandchildren. Sparse tears bled down my cheek and kissed my smile.
A soft breeze trickled in through the open balcony doors and I heard birds chirping in the bushes outside. To me, the air smelled like rain. I'd noticed cumulus clouds on the horizon in the morning and wondered if a storm might accompany my labor.
Twenty minutes had passed since the discovery of Mademoiselle Caruso nosing about my business and I was getting antsy. On the verge of panic, I closed my eyes, relaxed my limbs and breathed deeply and slowly.
Serenity is not an easy task with your body clenching in on you every few minutes. When the door clicked open, I sprang up on my elbows. Erik entered with Nadir on his tail, a steaming stockpot of water in the Persian's brown hands.
"Over there, by that table, Nadir," Erik instructed.
"My love, how are you?" he asked, sweeping to my side and sitting next to me on the bed.
"In labor, but I'm okay—I think, having never done this before."
"How are your contractions?"
"Every eight minutes and forty-five seconds long at present. I may be stuck in this phase for hours. All we can do is monitor the progression, the old 'wait and see'," I said.
"Madame Roux will return before nightfall. She'll be of some assistance whether or not she approves of me being here." Erik said this with a smile. He knew Marie would not pass up her chance to help deliver our child.
"Funny old woman, bless her heart," I laughed. "Oh—another one." I glanced over at the bedside clock ticking down the seconds. "Five minutes now. Damn, these buggers are getting stronger."
Erik's face was lined with concern. "Tell me, Gabrielle, what must I do to make you more comfortable?" He pushed aside the loose hair from my damp brow.
"Tell me what you did with Mademoiselle Caruso?"
"Dismembered her and made a stew. She's in there." He nodded toward the steaming stockpot that Nadir had placed on the table next to the medical instruments.
"You didn't have enough time for stew, funny man. What'd ya do?" I grinned, took his hand in mine and placed it on my belly.
"Calmed her with my voice enough to administer a whiff of chloroform, and locked her in her bedroom. The pesky girl won't bother us for hours and Nadir will check on her from time to time. My plan is to purge her memory through hypnotic suggestion when she begins to emerge from the drug."
"Whew, what a trip that was, seeing her with my laptop, and having her call me a devil and a witch—didn't need that," I said.
"I'm certain she thinks we're all a bit suspect." Erik said, twisting his mouth into a grimace. Presently, she is not my main concern; you are, dearest. I see you've readied the room. Allow me to wash up and I'll return to your side." He kissed my lips, removed his jacket and waistcoat, and walked to the wash basin, which Nadir was filling with some of the hot water from the pot.
"Friend, I realize this is not your cup of tea; however, I may require your assistance in fetching certain items for me. Do wash up, I want no errant germs near my newborn."
I giggled at the sight of Erik playing doctor to Nadir's nurse.
The two men rolled up their shirtsleeves and scrubbed with the lye soap and steaming water, rinsing and drying with clean white towels.
"Now, my love," Erik said, joining me on the bed once more. "How may I serve you?"
"Stay, rub my lower back and tell me a story?" I asked, reaching out to touch the back of his hand. "The beauty of your voice will sooth me."
He nodded and motioned for me to lie on my side, facing away from him so he could massage my constricting muscles. "A light tale or gentle tune for the mother and child, then?"
With Nadir settled into a chair near the other side of the bed, Erik stretched out his long form next to me and began a story about a dog named Poi who wished desperately to become a butterfly . . .
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Two stories, one song and eight contractions later, I had the mother of all cramps. This one lasted for over a minute and at first, I thought I needed the chamber pot.
"Holy crap, that hurts," I cursed. Three minutes later, I had another one.
I consulted the clock. "This is not supposed to happen for a while," I told Erik.
I did not want to alarm him, but fear began folding its tentacles around me. My Chicago friend, the one who I'd assisted with her Lamaze delivery, didn't hit this part of labor for hours. Was something wrong? Maybe my little guy was just impatient?
"Gabrielle, are you all right, dear?" Erik's face had turned white and disquiet colored his jade eyes a deep gray. "Why, you're shaking," he observed.
"I'm actually cold. Hand me that afghan on the bedpost, please?" I asked.
Nadir leapt to his feet, retrieved the covering and handed it to Erik, who draped it over me shoulders.
"Better, darling?" he asked.
"Um, somewhat. I still feel as if I have to use the bathroom, but I—oof," I groaned, digging my nails into the palms of my hands from the pain. "Damn, that's intense!" "Two minutes, forty seconds." To my astonishment, Nadir had taken on the task of timing my contractions.
"I think I'm scared, Erik, but I shouldn't be, this is a normal, natural occurrence and nothing is wrong, right?" I said more to myself than to my husband.
"Gabrielle, you must calm down. Here, darling, sit. Now, let's engage those breathing techniques you showed me."
"Okay—yes," I agreed, knowing the breathing exercises would help. I was amazed at how quickly my normally focused brain became mush when faced with birthing a baby.
I inhaled and exhaled slow, rhythmic breaths, struggling to continue through the next contraction. I feared this baby was not in the mood to wait much longer.
Erik worked swiftly, opening every drape in the room for visibility, moved his instrument laden table and two of the new electric lamps near the end of the bed.
"Erik, it hurts so damn bad," I whimpered when the next contraction stole my breath.
"My poor darling" He rushed to my side and placed a cool cloth across my forehead."
"The pressure is intense and I want to push so badly. Oh my god, I think I'm wet down there," I blurted out. Bile rose in my throat. "Where's the bed pan? I think I'm gonna yarf." I clamped my hand over my mouth and breathed deeper.
"Do you need to do so?" he asked, reaching beneath the bed for the porcelain container.
"No, not really, just an urge. It should pass. I'd like a sip of water, though."
"Nadir, a cup of cool water, and soak several towels in the hot water, wring them out and bring them to me," Erik directed. Nadir carried them over, averting his gaze when Erik lifted my gown to lay the towels on my abdomen and check on additional matters.
"Erik, why is this happening so fast?" I searched his eyes for an answer, which I knew I wouldn't find. Erik was many things, but he wasn't a genie who could pull answers from the air.
"I can only speculate that he wants to make an early entrance." Erik smiled down at me, his affectionate regard for my well being evident in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. He kissed my forehead and then my belly softly, before checking on the happenings between my thighs.
"Continue your breathing, darling, you are doing a splendid job. Gabrielle, there is a bit of blood and fluid here, not much; it is purported to be normal, dear; do not worry a whit, I am here."
Erik's words and actions had a comforting effect on me. Even with the contractions coming fast and furious in their intensity, I took hold of myself and went with my body's natural flow.
- ( ) -
Oh how wicked of me to stop here (put away the Punjab). But I must, and I won't make you wait too long for part two . . . so please review.
-Leesa