I finally arrive home late in the afternoon after a long day of preparation and notifications. I have to hand it to the first sergeants, they took the order to prepare their companies with a level of professionalism that surprised even me. There were no complaints, no objections…just a desire to accomplish the mission.
I walk through the kitchen door and take a seat at the table. The light outside is just starting to fade into evening. Clint hears me and walks in from the living room. Without any words, he takes a seat next to me and reaches for my hand. As he squeezes my palm, I gaze up to his face. I can tell from the look in his eyes that he already knows the news I must tell him.
"What did you tell Aurora?" I finally manage to get out.
"Nothing yet," he says shaking his head. "I didn't want to upset her without any hard information."
"Good, good," I mutter softly.
"Should I go and get her?" he asks. I pause for a second as I consider just laying everything out now, but somehow it just doesn't seem right here.
"When was the last time the three of us went to the park together?"
"The park?" Clint asks confused.
"Yeah," I say with a smile. "I can't remember when we all went as a family."
"Neither can I now that you mention it," he replies.
"Let's go then."
"Now?" Clint says even more confused. "I was about to start dinner."
"Forget dinner," I say even more resolutely. "I want to be outside with you guys."
"Ok…" he says trailing off. We both go upstairs and grab Aurora. The evenings are now nice and warm, so we don't bother putting her in a jacket. Instead, she just grabs Ears the Rabbit and we're off down the street.
There's a small playground a few houses down from us where the local children can always be found running and playing, but when we arrive, the whole place is deserted. There's no sound at all except for Aurora's voice and the breeze blowing through the landscaped trees on the sidewalk.
I challenge Aurora to race across the sand to the jungle gym. She charges forward, laughing the whole way. When we reach the finish line, she's beaten me by a hair as I pretend to be out of breath.
"You gotta keep up, Mommy!" she says grinning from ear to ear.
"You, Little Girl, are getting fast!" I say as she reaches her arms out and I hoist her up to the top of the monkey bars. We play for a few minutes as Clint comes over to join us. As Aurora becomes distracted by trying to hang upside down from the highest bar, I leave her to Clint's supervision and walk over to an empty bench on the other side of the sand.
I sit down and stare at my husband and daughter just enjoying being safe, innocent, and free from danger. That's when I realize why I wanted to come here. I wanted the most important memory of today to be a happy one, rather than having to tell the people I love most in this world that I'd be going away….possibly forever.
"No," I think as I push that possibility away from my thoughts. It will be a short, little separation and I'll be home before they even know I'm gone.
I see Aurora's face glitter in the setting sun, and suddenly another memory pops into my head: the moment I realized that I would become a mother…
My eyes slowly open and I stare up at the bare wooden ceiling of The Three Foxes. The sun is just starting to rise outside the window of the room that Clint and I now share. We've been back from what we called our "honeymoon" for over two weeks, but since the arrival of the UDP fleet, we've been working very late at Tower Control planning the invasion of Francia.
Clint lies next to me under the blankets, still snoring a little bit. At first, I'm not sure why I've awoke so early, but then it hits me: a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's everything I can do to sneak out of the bed without waking Clint, dash to the bathroom, and heave my guts into the toilet instead of all over the floor. After about a minute of pure hell, I push myself back to my feet and walk over to the washbasin. I dip my hands into the cool water and then rinse the taste of vomit out of my mouth. Finally, I examine myself in the mirror.
I'm wearing nothing but my underwear as I check my body for any signs of illness. Everything seems normal now.
"I don't remember eating anything strange or out of the ordinary last night…" Suddenly, a fit of nervousness grips me. I start to play with the metal dog tags hanging on the chain around my neck. "What week is it?" I say praying my instinct is wrong. I start counting backwards in my head. "When was my last?…Oh Sh..."
I run out of the bathroom and quickly throw on some clothes without waking Clint. Quietly, I sneak out of room and down the stairs. My first thought was to go straight to Doc, but I realized that could have major consequences. He would have to talk to General Snow, and more likely than not, I'd be spending the invasion of the TEC sitting in Tower Control while my husband and the rest of the Mockingjays suffered through a terrible fight without their best shooter. No matter what, I cannot let that happen. I need to talk to someone who understands what I'm going through. Unfortunately, none of the other Mockingjays, even General Snow, could ever hope to be of help.
Mrs. Marbury, the innkeeper, stands behind the empty bar with a rag wiping down the glasses. Without a sound, I step up to the bar and take a seat across from her. For some reason, I'm too embarrassed to say a word. This is not something an infantryman needs to be dealing with on the eve of combat.
"Don't you think it's a little early…even for you, Dearie?" she says with her warm and comforting smile. I'm so happy to have her right now. I need a woman's help.
"I don't think I'm going to be doing that for awhile…" I manage to whisper without looking up at her.
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"I….think….I could possibly be…" I can't bring myself to say, "pregnant." All I do is point down to my stomach. Without another word, Mrs. Marbury throws down her rag, steps out from behind the bar, and gently grabs my arm.
"C'mon," she whispers into my ear kindly. "I know exactly who you need to talk to."
She leads me out the door into the cobblestone streets of London. We walk together for a few minutes till we reach a small house with a wooden sign over the door. There is nothing written on it, just a painted picture of a mortar and pestle.
Mrs. Marbury bangs on the door.
"Babs!" she shouts so loudly that I look around the street to see if anyone else is staring at me. No one does. Unfortunately, I'm guessing the sight of an older woman leading a younger woman to this place in the early morning hours is not that uncommon.
Suddenly, the wooden door flies open. Standing there is a woman so old and grizzled that I think she could have been alive when Britannia first started fighting the TEC two centuries ago.
"Do you know what bloody time, it is?" the old woman screeches to Mrs. Marbury as I just stand there almost shaking.
"You know there's no off-hours in your line of work, Babs," Mrs. Marbury says shaking her head.
"Aye, aye," she says before turning to me. "What's the problem with this one?" I can't bring myself to say anything, but Mrs. Marbury continues to speak for me.
"She needs to know for sure."
"Alright," Babs says stepping aside. "C'mon on in and have seat." The three of us walk inside. I'm amazed as I look at the walls. They're lined with wooden shelves from floor to ceiling containing glass jars with every kind of herb, flower, and strange animal part known to man. There's a long wooden table with a few chairs next to it. Mrs. Marbury leads me over and sets me down like a scared child before sitting right next to me.
Babs immediately gets to work. She collects five or six of the jars and mixes a measured amount of their contents into a bowl. Finally, she grabs a small wooden stick and smears a dallop of the green paste from the bowl onto the end of it.
"Water Closet's in there," she says pointing to a door and handing me the stick.
"What am I supposed to do with it?" I ask confused.
"What do you think you're supposed to do with it?" Babs says. "Put it between your legs and pee."
"WHAT?" I shout nearly knocking my chair over. "Is there any other way to tell?" I ask as I feel my face turn bright red.
"Aye," Babs says still holding the stick in front of me. "But that would involve me getting up close and personal with your lady parts and I don't think either of us knows each other well enough for that to happen."
I want to run out the door and pretend that none of this ever happened, but Mrs. Marbury just grabs my arm again to calm me down. Defeated, I take the stick from Babs and walk to the bathroom. Safely inside, I somehow manage the task.
I return to Babs, holding the stick out as far away from me as I can, but she immediately reaches out and grabs it from me. Apparently, after years and years, she's no longer bothered by touching a stranger's urine. Babs pulls out a pocket watch and stares at it while she shakes the stick in the air. Finally, after a few minutes, the paste turns from a dark green to a light pink.
"Congratulations," Babs says unceremoniously throwing the stick in a refuse bin.
"This can't be happening right now," I say almost in tears as I bury my head in my hands.
"Are you sure about that?" Babs says interrupting my thoughts.
"What?" I ask surprised.
"When was the last time you bled?" she says through her wrinkled face.
"What!" I ask even more surprised.
"When was the last time you bled?" she repeats. I look over to Mrs. Marbury who just nods encouragingly. I think back in my mind.
"About five weeks I think…"
"Then it's not too late." Babs suddenly grabs another ten jars off the shelf. She mixes their contents into a clay mug, then fills it to the brim with something that appears to be wine. She pushes the fowl-smelling concoction towards me. "Drink that, and by tomorrow morning it won't be a problem anymore."
Suddenly, it dawns on me what she's suggesting. As I stare down at the clay mug, I realize that it would certainly be easier. Clint and I have years to start a family, but this war is going on right now. Tentatively, I wrap my trembling hands around the mug. Just as I'm about to knock the contents down my throat, an image suddenly passes through my head that makes me push it back towards Babs with a new found resolve.
"No…."
The image that passed through my mind on that day in Babs' shop was the one that I'm seeing right now from the bench in the park. Clint, lovingly laughing and joking with our little girl as she tries to have her stuffed rabbit climb on the monkey bars with her.
As Aurora starts to tire out, Clint leaves her playing in the sand with Ears and walks over to me. He takes a seat on the bench and I immediately wrap my arms around him.
"You're going to Africa, aren't you?" he says calmly.
"Yes," I say as I simultaneously stare at Aurora and fight back tears.
"And you're going very soon, aren't you?"
"Four days…"
I expect him to fly into a frenzy, but instead he just wraps his arms around me tighter and lets me rest my head in his chest.
"Then we better tell her right now," he whispers in my ear.
I nod as he lifts me off the bench. We hold hands as we walk toward our beautiful daughter together.