mid-April - somewhere in the Poconos, New York
Miranda groaned as Mary massaged her lower back. "I wish you could do this everyday," she said.
"Now, sugar, you've just got few months left—you are almost there. Andy here could rub your back for you when I'm not here," she said.
Miranda groaned again. "She already does enough for me—I could never ask her to do something so personal."
"I think it would be wise to have her here when we're practicing some childbirth techniques. It will be one less thing for you to remember while you're waiting for me to arrive. I've warned you how quickly labor can progress with a second pregnancy."
"Yes, and Braxton Hicks will be stronger and there's the dangers about of a vaginal birth after a Cesarean, I know, I know," Miranda said.
Mary laughed. "I guess you've been listening to me!" She pulled away and the editor groaned at the loss of contact. "How has the heartburn been?"
"Manageable, I guess. I am eating Tums like candy, drinking milk, eating really small meals. I had this with the girls, too. Did you say you would need to adjust our schedule?"
"Yes," she said, pulling out her pocket calendar. "Let's see, today is the 16th. I'll be back in two weeks on the 30th as planned, but then for the third trimester I was hoping to come by once per week. Would you mind if we switched to Wednesdays?"
"No, that's fine. My calendar is wide open. So, when do you think my due date is?"
"It's hard to tell. You said you remember your last menstrual period being sometime in October, so you'd be looking at mid- to late-July, about three months from today," Mary said. "But I am getting the feeling that you're going to go early."
"That wouldn't be the worst thing," Miranda said as she struggled to make herself comfortable on the couch.
"Now, you have my cell phone number and my home number. I can be here within 45 minutes, but you have to call me the minute you start feeling something, okay?" Mary said, softly putting her hands on Miranda's belly.
"Yes, I will," she said. "Meanwhile, why don't I call Andrea over so you can show her how to do that massage thing."
Mary laughed as Miranda reached for her phone and sent a quick text. "I do want you to be prepared, Miranda. If there are complications, you will absolutely need to go to the hospital. I will do everything in my power to keep you here, but not at the risk of your health," she said.
"I realize that. I was thinking of coloring my hair beforehand—just in case, so I would be less recognizable," Miranda said.
"That's a good idea. You know, I think it's a boy."
"We wanted a boy," she said quietly. "My first husband and I—before the twins."
Andrea quietly let herself in and joined the women on the sofa. "James wanted a son so badly," she said, gently tracing her fingers along her belly. "My second, uh, miscarriage—it was a boy. I was at sixteen weeks."
"I'm so sorry," Mary said, reaching out and squeezing the woman's hand. "You've been doing so well with this pregnancy, so you should have nothing to worry about. Even if he comes a little early, say at 36 or 37 weeks, I think both mom and baby will be just fine."
Miranda smiled and squeezed her hand. "Andrea, thank you for joining us. Mary is about to leave, but she was going to show you how to, uh—"
"How to administer what I like to call pressure-point relief therapy. When women are farther along in their pregnancies, the growing baby puts considerable tension on the muscles and ligaments in the lower back, so, through applying direct pressure, here and here," she said, demonstrating on Miranda's lower back, "it can help significantly to relieve the pain and discomfort, and even help to re-train the muscles as the baby continues to grow."
"Oh, okay," Andrea said, watching intently.
"Here, you try," Mary said, guiding the young woman's hands to their place at Miranda's lower back. "You'll want to apply direct pressure. Miranda will be pushing back into your hands."
"Okay, so, how's this?" she asked, pushing into Miranda's lower back.
"That's excellent," she said. "Sometimes it also helps if you gently massage, kneading with your fingers. Yes, like that."
"And how often should I do this?" Andrea asked.
"Well, I would say about three to five times per day, but really when Miranda feels up to it," she said.
"I hope it's not asking too much, Andrea," Miranda said. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot."
"No, of course not. I am happy to help."
"Well, I will leave you two for now. I'll see you in two weeks, but call me if anything else comes up," Mary said. "I'll let myself out, you just stay there."
Once the midwife left, Miranda turned to look at the young woman. "Are you sure you don't mind all this?"
"Of course I don't mind. I care about you, and I'm here for whatever you need," she said, taking her hand and squeezing gently. "Why don't we recline this chair, and then I will rub your feet while you relax."
Miranda whimpered at the suggestion. "I'm sorry if I am in need of a pedicure—it's getting difficult to reach my toes these days."
"Shh, just relax," Andrea said. "I'm going to run upstairs and grab some lotion. Oh, one more thing," she said. "Your divorce was finalized this morning. Congratulations!"
The next day, Miranda was sitting at her computer, trying to work on her book when she felt searing heartburn through her chest. She reached for her antacid, and couldn't help but smile when she felt the baby kick.
"Hey, how's it going?" Andrea said, taking her by surprise.
"Oh, hi. Um, the book is not going at all. I can't decide on a topic," she said. "Caroline and Cassidy want to come visit. It's all they are talking about. I told them they'll have to wait until the end of the summer, but they think that's too long."
"I can't imagine how hard that is."
"For them or for me?"
"Both, really. But I meant for you," she clarified.
"I think I'm going to talk to James about it tonight," she said, sitting up and stretching. "Oh, I also wanted you to pickup some semi-permanent hair color—something dark blonde or light brown. If anything happens and I have to go to the hospital, I don't want to worry about being recognized."
"Okay, I'll find something," she said. "This could be fun. Are you sure you don't want red?"
"Red never washes out. And red stands out. I want to look plain and nondescript," she said.
"Oh, no one would ever use those words to describe you," Andrea said. "But I will get a selection of hair color tomorrow when I go to the store, and we can experiment."
Later that evening, after dinner, Andrea returned to the gatehouse. Miranda decided to take advantage of the privacy and talk to James, so she sent him a text message. Can you Skype now? Just you—not C & C. -M
He replied almost instantly. Sure. Calling now.
She didn't expect him to answer, let alone call so quickly. She quickly arranged herself at the computer and accepted the call.
"Hi, Miranda, how are you?"
"Good. Thanks for calling. I spent a lot of time thinking today. Are you sure you're by yourself? The girls won't walk in?"
"All alone," he said, getting up and locking the bedroom door. "Why? What's going on?"
"I was thinking about our first apartment in Brooklyn—before people actually wanted to live there. And about how close we came to having a son. I'm sorry I was never able to give that to you," she said, wiping her eyes.
"Oh, don't worry, honey. We have two beautiful daughters I couldn't love more if I tried."
"My from Stephen—it's finalized. But there's one more thing," she said as she slowly pushed her chair back and stood in front of the computer, softly running her hands along her belly. "He doesn't know."
"Oh my god, Mira, I don't know what to say. Congratulations? Or I'm sorry? This is why you took a sabbatical, isn't it?"
Miranda nodded as tears fell down her cheeks. "I didn't know it would be this hard. I miss the girls so much. I even miss you. I know that probably sounds insane, but you were always there for me when I was pregnant. We wanted a baby so badly."
Miranda sat down and saw that James was in tears, too. "Miranda, what are you going to do? You can't give it away—I mean, are you?"
She gently nodded. "That's the plan. I don't want to share custody with Stephen, and I don't know how I would explain things. No one else knows besides you, my midwife, a clinic in Paris, and my assistant Andrea."
"So you're just going to come back from your sabbatical as if nothing happened?"
"It won't be that easy," she said. "James, I've been trying so hard to distract myself, to distance myself from this tiny human growing inside me, but I can't. It's selfish of me to give up this child because I don't want to deal with his father. But now, I don't know what to do and I'm just petrified."
"Andrea is there with you, right?"
"Yes."
"How far along are you?"
"Twenty-six weeks or so. The heartburn is back with a vengeance. I don't know what to do. I was considering telling the girls."
"No. I mean, I don't think it's a good idea. They're not old enough to understand why you would do this and give the baby to another family," he said.
"I suppose you are right."
"Will you stand up and turn around again, slower this time?"
She nodded.
"Mira, you look amazing, really. Your body—it's incredible. Can you—I mean, would you—"
"James, I know what you want, and no. It's not a good idea."
"Fine," he said throwing his hands up. "What can I do for you—aside from taking care of the girls?"
"Take the girls' minds off of seeing me. No sooner than August 1st. Every time they ask to see me sooner, the guilt is unbearable."
"Consider it done."
"And it goes without saying, but do not breathe a word to anyone."
"I know," he said. "Do you want me to go get the girls so you can say goodnight?"
"No. I'll text them tonight and call them tomorrow. James, thank you."
He nodded and ended the call.
.
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TBC - only a few chapters left...totally thinking about changing the ending i have written. thoughts? next chapter should be good, i think.