Friday morning rolled around quickly, and with it the end of the academic portion on the conference. After breakfast Sara and Gil joined the gathering in the main hall the conference had used. Sara could feel the excitement running through her husband as they walked over to the starting line of the roach finals. Fifteen roaches would race for five prizes; watching all the bug lovers around her crane the necks to see the racers get ready, Sara forced herself not to laugh and contented herself with an amused smirk instead. Seemingly, this was a serious business she mused, seeing the medal podium for the top five. She moved to the finish line with her camera and Gil stood next to Clyde and Rose, a recent college graduate and conference first timer.
They readied their contenders; Gil and Sara had managed to get Blake and Emerson through, as well as their wild card Freud. Clyde had been flummoxed when only Grass made it to the finals; in his semifinal heat, Weed had refused to budge from the start line until every other roach had crossed the finish, and Herb had been disqualified in the quarter finals for taking the course in reverse. Sara readied her camera as the referee raised the start flag. Sara clicked the shutter button to video the race. The noise was deafening as the roaches were released; the owners watched tensely as the crowd shouted and cheered their favorites on. Even Sara felt herself yelling for Freud as the roach established a strong lead. Gil came running to the end of the track, slipping into a space next to her as Freud crossed the finish line; Sara shrieked with joy as Hans and Nikko roared with approval. They race ended when the last two racers tied for fourteenth place.
Money began change hands between those who had placed bets; only entomologists would gamble on bugs, thought Sara shaking her head with a smile. She watched and photographed as the fifth place medal, was awarded to Grass as Clyde smirked like a kid high on stolen cake. Fourth place was given to Emerson, and third to Blake as Hans questioned Gil on just how it was he managed to do so well with his racers. Rose, and her roach Martin, took the silver medal, leaving gold for Freud. Elated, Gil walked over to Sara and placed the gold medal around her neck before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The room dissolved into the post conference party as the competitors gathered up their pets. Sara examined the medals as they took the roaches back upstairs. They were real metal, and had the conference logo and dates etched onto the back, as well as a detailed roach engraved into the front.
Amused at the folly of the entomological world, she sat down on the bed, examining all three awards as Gil settled and fed his prize runners.
"What do you want to do now dear?" asked Gil, sitting next to her.
"You want to go back down to the party?" she returned. He shrugged,
"Not particularly. How about we go back to the beach?"
"Definitely," she grinned, getting up to find some shorts.
…
They went back to the cove; getting lost in the tide pools and paddling in the warm ocean. Sara filled her memory card with exquisite photographs of tiny life forms, while Gil followed the path of crab searching for food. By the time they watched the sun set, curled together in the sand, Sara was almost asleep in Gil's arms.
…
The next morning they had time to eat, pack and get to the airport, where their flight was delayed two hours. Arriving in Chicago a technical issue with the plane kept them from disembarking from the aircraft for another hour and twenty minutes. Tired and cranky from the motion sickness induced vomiting, Sara argued with the ticketing officer after they missed their connection. Gil stood back, rather than get involved. It was better to let Sara vent her anger than it would be to attempt calming her; a tired, sick and pregnant Sara was not a reasonable Sara. An hour later as they boarded a flight to New Hampshire, settling into their first class seats, a complementary upgrade from the director of the ticketing office, Gil bit his lip to suppress a laugh and helped Sara to stow her carry-on bag.
…
Getting out of the car they could hear the chorus of barks behind the front door. As they walked inside they were swamped by animals. Lucy threw herself at them as Hank charged at Gil's legs. Sara struggled into the living room and sank onto the sofa where Lucy crawled into her lap and planted her forepaws on her mistress' shoulders before sniffing her all over. Sara laughed and tickled her ears. A loud and insistent meow caught her attention just before Juliet pounced on Lucy; the two rolled away, wrestling. Socks sauntered into Sara's lap, purring happily.
"Hey baby," hummed Sara, scooping the black cat up into her arms. Gil sank down next to her, plucking Romeo from the coffee table as he did so.
"What are you doing on there hmm?" he asked the ball of silver fur. A paw darted out to smack his cheek. Sara giggled and reached out to scratch his chin.
The doorbell rang and Gil, too tired to move from his seat and having spotted a familiar green car out the window, yelled
"Come in Candy." He flopped back into the cushions, yawning as Hank propped his head on Gil's knees, a pitiful expression in his eyes as he begged for attention. Lucy barked excitedly as Candy walked in; racing over to greet the girl. Candy produced a treat from her pocket, slipping it to the puppy. Instantly, Hank abandoned Grissom's petting and ran to the newcomer, seeking his own treats.
"Hi guys," said the teen, her gaze sweeping over the exhausted pair. "I called and there was no answer, so I figured you were delayed and I'd better come over and feed them dinner."
"Delayed in not the term I'd use," snorted Sara, getting to her feet to give her friend a hug. Behind her, Grissom shook his head at Candy, warning her not to go there. With a slight raise of her eyebrows, Candy proceeded to regale them with the news of the last week or so.
"And everyone behaved," she concluded, picking up Juliet. "Except for Romeo collecting socks and stashing them under the crib. I don't know where he got them from, but his collection kept multiplying." Gil looked at the kitten in his lap; Romeo reached up and batted his fingers.
"Yeah, he's good at that," he admitted. "Thank you for looking after them," he said, his sentiment sincerely heartfelt.
"Oh, no problem," grinned Candy, "it was a blast. My pleasure." Sara straightened from digging in their case and handed Candy a paper bag.
"Thank you, for everything," she said softly as Candy took the present and opened it, revealing a set of natural color oil pastels.
"Wow, these are beautiful," murmured the girl. "Thanks," she grinned, and then asked,
"So how did the cockroaches do?" Gil unzipped his backpack and lifted out the jar, settling them on the coffee table.
"They were brilliant," he exclaimed, pulling out the medals to show Candy.
"You get actual medals," asked the girl, stunned.
"It's excellent," said Gil excitedly. Sara rolled her eyes for Candy's benefit as her husband launched into a detailed account of their racing exploits. Sara wandered into the kitchen to make tea; once the kettle was on she sat down at the table and leaned her head on her hands, gazing at Shakespeare. The fluid, dreamlike movements of the beautiful fish made her smile softly. She inhaled deep, gentle breaths, letting tension roll away from her body and clearing her mind.
In the living room Candy quietly filled Grissom in on the shelter team's plans for the next day. He listened attentively and nodded in agreement with her. When Sara came back with tea, they were busily playing with the roaches, having let the dogs outside and shut the cats out of the room.
…
"Mmm," sighed Sara as she stretched happily in the kitchen doorway the next morning. "What's on the agenda today?" She walked over to her husband, seated at the kitchen table, and stole a mouthful of his cornflakes. He pulled her down into his lap and kissed her gently.
"Nothing much," he mused, and indicated the bowl and spoon already set out for her. Sliding into her chair Sara grinned at him and poured herself some cereal.
"We need groceries," she mused, her finger tracing Shakespeare's movements along the side of the tank.
"I'll take care of that," said Gil, absently petting Juliet as she stretched up on her back legs and planted her front paws on his thigh. Sara turned to him, eyebrows raised. They normally tackled weekend chores together.
"Candy is taking you out this afternoon," he admitted.
"Ok, and I haven't heard about this before because…?"
"Ah, it's some secret girl ritual thing," he fumbled pathetically. Pressing on, he truthfully added, "I didn't pressure her for details. She assured me it wouldn't be dangerous." Sara snorted,
"Oh yeah, that makes me feel so much better. So what do you know?"
"Nothing," he protested, face now poker smooth. She eyed him suspiciously.
"Fine, but I'm holding you accountable if I need to."
"Of course dear!"
…
Candy arrived at three thirty, whistling cheerfully as she let Sammie into the yard to play with her friends. Sara opened the door, frowning.
"Where are we going?" she asked by way of greeting. Candy smirked.
"Wouldn't you like to know," she replied with a grin. "You ready?"
"I don't know," retorted Sara. She gestured to her outfit, "am I?"
"That's fine," replied the teenager, nodding at Sara's jeans and flowing green shirt. "Let's go."
"Have a good time," said Gil wickedly, waving them off.
"I knew it," muttered Sara as they got in the car.
"Knew what?" asked Candy, starting the engine.
"That he knew more than he was letting on."
"Of course he did, I had to warn him."
"What?" Sara turned to her friend, who kept her eyes fixed on the road.
"Ok," relented Candy. "This wasn't my idea, and I tried to talk them out of it. But Mikah felt so bad about upsetting you that she was looking for a way to make up for it."
"Up for what and how?"
"The whole iPad picture ambush! I did make them swear to follow the rules; practical, eco-friendly, no clutter and no pink, but I couldn't curb all of their enthusiasm. I tried explaining it really wasn't your kind of thing, but, well, yeah… I did my best."
"Candy, where are we going?" asked Sara, her alarm growing with each passing word. Candy sighed, still looking straight ahead.
"To your baby shower."
…
Sara surveyed the break room with an amused smile.
"I take it you were on the decorating committee," she murmured in Candy's ear. Her friend nodded, grinning. The walls were covered not with tacky pink or blue banners, but with purple and green, hand-drawn butterfly and caterpillar cut outs, each of which was individually painted and detailed.
"I thought you could use them as wall decorations if you wanted to; they'll match the quilt."
"They're beautiful," smiled Sara, examining the closest butterfly. Mary, Mariah, Mikah, Mabel and Mae were already there, having been on shift before the party. As they talked with Candy and Sara, the rest of the M's arrived, along with Kenzie and Alana, Mary's two teenage girls who often helped out after school and Rachel, a veterinary student who had spent the past three months interning with Mariah.
The talk was good, and the games were only mildly embarrassing and occasionally funny, but when all attention turned to her and the pile of baby gifts her well-wishers had presented her with, Sara cringed with discomfort and the feeling that she was back in the witness box being interrogated by some money grubbing reincarnation of the devil masquerading as a defense attorney. Candy jumped in to rescue her and began passing out drinks and snacks, keeping people's attention from focusing solely on Sara. Before they knew it, time was up and people had other commitments to attend to.
"Thank you so much for rescuing me," sighed Sara as Candy pulled out onto the main road.
"No problem. Did you enjoy any of it?" asked Candy worriedly, signaling to change lanes.
"Yes I did," said Sara thoughtfully, "I just hate being the center of attention."
"Same here," came the cheerful answer. "But look on the bright side; you got a ton of cool baby stuff."
…
"You look like you survived alright," remarked Gil, as Candy left with a wave. Sara glared at him, and then smiled.
"It wasn't that bad," she conceded, "except for when they were all staring at me like an audience at the movies. There was so much estrogen in that room I felt like I was drowning in it."
"I think they meant well," he told her as they spread the gifts over the spare bed to examine them.
"Oh I know they did," she laughed, opening a wrapped box from Mabel. "And I appreciate the thought. It's just not my thing." She pushed aside a sheet of purple tissue paper, clearly Candy's explanation of the rules had stuck with everyone, and unearthed a collection of knitted animals. "Wow," she murmured, lifting them out. Gil stopped examining the baby monitor from Mary and looked over his wife's hands. The collection contained all the typical zoo animals, pets and wild animals; twenty five creatures in all, and each no taller than six inches.
"Did she make these?" asked Gil incredulously, as he examined a cheetah and an owl. Sara put down a Shetland pony and stared at a meerkat.
"Oh yeah, Mabel knits at about fifty yards an hour. I watched her on her lunch break once; she doesn't even need to look at what she's doing. Then again, she has six kids and ten grandkids, with another three due next year. Her three daughters-in-law are all expecting in February, if you can believe that. Candy told me that Mabel's golden wedding anniversary party was in June, and that the alcohol was flowing very well."
Gil laughed at the thought.
"Imagine if they all delivered on the same day," he mused merrily. Sara shuddered and opened a bag to reveal solid color body suits.
"I like these," she smiled, looking at the cheerful colors.
"Matching socks," he laughed, pulling them out of the bag and showing her. Hearing her name, Socks came running into the room and bounded onto the bed, landing in the middle of a pile of clothing. She scrabbled for balance, her feet sliding out from under her. Gil plucked her off the bed and tickled her belly as she curled her back into his arm, staring up at him.
With Socks helping, he and Sara sorted through the remainder of gifts and scrawled notes of thanks. They conducted an inventory of what they had and what they didn't while munching on fruit and yoghurt. Laughing and joking together, neither noticed that they were now operating under a much more optimistic outlook.
...
I hope you enjoyed this chapter; please let me know what you think :)
Up next: I am editing the next chapter of Ethereal Theory and then working on the next part of this story; lots of excitment coming up in a few chapters...