A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and also to those who reviewed the new one-shot story I posted yesterday ("Intrusion"). Since that story is complete, I don't have a good way of thanking the reviewers other than to do it here. Anyway, if you haven't seen it yet, please check it out.
I also owe a special thank you to my wonderful beta reader, Rosalie, for her help with this chapter. My first version of it was rather dull, and she gave me a suggestion that helped me come up with a much better ending for it. So, thank you, Rosalie!
Chapter 45: Tris – Baby Shower
Every part of my body seems to be uncomfortable these days. It's impossible to get more than two hours of sleep at a time, between the baby kicking and the way my muscles cramp up whenever I stay in one position for too long.
The other day, in a moment of fuzzy thinking, I made the mistake of saying that I can't wait until the baby is born, so I can get a good night's sleep. I've never heard Shauna laugh so hard.
Tobias has been as supportive as possible, massaging my legs when they cramp up and doing virtually all of the housework so I can rest, but there's only so much he can do. My body is still taking the brunt of bringing our daughter into this world. At least there's only one month left to go….
We've been attending childbirth and child-rearing classes at Erudite, which has certainly been interesting. I'm glad that I've stayed in shape over the years, using our exercise room regularly, but I still feel ridiculous doing some of the stretches they have us practice in our birth preparation class. The worst is the one where we get on our hands and knees and arch our heads up; I can't help but feel like a cow.
Overall, though, I'd say that the breast-feeding class was the most eye-opening. I always assumed that babies just knew how to eat, but apparently a lot of them don't, and there's a whole art to helping them learn. And to using a breast pump, for that matter. I've never seen Tobias turn quite so red as he did during that demonstration. I can't imagine how bad it would have been if they'd used a real person for it instead of a dummy.
Still, the classes were well worth it. We can both change a diaper one-handed now, and we know what to check for, in what order, when a baby cries. We also have a pretty good idea what to expect during the labor process.
That last one makes me wonder, sometimes, just what I've gotten myself into.
Our instructor, Madira, keeps saying that labor won't last forever, no matter how much it feels like it at the time. It's a somewhat reassuring thought, though it would be a lot easier if we knew in advance how long it will take.
I guess I have one advantage – unlike most of the others in our class, I've dealt with some things that were probably not much easier than childbirth. The fights during Dauntless initiation left me unconscious more than once, and Jeanine's experiments were their own kind of torture. Plus, I've been shot, and then there are the injuries that Marcus inflicted, and the ones I suffered in Philadelphia.
I don't mention those comparisons to Tobias. Right now, I suspect he's feeling guilty enough about getting me pregnant in the first place – and causing my present discomfort. I won't add any reminders about other pain he played a role in, particularly when it was almost nine years ago.
It's early afternoon when we return from the final session of our last class. There's a feeling of accomplishment that goes with it – as if we're ready now whenever our daughter is. Of course, we're not, really, since we haven't finished decorating the nursery, but at least the room itself is done. Amar and George did most of the work on that, though Tobias and I helped with the design and some portion of the manual labor. It's the easiest labor I'm likely to face this year.
Tobias releases my hand as we approach the gathering room, letting me go first since it's impossible to walk side-by-side through a doorway these days. I must be more tired than I thought, because I don't even notice the streamers hanging overhead or the balloons mixed in with them or even the people crowded just out of sight as I waddle into the room, heading straight for the couch. It's not until the air is filled with the sound of voices shouting, "Surprise!" that I realize what's happening. I didn't know I could still jump so high.
"Don't do that," I immediately snap in response, holding one hand over my racing heart and the other over my suddenly active baby bump as Tobias places a broad palm on my back to steady me. My eyes roam the room, taking in the crowd of friends and family who are now swarming toward me, laughing.
"I told you she didn't know," Christina all but squeals as she pulls me into a tight hug. She's clearly thrilled that they managed to keep this secret, and I can't blame her for that. Really, it's impressive that our entire faction avoided giving me any hints, particularly since it's now obvious that they were all in on it – even Tobias, judging by the slightly apologetic look he gives me.
"Yeah, yeah, good job," I mutter grudgingly. But I can't stop the grin that starts spreading over my face as the initial shock wears off. It's genuinely nice to see my family and friends all gathered to celebrate our little one's pending arrival.
"Come sit down," Christina urges, tugging me toward the couch, where a seat of honor has been set up. Streamers frame it in the colors of all the factions, with two large red arrows pointing to the spot designated for me. A large sign hangs over those, reading "Mommy" in bold black letters. It's strange to think of that title applying to me.
"Is this my permanent seat now?" I ask with a smile, thinking about how we've all been fighting for the prime spots in this room lately, ever since Uriah and Zeke broke one of the couches with a game-gone-wrong. It's been taking a surprisingly long time to replace it.
"Yes," everyone except Uriah choruses simultaneously in response. Christina smacks her fiancé on the arm, and he belatedly joins in, his expression reflecting some mix of humor and sheepishness. It makes me laugh again as I make an exaggerated show of taking my seat. Tobias sits beside me before anyone else can.
"All right," Shauna calls to the very crowded room, "everyone grab a chair from the dining room or find somewhere else to sit. We're going to play a game."
I watch as they scramble for seats, lugging chairs in and placing them as close to us as possible. It's a large gathering, with our entire faction plus Anna, Caleb, Evelyn, Margaret, her girlfriend Brenda, Kevin, his wife Miriam, their son Michael, Susan, her husband Jeremiah, their daughter Mary, Tori, Bud, and Johanna. I didn't realize this room could hold twenty-four people, but they squeeze together and sit on laps and on the floor, and somehow they manage to fit.
It feels a little like being on a stage, though, with all the dining room chairs gathered in front of me and every face directed at me. Fortunately, I've spoken to enough crowds not to be nervous.
Christina stands up in the gap between my couch and the chairs, holding a set of cards up as Shauna explains what we're doing.
"We've created a deck of cards with baby-related challenges from each of the five original factions. We'll go around the room, and when it's your turn, you'll draw a card, read it aloud, and then do what it says. Some of the challenges are straight-forward, while others are open to interpretation. Have fun with them!"
She grins when Christina offers the deck to her first, and I glimpse black on the back of the card that she draws.
"Give the father-to-be a task that he must obey," she reads, "and a consequence if he doesn't." Smirking, she turns to Tobias. "Change every nighttime diaper for the first week, or else you have to put Lionel to bed for a week instead."
My husband rolls his eyes before saying, "I'll take the diapers." A small cheer erupts from the others before Christina extends the deck to Uriah. I watch as he draws a card with a gray back.
"Suggest a thoughtful name for the baby." He frowns slightly as he debates that, before his face lights up. "Gertrude!" he shouts. At the collective groans and boos, he adds, "Hey, I'd totally name my kid Gertrude. Particularly if it's a boy."
He grins at his fiancé. "Gertrude Pedrad. Tell me that doesn't have a ring to it?"
Christina doesn't bother to respond, instead moving on to Zeke, who draws a red card. He studies it for a long moment before turning his gaze to Shauna and then to Tobias. Evaluating his best friend for a solid five seconds, he finally says, "No, I'm not nearly suicidal enough for this."
Standing, he steps over to my husband and hands him the card. Tobias' eyes flicker to it briefly, and I see the corners of his mouth tug upwards. "Wise choice, Zeke," he states in a low tone before leaning toward me and claiming my lips with his own. It's a short kiss, but an intense one nevertheless, especially since it's in front of practically everyone we know.
When he pulls away, he grins, holding the card up and reading, "Kiss the mother-to-be."
A cheer runs through the room, and I smile back at him despite the slight flush I can feel on my cheeks.
"Aw, I was hoping to get that one," Christina blurts out, her voice as loud as ever. I laugh, but judging by the expressions I see around me, at least half of the group thinks she's serious. Uriah, in particular, stares between us for a long moment, his mouth falling open slightly.
"Damn, that's hot," he mutters. This time, I'm the one who smacks him.
It takes close to an hour for everyone to get a turn, with Miriam having to create a diaper out of streamers and put it on Kevin, Tori making a baby doll out of balloons – which Caleb then had to "deliver," and Amar attempting to identify what flavor of baby food he's eating from an unlabeled jar. It turns out to be cat food.
The final card has Margaret singing a made-up lullaby at the top of her lungs before we declare the game done and dig into the enormous cake that Tori and Bud brought with them. It's delicious, as Dauntless cake always is, and we're all in good moods by the time Tobias and I start opening the presents.
Prior to today, there were items we knew we still needed for the nursery, and we're delighted to receive those. But the Abnegation in me never even thought about the majority of the gifts we're given.
There's an automated swing and a baby carrier and a nursing pillow and two different specialty cans – one for storing dirty cloth diapers and another for used disposable ones. There are more outfits than it seems like the baby could possibly wear before outgrowing them. And then there are the toys. I remember being shocked by the sheer volume in Lionel's room, but by the end of the day, we're well on our way to matching his stockpile.
I have no idea where we'll put it all.
My gaze meets Susan's as I thank her – genuinely – for the handmade blanket she gave us, and I know we both find this enormous load of gifts overwhelming.
It's harder to tell what Tobias thinks. He tilts his head as he spins a mobile that's apparently designed to hang over the crib, watching the trees and stars and colorful fruits on it move in a mesmerizing pattern. I don't know if he's thinking that our child will be far luckier than he was or if he's debating how much of this stuff we'll actually use. This isn't really the time to ask.
The formal part of the celebration appears to be over now, because the room is quickly disintegrating into loud chaos, and Christina and Shauna aren't making any attempt to restore order.
People start moving around, clustering into small groups so they can talk, and I watch them with growing exhaustion. I'm slightly startled when Tori perches on the arm of the couch by me, smiling a little as her eyes move over my distended abdomen.
"You look uncomfortable," she comments.
I nod, suppressing a yawn. "It's almost as bad as Dauntless initiation."
She gives an appreciative chortle. "So, what are you really naming the baby? Other than Gertrude."
"Abigail," I say firmly. It took us a long time to decide, but I'm pleased with our choice.
"It's pretty." She cocks her head at me thoughtfully. "Though I'm a little surprised you didn't go with Natalie."
For a second, I stare at her, feeling vaguely like I've been punched in the gut. It's not that her comment was inappropriate – it's just that it was totally unexpected. I didn't realize she even knew my mother's name. And I'm sure it doesn't help that my reactions are all over the place these days. The doctors assure me that it's from the hormones and that it's perfectly normal, but that doesn't make things feel less intense.
Across from me, Caleb clears his throat, drawing our attention. "Actually," he tells Tori, "I asked her to leave that name for me to use, if I ever have a daughter." His gaze meets mine, and he gives a small, sad smile. I know he still feels guilty for his role in the war on Abnegation, and using our parents' names for his children seems like it might help him, so I had no problem granting his request.
The answer clearly satisfies Tori, and she pats me on the arm lightly. "Well, Abigail is a beautiful name," she reiterates before rising.
She's a step away when I find myself asking, "Did you know my mother?" It never occurred to me before, but it's possible that Mom was still in Dauntless when Tori transferred there – or that they went to school together. They were probably close in age, after all.
Tori pauses, looking back at me thoughtfully. "Just a little," she finally replies. "Enough to know that you're a lot like her – in the ways that matter." She smiles gently – well, as gently as Tori ever does. "You'll be a good mother, Tris."
"Yes, she will," Anna says confidently as she stops next to Tori. Their eyes meet briefly, and they exchange a nod of greeting, before Tori continues on her way and my grandmother comes over to me.
"She's right, you know," Anna tells me softly. "You remind me very much of Natalie sometimes." The words spread a sweet, comfortable warmth through my insides. I would like nothing more than to be as good and loving a mother as mine was.
Anna hesitates, her eyes glistening slightly, before she presses another package into my hands. "This one is for you two to open later, in private." She leans down, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "In the meantime, I need to get going. I'll see you on Wednesday if you're up to it. If not, that's okay, too. We have the bulk of the work done, anyway."
I nod as she turns to my husband, patting him lightly on his shoulder. "And you, Tobias, will be a good father," she adds. "I have complete faith in you." He smiles, his hand finding mine and squeezing hard, and I know that the compliment means a great deal to him. He has always valued Anna's opinion, particularly when it comes to me and my family.
The party disbands slowly after that, with people stopping to say their goodbyes and heading out. Evelyn gives me a lingering hug, teary-eyed as she whispers that she couldn't have asked for a better daughter-in-law, and Margaret reiterates that she wants to baby-sit at least once a month. It's hard to believe that she's now a little older than I was when Tobias and I were married. I wonder how serious she and Brenda are.
Caleb kisses my cheek and shakes Tobias' hand before heading out with Cara. I'm not quite sure where they're going, but they've been spending an increasing amount of time together lately. It wouldn't surprise me if they've been dating and just keeping it quiet in case it doesn't work out.
Finally, three hours after the party started, Zeke is chasing his cake-covered son through the gift boxes while Tobias and most of the rest of our faction lug everything downstairs to our apartment. I make my way slowly after them.
"I'm having them put everything in our office for now," Tobias tells me, slipping into place beside me and taking my arm as I start down the stairs. It's probably a good idea, given how much trouble I've been having with balance lately. "I figure we can bring things into the nursery as we're ready for them."
I nod, feeling exhausted from the long day and not at all wanting to face a pile of items to be sorted.
Tobias gives a wry smile. "Honestly, I don't even know what half that stuff is."
"I don't, either," I admit. "But I guess we have a month to figure it out."
He leads me into our room, clearly realizing that I'm tired enough to want a nap by now, but I stop when I see Anna's present lying on our bed. Tobias presumably put it there, and I can't help the curiosity that rises in me at the sight. There must be a reason she wanted to keep it private.
"Can we open it now?" I ask, feeling oddly excited at the thought of this one, even after all the gifts we were just given. I haven't received many presents in my life that were too special for others to see.
Tobias chuckles at my enthusiasm. "If you want." He sits on the end of the bed, pulling me down beside him and setting the box on my lap. I unwrap it carefully.
A pink and blue book sits inside the box, surrounded by protective tissue. Its cover is made of some soft, squishy material, and black letters on the front state, "Baby Book." I smile a little at the thought of recording details about Abigail as she grows, but at the same time, this doesn't make sense. Why would Anna want us to open this alone?
I get the answer when I gently lift the cover. My lips part, and beside me, I can hear Tobias' breath catch. Handwritten in neat letters is an inscription:
To our beautiful daughter, Natalie
My fingers tremble as I turn the pages, one at a time, reading what my grandparents wrote about Mom when she was little. It's filled with measurements of her height and weight, and dates and ages – when she first smiled, and sat up, and crawled; when she said her first word, which was "uh-oh"; when she took her first step; and a hundred other firsts I couldn't possibly have known before.
Even better are the handwritten notes, describing her behavior at different ages up through eight years old. They discuss her personality, her likes and dislikes, who her friends were, and how she interacted with her family.
The Abnegation don't record information like this, calling it selfish to dwell on any one person, so there's nothing like this about me or Tobias or Caleb. But here is a record of everything I ever wanted to know about my mother's childhood. Here is something I can look at as Abigail grows, to see if she's like her grandmother. Here is the best gift I could possibly have received today.
Tobias wraps an arm around me and pulls me close, placing a gentle kiss on my temple. "You know," he murmurs softly, "I hope Abigail is a lot like Anna."
A smile makes its way through the tears of joy and love that are threatening to spill down my face. "I'll second that," I whisper.
A/N: Reviews are always appreciated! And please check out my "Intrusion" one-shot story. :-)