Author's Note: Sorry the last chapter went over like a lead balloon. Here is the next chapter. There isn't any Evelyn/Adrian YET, but just a couple of scenes with Evelyn and Marisol then Evelyn and Carmen. Please, good or bad, let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Evelyn doesn't make it a habit to rifle through the drawers of Marisol's desk, but she needs the file of a very wealthy, very vocal client. Grant Mercer has always been a difficult person to deal with, but until now Evelyn has never had to handle him in a professional capacity. Unfortunately, he is a much more ruthless businessman than he is party guest.
He is a miserable old coot, closer to a century in age than most antiques, who will voice his strong dislike of décor or a female waiter's too-high collar in front of an entire crowd. Just like at parties, he has threatened to scream his dissatisfaction with 'Maids by Marisol' to every person in Beverly Hills if his complaint isn't handled immediately, demanding the maid in question terminated and black balled from ever working again in this part of Los Angeles.
Of course, Evelyn is the one that had to answer the phone when he called. If it had been anyone but Mr. Mercer, she would have told him to take his complaint and shove it. What he is accusing one of the maids of is ludicrous, but he is Grant Mercer, a man who has been around so long he knows where all the bodies are buried. He rules Beverly Hills with just a look, every person who has crossed his path terrified that he will reveal their dirtiest secret. Evelyn doesn't have any secrets to hide, even if Grant reveals Adrian's disgusting little hobby, it no longer matters to her. What does matter, is the fact that he has brought several large corporations to their knees with just a complaint, so it would be all too easy for him to ruin Marisol's little business.
The file on the maid in question isn't in the filing cabinet, it isn't on the immaculate desk, and since Marisol is busy dealing with another client at the moment, Evelyn finds herself rummaging through the drawers of Marisol's desk. So far, the first three drawers have turned up nothing more than an array of office supplies and applications, the fourth drawer appears to be just as useless. Moving aside a few stray papers, she freezes when she finds an unopened pregnancy test staring back at her.
Evelyn narrows her eyes, confused but also wanting to make sure she is seeing this correctly. She remembers a night well over a year ago when Marisol and she were planning the book party. The two had enjoyed too much wine and began talking of their children. Marisol told of her inability to conceive thus leading to the adoption of her son. Evelyn sympathized, sharing her story of a botched C-section leading to her inability to have any more biological children.
With this knowledge, and the fact that Marisol isn't exactly thirty, Evelyn is more than a little shocked to find a pregnancy test in her desk. Realizing how hypocritical that is, since she herself is no longer thirty-five and finds herself pregnant after years of being told she would never conceive, she rolls her eyes. She knows first-hand doctors can be wrong and when you least expect it, you can find yourself pregnant. Combine that with the knowledge Marisol is involved with Peter, plus her little fling with Jesse, it is very possible Marisol could also be pregnant.
"What are you doing?" Marisol asks as she enters the room.
Evelyn startles, her gaze quickly going landing on Marisol. She takes a step back from the desk, momentarily at a loss for words. She wasn't technically snooping, but she did uncover something she is sure she wasn't supposed to know about. Her eyes go from the pregnancy test to Marisol, and back again. Marisol cocks her head to the side, attempting to decipher what is going on with Evelyn.
"Are you ok?" Marisol asks, taking a few steps over to the desk.
"Are you pregnant?" Evelyn blurts out, unable to stop the words.
Marisol pauses then takes the remaining steps to the desk. She walks around to Evelyn, glances at the opened drawer and the pregnancy test in it, and sighs. This isn't how she expected to broach this topic, but since Evelyn has found the pregnancy test, she might as well explain.
"I was going to ask you the same thing," Marisol says evenly, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she looks at the other woman. Evelyn is caught off guard by the statement.
"I…wh…." Evelyn stammers, her eyes widening.
Marisol purses her lips, fighting the laughter bubbling up. It is always amusing to watch Evelyn maneuver through the unexpected, but this isn't something to joke about. Marisol also recalls the night they planned the book party. Even through the anesthetizing effect of the wine, it was obvious the pain caused by Evelyn's inability to have more children. Pregnancy isn't a conclusion Marisol came to lightly, but after weeks of watching Evelyn sway or shy away from her favorite foods, even coffee, it is the only plausible explanation. She was hoping to have a calm, rational conversation with Evelyn about all of this, but nothing is ever calm or rational with a Powell.
Evelyn continues to just stare at Marisol. As each week has passed since finding out about the pregnancy, Evelyn has become cognizant of the fact her window of hiding the pregnancy from others is narrowing. She is eleven weeks along, so close to the second trimester and the small sense of security it brings, but it still feels too soon to tell people. She has grown accustomed to speaking of the pregnancy freely with James and Adrian, but she doesn't think she's ready to share this news with anyone else. If something tragic happens, there is no way she can handle the pitying looks offered by her concerned 'friends'. Until the day she dies, she will never forget, or forgive, all the sad faced, well intentioned acquaintances who offered their condolences and sickening platitudes after Barrett's death. That is one of the main reasons she is so adamant about keeping the pregnancy between herself, Adrian and James. If something should happen, it will be hard enough to handle their sympathy.
"Evelyn?" Marisol is surprised by how quiet she is. She expected anything from raucous laughter at such a preposterous idea, to screaming and maybe even physical aggression at such a suggestion. What she didn't expect was calm, quiet acceptance.
"How did you know?" Evelyn asks with a sigh, dropping into the desk chair.
She really wanted to wait before people found out. A few more weeks, to have time to wrap her mind around everything, for the pregnancy to seem more permeant. Obviously with Marisol that isn't going to happen. The woman has always been too smart for her own good.
Marisol's eyes widen in shock. For some odd reason, it never occurred to her that Evelyn already knew she was pregnant. To Evelyn, denial is an art, one she is well versed in. Apparently, this time logic has won out over denial. Marisol perches on the edge of the desk then pats Evelyn's bare arm.
"So you are pregnant?" Marisol asks, a smile tugging at her lips. Evelyn nods. "That's wonderful; congratulations!" Marisol gushes, unable to contain her excitement.
Evelyn glances up at her, her eyes narrowed.
"What's wrong?" Marisol asks, surprised by the lack of enthusiasm. She understands this was probably a shock, but Evelyn loves children. She will be a great mother.
Evelyn purses her lips as she mules over the question. James and Adrian have asked her this on multiple occasions but she has never allowed herself to verbalize her feelings. She is aware of why she doesn't allow herself to become excited over this pregnancy, but it isn't something either man would understand. Marisol might be different.
"I'm afraid if I celebrate this pregnancy, become too attached…." Evelyn sighs, closing her eyes and leaning back in the chair.
She doesn't finish the thought but Marisol understands. Marisol places her hand against Evelyn's arm, offers her a reassuring look, and Evelyn, with her eyes still closed, pats Marisol's hand. It is nice to express her concern without being met with the optimistic outcomes or told to think positively. Reality isn't always positive.
"So," Evelyn says a few moments later, straightening in the chair. "What tipped you off?" She asks, more to change the subject than out of curiosity.
Marisol laughs slightly then explains. "You have been turning green at just about everything except apple juice. You hate apples!"
Evelyn scoffs and rolls her eyes. That's two people the apple juice has tipped off. Then again, the frequent dashes to the bathroom haven't helped. Also, if her pants look as tight as they feel this morning, that is a clear indicator as well.
"Is James excited?" Marisol asks, unable to refrain from questioning Evelyn about the pregnancy.
"He is pleased the child and I are healthy, but I wouldn't call him 'excited'. Why would he be?" Evelyn shakes her head, confused by the question.
"Why wouldn't he be?" Marisol counters. Again, this probably came as a shock, but this wonderful news.
"Why wouldn't he be excited his girlfriend is pregnant by her soon-to-be ex-husband?" Evelyn asks drolly, rolling her eyes. James has been so understanding throughout this entire thing, but she doesn't expect him to be the bubbly, nervous ball of energy Adrian has been since she announced the pregnancy.
"Adrian is the father?!" Marisol gasps, her mouth hanging open.
Evelyn looks at Marisol, eyes wide and brow furrowed, until she realizes that Marisol is serious. She honestly thought James is the father. Evelyn snorts, places her hand against her lips to stop the laughter, then clears her throat. She leans forward in the chair before explaining.
"Marisol, I'm eleven weeks along. I haven't known James that long." It is a bit reminiscent of explaining to Adrian that James isn't the father. She supposes she will have to get used to this assumption.
"So you conceived…." Marisol narrows her eyes, mentally counting back the weeks.
"Memorial Day," Evelyn supplies. Who knew a drunken encounter in the limo would lead her to this conversation?
"But Adrian was still 'paralyzed' then," Marisol makes air quotes around the word. It was despicable how he pretended to be disabled.
Evelyn simply nods.
"You didn't think it was odd that a paralyzed man could still…." Marisol doesn't finish the sentence, not wanting the mental image that would accompany it.
Evelyn chuckles. "Oh please, you could severe Adrian in half and he would still be able to manage an erection and achieve orgasm."
Marisol cringes at the thought.
"So, you and James are together, but Adrian is the father. How is that working out?" Marisol tries to wrap her mind around this, but she knows Adrian. He isn't going to make this easy.
"Oh," Evelyn begins, her eyes flashing with anger. "The father of my children has managed to postpone our divorce until after the baby is born. He informed me of that this morning." Evelyn's jaw clenches as she remembers the conversation.
"You said you and the baby are healthy. So, everything is all right?" Marisol asks, steering Evelyn away from the topic of Adrian and his antics to something a bit more pleasant.
"Yes," Evelyn smiles, relief washing over face.
Marisol listens as Evelyn tells of the phone call she received from her doctor just the day before, assuring her the blood tests came back fine. The baby suffers from no abnormalities, and so far, she, too, is handling the pregnancy well. Evelyn isn't so sure about that part of the diagnosis since she continues to spend most of her day nauseated, but it is a relief to know there is nothing wrong with her child.
"Were you really going to ask me to pee on a stick?" Evelyn asks a few minutes later, arching a brow at Marisol.
She laughs at the question then explains her thinking. "You tend to deny things you don't want to accept, and if you had a positive pregnancy test in your hand, it would be harder for you to deny." Marisol shrugs; it made sense to her at the time. Now that she is explaining it, she can see the many faults in the plan.
"I denied it with the doctor standing in front of me with results she ran twice." Evelyn shakes her head. She really did not believe she was pregnant even when the doctor said she was. A pharmacy pregnancy test certainly wouldn't have convinced her.
Evelyn enjoys speaking of the pregnancy with someone who allows her to voice her fears and insecurities, while also being excited about the baby. It is something she didn't realize she needed. She still doesn't plan on announcing the pregnancy for a few more weeks, but it is nice to have someone to talk to other than James and Adrian. They both try, even Adrian, but it is different having another woman to discuss these things with. Unfortunately, the moment is short lived as Evelyn remembers why she was rummaging through Marisol's desk drawers. Grant Mercer and his maid issue need to be handled before any more talk of the baby can be had. That miserable old miser ruins everything.
Carmen fears she is about to be fired. She overhead Evelyn earlier this morning complaining about a pair of pants being too tight. The woman then emerged from her room wearing a skirt that used to be loose. No longer is that a word one could use to describe that skirt. Carmen doesn't think she has done anything differently with the laundry.
As she stands in the hallway outside Evelyn's bedroom dusting pictures, more a means of hiding away from the Powells than actually cleaning, she hears a muffled "dammit" come from inside the bedroom. She tenses, remembering Evelyn saying something about trying on gowns for an upcoming event, then quickly heads for the stairs. If she is cleaning the bathrooms, something she despises, maybe Evelyn won't be so quick to fire her.
"Carmen!" Evelyn calls before she can make it to the stairs.
Slowly Carmen turns around, masking her guilt as she looks at Evelyn standing in the doorway. The other woman is stripped down to only a slip, the thin fabric clinging to her waist. Carmen narrows her eyes certain she hasn't washed that article of clothing in at least a week. Maybe the problem isn't how she is doing laundry. Maybe Evelyn is gaining weight.
"Please, come help me!" Evelyn groans, hating to ask for assistance with something as simple as choosing an outfit.
Carmen nods and follows Evelyn into the bedroom. The bedroom is littered with gorgeous, expensive gowns. Every surface is covered in rich fabric, causing Carmen to dread the moment she will have to clean this mess up. If she can't wear these beautiful gowns, she shouldn't have to place them back in the closet.
"I'm having a hard time with this zipper," Evelyn huffs.
Carmen is surprised to see she has already changed into a lovely cobalt blue evening gown. She walks over to Evelyn and begins pulling the zipper. It slides smoothly at first then stops midway. Carmen gives the zipper a tug and it inches upward slightly then stops. She doesn't want to damage the zipper but if she doesn't use a bit more force it isn't going to budge.
"Try again," Evelyn instructs, sucking in her stomach as much as she possibly can. She realizes that even if Carmen does manage to zip the dress, it will be so tight everyone's attention will immediately be drawn to her stomach. The slight swell of her stomach has become very apparent over the past week.
"It's stuck," Carmen informs her, bracing herself for a fit.
"Oh well, I'll try another." Evelyn sighs then reaches for the zipper.
Carmen is taken aback by this rather unexpected reaction but doesn't comment. Instead, she spends the next twenty minutes alternating between watching Evelyn try on dresses and helping her with zippers. Each time she is unable to entirely zip the dresses. Evelyn is beside herself that nothing fits, but Carmen is relieved. It definitely isn't how she is doing to laundry. As she glances at Evelyn in the mirror, she is beginning to suspect there is more to it than just Evelyn gaining weight.
Carmen studies Evelyn as she tries on a long-sleeved, jade green evening gown. It is gorgeous, but it accentuates the barely perceptible rounding of Evelyn's stomach. For the first time Carmen realizes the woman's stomach is no longer flat. It isn't the normal monthly bloating, or even the soft expanding of the waist that comes from gaining a few pounds. This could almost be described as a baby bump. Carmen's eyes widen in horror at the thought of a pregnant Evelyn. Working here is crazy enough, she doesn't want to even entertain the thought of how insane it would be should a baby be added into the mix.
"Carmen, help me!" Evelyn demands, snapping her fingers to gain the woman's attention.
Carmen narrows her eyes at being summoned with a snap of fingers, but doesn't comment. Instead, she pulls on the zipper, unable to get it any further than midway.
"Dammit!" Evelyn whines, flopping back dramatically into the sea of dresses on the bed.
With one hand she covers her face, the other hand she places on the rounding of her stomach. Carmen's eyebrows almost reach her hairline.
"You can go now!" She says miserably, neither hand moving for their resting spots.
"Ok!" Carmen says a bit too happily. She is to the door before she stops and turns back to look at her boss.
"Yes?" Evelyn asks, feeling the woman's eyes on her.
"Don't be upset about gaining a little weight. It happens from time to time. It's probably just water weight," Carmen shrugs, confident this comment will either confirm or deny her suspicion since she can't just ask the woman if she's pregnant.
"I thought you were leaving," Evelyn replies dryly, refusing to rise to the bait.
When she was trying on the dresses, she noticed Carmen's scrutinizing gaze. Her eyes never left Evelyn's stomach. She might have shared the news with Marisol just a week ago, but she isn't ready for more people to know. Besides, if Carmen knows, she will tell others, just like she did about that night in the limo. Evelyn also isn't mentally prepared to Carmen's complaints about how much extra work a baby will entail.
"I'm going," Carmen assures her, heading for the door. It might not have been a reaction she was expecting, but she received her answer. Evasion typically is a sign guilt.