3k plus words! Hope you enjoy!
6
*First trimester
Steve and I left the island a couple of days later. Before leaving, Mother took me by the face and looked at me with such sweetness, I felt like I was a child again. We promised her we would be back on the next full moon (August) and we would discuss the birth then. I told Steve I wanted our daughter to be born in Themyscira and he agreed.
"I know you have a high threshold for pain, but I don't know how you'll handle birth and I'd rather you be surrounded by people who can actually help if you came to be in pain."
I shrugged not knowing how I'll react to birth either. We told Mother and she was ecstatic. She told us she would have Epione, Ersa and every single erudite of the island researching to make sure they were ready for when her granddaughter decided to come into the world. Antiope hugged us both with a smile on her face and said to me,
"Continue training. Your power comes from emotion. If you ever doubt yourself, just ask: who am I protecting? Yes?"
I nodded and hugged her again. We got on the boat and rowed until we crossed the rippled barrier. The rest of the trip back was uneventful. Now, as we lie down in our bed watching a random movie on cable with my head resting on Steve's chest and his arm around my shoulders, I finally feel like we got our normal back.
"We're not telling anybody yet, right?" Steve asks me.
"I guess we should wait the traditional three months before telling anyone, but I really want to tell Barbara Ann."
He laughs, "Of course you do. You should tell her tomorrow at work."
"Are you sure? You don't want both of us to tell her?"
"You know? No matter what the news are, she always ends up making a joke about me that I can't quite reply to because it's so smart and I can't even imagine what she's going to come up with now, so I'd rather delay that for a bit if you don't mind."
I laugh, probably a little too hard, at that because it's true. Barbara Ann's mind is so quick, sometimes it's hard to keep up with her.
The next morning, as I get ready for work, I stop for a minute in front of the mirror as I step out of the shower and look at my body. There are no obvious signs that would have told me I'm pregnant. In time, I guess, I would have been able to put two and two together, but it is so strange to know there is a life currently growing inside of me. It's a bit unsettling to be completely honest. Suddenly there's a tiny person who depends on me 24/7 and not just for the next 7 months either, but for years and years to come. I continue on with my routine before I get myself into an undesirable state of anxiety.
"Angel, I'm heading out. You two have a great day." Steve says leaning down to give me a peck while I'm stepping into my heeled black boots.
I smile as my heart melts a little. "We will. Have a great day too."
Steve always leaves for work a little bit earlier than I do since A.R.G.U.S' offices are further away from home, but not by much though. I finish gathering my stuff up and head to work. I feel a little spring in my step as I walk towards the metro. As I usually do on my way to work, I start making a list of all the things I should try to get done for today.
Ask Emilie if Monsieur Lausanne was able to repair the chip on the statue of Cupid. Kids and their selfie sticks. She should also be giving me my invite for the donor's ball. I should definitely get started on the mountain of paper work for the loan of the Vermeer.
I walk down the stairs to the station just as the train I usually take pulls in. I step in and continue with my list. Once I reach my destination, I step out of the train and walk to my favourite café in front of the museum. I realise as I pull the door open that I'm not supposed to have coffee.
Will it affect me like a regular woman though?
I consider turning around and heading right into the museum, as much as it hurts me to not get my cup of black coffee, but Mohammed, the young man who usually takes my order spots me and waves at me. Deciding it would look strange if I just turned around and left, I walk to the counter and ask for something different.
"Bonjour, Diana. Café noir grande, oui?"
I smile at him. "Bonjour, Mohammed. Non, aujord'hui je vais prendre une boisson different."
He looks surprised at me when I tell him I'll have something different today.
"Different? Parfait! Une thé peut-être? Ou une chocolat chaud?"
I feel my mouth start to water at the thought of a hot cup of cocoa. "Une chocolat chaud, s'il vous plaît. Mais petite, pas grande."
He nods. "Bien sûr. 3.50€, s'il vous plaît."
I pull out my wallet and pay for the hot chocolate. Once my name is called I grab my cup of hot cocoa and walk across the street to the Louvre. It's not very often that my mouth waters at the thought of any food or drink, but as soon as the warm brown liquid touches my tongue, I feel like I could float away.
"What are you doing to me?", I ask the baby discreetly.
I guess I should expect cravings from now on.
It has always been my favourite part of getting to work when I step into the museum and there's barely any noise. The doors of the museum open at 9am, so there's a good hour before people start flooding in – although I can already see the lines forming at the entrance. It's almost like a vacuum; the noise of traffic, of people arguing over menial things, everything fades as soon as I step into the building. I've learnt there's an order to the sounds I hear when I get to work.
First, there's nothing. Just my breathing. Then there's the sound of my heels hitting the marble floor. It echoes across the entrance. When I get to security check, I hear the jingle of keys as Leo, the security guard, turns when he hears me coming. Almost simultaneously he says,
"Bonjour, Directrice Prince."
I smile at him. "Bonjour, Leo. Ça va?"
Being director of a department has its privileges, like not needing to X-ray my purse or go through the X-ray machine every day; which turns out benefits me since I'm pregnant and I shouldn't expose myself to that amount of radiation, and, also, they maybe would have figured it out before I was ready to tell people. So that's the next sound I hear – Leo lifting up the chain next to the machine and answering my question with a simple,
"Oui, oui."
Once I cross security, this is where it becomes harder to discern sounds. The cleaning staff are hard at work cleaning every single inch the public will step on, the security staff are walking by each and every single painting making sure the sensors are working as they're supposed to and the floor supervisors are meticulously checking everything is done properly.
I reach the door to the administrative area, pull out my card from my purse and swipe it. The door opens with a click and I go down the stairs. Before, it used to be Emilie who I would see next, always sitting behind her desk already at work when I got there, but since Barbara Ann started working here, as soon as I push the door open I always expect to hear…
"Can you bloody believe these politicians?! Why are they ignoring what we're saying? We. Don't. Want. The. UK. To. Leave. The. European. Union. For heaven's sake!"
… the news that frustrate her the most.
I usually just keep walking to my office and Barbara Ann falls into step with me. She scrolls all the way to the end of the article huffing and puffing. I glance at her and see the reflection of her screen on her glasses. I smile and take a sip of my hot cocoa.
"Isn't it a little early for you to be this annoyed?"
She locks her phone and shoves it quite forcibly into her back pocket. "I'm always annoyed when I read about politics. Might as well do it early in the morning and complain about it all day. That way I can sleep easy."
I smile. "Too bad it's me who has to hear you all day."
"Oh, you love it. Don't deny it. So? What was the diagnosis? Are you transitioning into full god?"
I look at her and smile, taking a sip of my hot cocoa and making a point of letting her know I'm not telling her right this instant.
"What was that on your face?"
I chuckle. "I believe it's called a smile, Barbara Ann."
She rolls her eyes at me. "Why are you playing coy? Just tell me. Are you okay?"
I detect some concern in her tone, so I assure her everything's fine.
"I'm okay. I'll tell you during lunch. It's just… I have a feeling it's going to be a bit of a long conversation and I really have a lot of things to get done today. So, lunch alright?"
Barbara Ann studies me for a second and nods. "Alright. I'll buy lunch. Lasagna?"
"Sounds perfect."
She nods once again and goes to continue with her day. I get to my office and as expected, Emilie is already there.
"Bonjour, Diana."
"Bonjour, Emilie. How's today's schedule?"
She exhales loudly and turns her chair to open the drawers behind her. "Busy day today, I'm afraid. Right here are all the documents you need to sign for the loan of the Vermeer. Legal needs them by the end of the day at the most."
She places a stack of documents on her desk. I sigh inwardly at having to seat in my office for at least a couple of hours doing nothing but reading and signing papers.
"I called Monsieur Lausanne a moment ago, he had scheduled a meeting to show you the repair on the statue, but he was called for an emergency meeting and had to cancel."
"Did he tell you if he was able to repair it?"
"Yes, he did. He wanted to personally show you the repair. He wants to know if you wish to reschedule the appointment or just send you the report?"
I pick up some of the documents and skim through them. "No, it's fine. Monsieur Lausanne's work has been impeccable. I don't see why it should be different this time. Tell him to send me the report."
"I'll let him know." Emilie answers as she types it on her computer.
I frown at one of the documents I'm holding. "Emilie, these are not the conditions of transportation I asked for. The painting will be ruined if it's transported like it says here."
She nods. "Madame Stein insisted that we needed to reduce costs and she changed the temperature regulated truck to a regular one. Her assistant told me she wouldn't hear any complaints about it."
I lift an eyebrow at that. "Get her on the phone, s'il vous plaît."
Brigitte Stein is the financial executive in charge of managing budgeting for the Louvre. She's quite known for being protective of the museum's money, to the point of actually ignoring the advice of the art professionals if she deems them to be too expensive.
Emilie searches for her annex on the computer and dials her office. "Bonjour. I have Directrice Prince for Madame Stein, s'il vous plait."
She puts the call on speaker and puts the receiver down. I continue reading the transportation she's decided it's best for the painting and I have to suppress the need to roll my eyes at every sentence. We might as well tie the painting to the roof of a beetle and hope it gets to the exhibition in one piece.
"Directrice Prince. Good morning. How can I help you?"
"Good morning, Madame Stein. I just read the changes you made regarding the transportation of the Vermeer and I don't think it would safe to transport the painting in those conditions."
"Madame, as I informed the rest of the worried personnel, the painting will be just fine. There's a reason we're transporting it on a Sunday. There's considerably less traffic, therefore the painting will not be in the truck for long. There's no need to be worried about the oils melting. The temperature regulated truck is an unnecessary expenditure."
I gently drop the papers I was holding on top of the stack and look at Emilie with a deadpan look.
"I don't think you have taken into consideration that Sunday is a national holiday. C'est la fête de la victoire. The streets will be flooded with people and we have estimated it will take almost deux heures to get to the exhibition, which is enough time to cause irreparable damage to an invaluable painting. That, I'm afraid, would cost the museum an incredible artistic and financial loss."
I enjoy the silence coming out of the other side of the phone. Emilie gives me a thumbs-up and I smirk.
"Oh, I- I had forgotten about that."
"Not to worry, Madame Stein. That's why we read papers before signing them. I'll have my assistant print the original plans for the painting's transport and have it sent to you in 20 minutes so you can sign them."
"Y-yes. Of course."
"Have a good day."
"You too, Madame Prince."
Emilie picks up the receiver and puts it down just as fast ending the call.
"Have I ever told you you're the greatest boss I've ever had?"
I laugh softly at that. "What else is on today's schedule?"
She lifts up the big pile of documents and places it on the side.
"The donor's ball has been pushed back a week. You need to confirm or decline attendance today. Invitation."
I take the cream coloured invitation with my name written on it with neat cursive writing.
"Do you know why it has been pushed back?" I ask opening the envelope and pulling out the invitation.
I hear Emilie sigh sadly. "It's Monsieur Llodra's son. His cancer came back and he's undergoing chemotherapy. His last session is on the day the ball was scheduled to be held. Monsieur Llodra called the président of the boardand asked him if the ball could be rescheduled because his son was very much looking forward to it. And since Monsieur Llodra is one of the most generous donors the Louvre has, they agreed."
"Oh, that's terrible."
I've met them both and they are very grounded and kind people. I don't know much about them other than Thomas Llodra is a doctor and his son Lucas is a historian.
"Oui, terrible things always happen to the people who least deserve it." Emilie says.
Don't I know it.
"Well," I put my cup of hot cocoa on the desk and grab all the documents, making sure to secure any loose papers in place. "I'll be in my office. Barbara Ann is bringing lunch today. Just let her in."
"Oui, Diana."
I grab my hot cocoa and climb the stairs down to my office and immediately start reading the documents. I read and sign, and sign and read until my eyes feel heavy. At one point, I pull out mi iPad to check my emails and see I've gotten the report from Monsieur Lausanne. I read it and click on the photos he has sent me. I zoom in on them and I can barely see the faint line where the broken piece was reattached. I smile and nod. I type a quick reply to him congratulating him on his work. I continue reading the documents for the loan of the Vermeer and not too long after, Emilie comes down the stairs with the revised copy of the transportation parameters with Madame Stein's signature on it. I sign it and with that, I am officially done with that subject. Emilie takes the stack to legal.
I continue with my duties until I hear Barbara Ann come down the stairs with a paper bag on hand. I immediately smell the parmesan cheese.
"La principessa è qui!"
I stop typing and look up at her. "But I'm the actual principessa here."
"You know what, Diana? I brought you lasagna. So I get to be the princess right now. Yeah?"
I block the screen of my iPad and raise my hands in surrender.
"Fine. But just because you brought lasagna."
Barbara Ann places the paper bag on my desk and pulls out two aluminum containers and places it on my desk.
"There's bolognesa and pesto. Choose as your heart desires."
I grab the pesto one and Barbara Ann passes me a fork.
"How's the family?"
I stab a piece of lasagna and try it. My eyes close as I let the cheesiness of it all engulf my senses.
"They're good. This is amazing. Where did you get it?"
I have another bite and look up at her. She's frowning at me.
"Since when do you get these excited about food? A little family owned restaurant in rue d'antin."
I stop shoveling food into my mouth and decide this is a good a time as any to tell her before she realises and starts connecting the dots.
"Okay, so, I'm not sick."
"That's good,"
I nod. "I'm going to tell you but don't scream or be, you know, loud."
She looks even more confused at me. "God, woman. Okay. Can you just tell me?"
"I'm pregnant."
"WHAT?! OH MY GOD!", Barbara Ann screams as she stands up, her chair scraping the floor loudly.
"Shhhhh. I just told you to not be loud."
"ARE YOU SERIOUS? YOU'RE PREG-"
I stand up. "Barbara Ann, shhhh! You're the first person I'm telling. No one else knows and Steve and I would like to keep it that way for a little while."
She covers her mouth with both hands. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh, my God, Di! You're pregnant. That's mental!" This time she whispers it.
"I know. It's unreal, but it's also amazing and petrifying all at once."
Barbara Ann looks at me for a few seconds. Her eyes are suspiciously shiny.
"Di, congratulations."
She takes a few steps forward and envelops me in a hug so genuine, I almost feel like crying.
"Who knew Trevy got it in him? How did he take it?""
I huff out a laugh. That sounds more like the Barbara Ann I know.
"As well as I did. We were both incredibly shocked."
She breaks off the hug and pulls out her cellphone and starts typing.
"What are you doing?" I ask her with a laugh.
"I'm texting Steve."
I look skyward for a second. "What are you telling him now?"
"He can tell you later. Oh, man. I'm proud of this one." She laughs and shoves her cellphone in her back pocket.
Sorry, Steve. Seems like Barbara Ann still got you.
AN:
I promise to keep trying to update on Mondays (even if it's a little later than usual). Drop a comment if you'd like!
