Secret

Neither Martin nor Louisa slept very well that night; the night of their momentous news. It was earth shaking for any number of reasons. Partly it was the realization that a new thing had started, and one that they had unwittingly yet also had been willingly engaged in. Each of them, lying awake in the dimness of their bedroom, had mulled both the news and the import of it over and over.

Never again would they be just a couple, instead would be known as parents, at least by next July. Louisa was chewing her lip, her head resting on her pillow. Me? she thought. Pregnant? But all she had to do was to think that Martin was correct, as he was in nearly all things medical. The timing was right, her symptoms were spot on for such a diagnosis and yes, she had quite energetically made love to Martin THAT night. Perhaps dealing with the near death and lifesaving of her friend had made their coupling all the more… more… mortal? Plus, it went without saying that she had loved Martin for a very, very long time. One hand rested on her left breast and through her pajama top she could easily feel her heart beat. Lub, dub, lub, dub. On and on, and oh how Martin had been right here – lodged in her romantic heartstrings for such a long time.

Martin felt every toss and turn of his wife, yet he lay quite still next to her, trying not to touch her body. They'd gone to bed late, tense and upset, only speaking in clipped tones as they tried to process the news. Their simple meal of broiled chicken, brown rice, green salad and green beans had been eaten in silence, just like always. But… but… if they looked at the other, their eyes had slid away. A pregnancy which was unplanned and nearly undiscussed was all they could think of. Just a week and three days after their wedding and that simple monoclonal test with it's so factual 'plus sign' had thrown a wrench into their lives.

From that moment Martin began to worry about fatherhood and parenthood in general. His mother and father were not sterling examples in that area, and he mused, was he father material? Oh, not the biological point for clearly one of his sperms impregnating one of Lousia's eggs was mere biological action. Given proper care and nutrition a healthy specimen – woman he corrected himself – ought to be capable of carrying a child to term and giving birth. No, it was the raising part which concerned him most of all. What happens after the birth?

Sometime around two PM Lousia rose and went to the loo. The bathroom floor was very cold on her bare feet, and the water from the sink was also cold. Winter's coming, Louisa, she thought. Going to need warmer night things. So, on returning to bed, she cuddled next to Martin who jumped as her cold extremities hit his body. "Sorry, Martin," she muttered.

He slid one hand under her hip and put his free arm around her waist, pulling her close. "It's all right," he whispered.

"You awake?" she asked.

He sighed. "Unfortunately."

She kissed his cheek. "I woke you," she said.

"No." He could just see her face in the dimness. "I haven't been asleep at all."

She lifted her head and tossed it to get hair out of her eyes. "Me neither." A long pause. "Pregnant. A baby," she said softly. "Oh my God."

God likely had little to do with it, Martin thought. "It's what happens when a spermatozoon meets a human ovum."

Lousia sighed at him then said, "I did, do want children, with you, Martin it's just rather…" she shrugged.

"Sudden."

"Maybe it was the candles," she suggested.

"Candles?"

"I lit candles our first night."

"Ah, yes. I remember."

"The tall red ones." She yawned as an idea formed in her mind. "So, Martin I'm awake and you're awake…" she lifted her torso and neck to peer at the alarm clock. "And it's just after two in the morning." A slim leg lifted to rest itself over his more muscular one, as she kissed his mouth, while arms, hip, knee and ankle joints worked together to clamp his pelvis against hers.

Martin returned her kiss. "Louisa… its late, or early."

"Shhh," she told him as one hand moved to unbutton his pajama top.

"Louisa, uhm… we need to get some sleep."

She was pulling his shirt open. "Shhh. We will, later," she told him.

Martin started to get the idea of her actions, but held back. "I have patients and you have school."

Lousia kissed him deeply. "I know." Then she began to stroke the hair on the back of his head.

"And… ahm… you're pregnant," he said with a gulp.

"Martin, I'm pregnant but I'm not sick."

"But you may be uncomfortable… when we…" he said, always shy discussing things like this. "I'd not want to hurt you or our child."

Louisa nearly laughed. "It'll be fine."

"But…"

"Martin, you have been making love to a pregnant woman the past few weeks and you just didn't know it, okay?"

Martin knew she was correct. "I see."

"So…" she rubbed his back.

Martin realized that what was to happen next was almost like peace making. They'd not been angry this evening, just dismayed; trying to come to grips with this new reality. So, why not help her and himself establish a new dynamic? Dynamic seemed to be the operative idea in his mind and although his baser male instincts wanted to ravish her quickly, he moved slowly and carefully and used utmost care until she was yelling his name in need.

Their joint concerns and needs were met, each taking solace with and giving love to the other. And besides, they'd made a baby so why not attempt to repeat the pleasurable process?

Later, Lousia thought it good that the cottage walls were of thick construction, or they'd have scared the neighbors, for as they say you can't make a pregnant woman pregnant, but there was no doubt that both of them tried to repeat the action and loudly.

=0=0=0=

Pauline arrived at surgery the next morning to find a rather sleepy Louisa still in the surgery and still seated in the kitchen eating breakfast. "Morning, Lousia," she said cheerily.

Louisa was stuffing the last of her toast and egg into her mouth in a rush and had no time for any chit chat, so she just waved. She checked her watch and saw she'd be late for the pre-school staff meeting. The meeting would not be long, just fifteen minutes to review next month's Holiday events and play, confirm that all the plans well under way, but best for the Head Teacher to be on time.

Pauline noticed that Lousia had no tea cup by her plate, and no glass for orange juice either, only a large glass of water. She turned when she heard Martin rushing in from his exam room with his tie askew, quite unlike any previous morning. He was also carrying a polythene sack with the surgery refuse in it. He had been carrying it with the top open, staring into it, but when he saw her, he quickly pulled the sack closed.

She cranked her head from her boss to his wife. "Oh, you two," she said with a knowing smile.

"What do you mean?" Martin asked, suddenly on full nervous alert.

"You two," she said, pointing to each of them.

Louisa ducked her head, for she felt a blush coming on.

"Married and all," Pauline added. "Makes sense you two would be burning the midnight… oil," she teased. "Oh, like two teenage lovebirds."

"We are not!" snapped Martin.

Pauline held up both hands in surrender. "Okay, sure, fine. Right." No Romeo and Juliet? Or Anthony and Cleopatra. Maybe Grace Kelly and Prince Ranier? Hm, she thought. But from the way in which Martin stood ramrod straight he was hiding something. She turned and took a good look at Louisa. Kinda normal but she seemed nervous, or distracted, but what had happened yesterday? "Louisa," she asked, "how're you feeling today?"

Louisa wiped her mouth with her napkin, then felt her stomach do a flip. "Okay." Maybe bolting down her breakfast was a bad idea. She got up, and tried to brush past the inquisitive girl, who moved to block her way.

Pauline smiled at her. "Seems to reason with all the hullabaloo of the weeding you'd be a might unsettled. I was reading an article the other day said that brides can get sick with all the adjustments," she told Lousia. "Irritability, lack of sleep, loss of appetite…" then she pointedly looked at the breakfast table, "even nausea… vomiting."

Louisa had to clamp her mouth closed for things were happening down below. Her stomach was restless, unnaturally.

Pauline smiled sweetly after delivering her list of post-wedding ailments. "Maybe that explains it?"

Lousia cleared her throat, reached for her water glass, and took a sip. "Must go."

"Sure, school, the job, all that," Pauline answered.

Louisa went upstairs and cleaned her teeth with a minimum amount of toothpaste, brushed her hair, then applied her lipstick. "Okay, Lousia, so far so good. Now to just get out of the house before Pauline digs the truth out of you." She squared her shoulders, inspecting herself in the mirror. Looking okay, only a little pale in the face and slightly bloodshot eyes, but maybe pregnancy explained one (as well as the funny feeling tummy) the other from only four hours of sleep. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror for a few moments, looking at her front and then side profile. Nothing to be seen yet. So far so good. She sighed, for soon enough things would change for the whole village to see.

Meanwhile Martin had firmly tied up the sack filled with the contents of the surgery bin. As he had been carrying it, just before Pauline appeared, he noticed the box which had held the pregnancy test kit. The small pink and white box would be dead giveaway that something was going on.

He and Lousia had agreed to keep their condition a secret for a few weeks, such as the end of the first trimester. But they both knew that keeping any secret in the village was a tightrope walk over a chasm of nosy parkers and busybodies.

When Lousia walked back into the kitchen to get her lunch, she could not help but cast a very romantic and almost weepy expression at the way of her husband fastidiously dealt with the breakfast dishes. Oh Martin, you are such a bag of contradictions. Rude and gruff in public, yet behind closed doors you sometimes act like a scared little boy. But wrapped in her arms he could be loving and tender, and not at all afraid to exercise his manhood with her, having nearly loved her to death in the wee hours.

She smiled at his broad back as his tall frame stood at the kitchen sink, scaping dishes. Oh, Martin, I do love you; that was no secret, so in full view of Pauline, she crossed the room, spun her husband around and kissed him full on the mouth.