Afters

When the waiter had cleared the empty plates, he offered the diners dessert. Martin, typically, said no but his companions all said yes. Grumpily he sat there with a cup of tea, while the other three emoted over the dessert menu, while the waiter stood in attendance.

He was about to utter to Louisa about excess calories, but before he could speak, she ordered Cornish Clotted Cream Filled Sponge Drops. Martin winced at the thought of extra fats and carbohydrates as well as the sheer lunacy of dessert. He turned to face her, but she gave him a quiet, "Shush."

Helen and Chris ordered something to share called, "New York City Cheesecake."

Martin humphed to himself, especially looking at Parsons' waistline, which even in school days had been paunchy. Now, many years later, he was even more so.

Helen touched Chris's hand and said, "We'll have to take a longer walk tomorrow to work off all this."

"I know, I know, my dearest," Chris replied. He patted his tummy. "Getting bigger over the years, I know. But, Mart you have not changed much at all from our school days."

Louisa laid her hand on Martin's leg under the table and stroked it. "I'd like to hear more about medical school time. Martin never speaks of it."

"What is there to say?" Martin said, trying not to react to her touch. "It was very hard work – four years of it. Lectures, labs, study and exams.

"Oh, God, yes," Chris replied. "And doing rounds in the wards after an all-night call? I'm not the only one who learned to sleep standing up!" He laughed and shook his head. "Hardest four years of our lives, wouldn't you agree?"

Martin nodded. "But my surgery training, twice… well, that was… um, hard work."

Chris smiled. "But you went on didn't you, old boy? General surgery and then vascular. I don't know how you did it, but you were always the smartest one in the room – and driven." He looked at his wife. "Helen can no doubt recall a lot of lonely times during those years, when I was in otolaryngology training."

Helen sighed. "In for a penny, in for a Pound." Then she grimaced. "But I wasn't the only doctor's wife 'widow' was I Chris?"

Chris looked down. "No, I suppose not."

Helen brightened. "But we got through it."

"Thank God that I had Helen to lean on," Chris exclaimed. "And Mart… um, you had your work, mostly."

Louisa heard the word 'mostly' accented. She looked at Martin, who had a look of caution on his face. He showed it when there was something he didn't want to discuss. To change the subject, she said, "Chris… Helen… we, Martin and I… we're… something is going on with us." Suddenly the muscles of Martin's thigh stiffened, but she went on, "We have some news, don't we, Martin?"

Martin sighed. "Um, yes."

"Okay if I tell them?" Louisa asked him. He nodded to her slightly, so she went on, saying, "We have an announcement to make, of sorts."

Chris sat bolt upright. "You're not leaving Portwenn, are you?" This was Chris's fear that Martin would regain his surgical bearings and abandon Cornwall to return to the bright lights and hospitals of London.

Louisa shook her head. "Oh no, nothing like that. It's… well, we're expecting."

Helen smiled, since she already knew the momentous news.

Chris was puzzled. "Expecting? Expecting what?" He picked up his water glass and began to drink from it.

"A baby," Louisa answered.

Chris spluttered and choked, spraying water. "Oh my! Well, that is… cough, quite, um… well… congratulations! That's a real surprise!"

"Thanks," Louisa said. Could have knocked me over with a feather, remembered Louisa. "Early days, but still…"

"Ten weeks," Martin blurted out.

Chris began to say, "Ten weeks… well, that's…" he stopped for he'd just done the mental math. So then, she must have gotten pregnant… he stopped. Before their wedding. Hm. "A surprise then. Congrats again!"

Louisa's hand had crept from Martin's leg to hold her small bump. "Mid-July or thereabouts, our due date."

Helene smiled and turned towards Louisa. "I guessed in the loo, but congratulations again. I'm so happy for you."

Chris stared at Martin. "Well done, mate. I didn't think… that… you'd consider having children. I'm… amazed."

Martin nodded. "We did, we do." Um, we have."

Chris had watched carefully while Martin made his declaration. He had met Martin's parents at med school graduation and immediately sussed out that the pair of them were extremely self-centered and had little regard for their son. Worse, rather than expressing the pride of their son's accomplishment, they had been trivializing of it. His father had been more driven to let all know about his own medical path and prowess, especially saying that he had served his country in the Royal Navy, but Martin (poor sod) had rejected that service. His mother was cold, repellant and more interested in discussing the woman who had dumped their son, and that of course was entirely Martin's fault. The child is father of the man, it is said. Could Martin actually be a father? Biologic procreation is straight forward but being a father; a parent? Become a father?

Chris turned his head towards Helen, and she gave him a look, which said do not say too much. So he kept his mouth shut.

"It's funny, really," Louisa was saying. "As a girl I thought about having kids and living in the village." She paused. "So…" she looked down at her body, where biology, even at that moment, was creating a new person. "I guess that's gonna happen." In three weeks she'd be at the end of the first trimester and by then the fetus would have all the needed organs and system in place, just needed to grow and mature. She had a flash of being nine months pregnant, having gained 30 pounds or so, over two stone, being fat and ungainly, having to wee too often, her baps near to bursting waiting to nurse their child. That would be only 30 weeks away. She bit her lip. Then all the rest; giving birth, nursing, night times of no sleep, a fussy infant, and being driven off her feet. But being a parent – all of it – raising a child from birth through childhood through the teen years, and then what? Seeing them off to uni or trade school? The armed services? Yet she'd done that, in spite of low economic status and expectations. Went to uni, got a good education, returned to her village – her home – and then later she met that man on the plane. That tall rather strange man…

Helen reached over and took Louisa's other hand, resting on the table. "You'll be fine. Head Teacher and the village GP. They'll have a fine start."

"Intellectually," Martin said. "But there can be regression to the mean."

"But Martin," Helen said firmly, "that's statistics and not human nature."

Louisa had turned her head towards her husband, her mouth agape. "Well, we shall do the best we can do, won't we?" she said optimistically.

Martin heard the tenor of her words. "Louisa, I was just saying that having parents of high educational status does not mean that a child will necessarily be of greater or even the same intelligence. Studies have shown…"

"Yes, Martin," she snapped.

This testy exchange was then interrupted by the arrival of their afters – desserts.

Louisa's semi-sad mood changed when she saw the item she ordered. Rounds of sponge were layered with strawberry jam, fresh sliced strawberries and a large dollop of clotted cream plus another sponge round on top. The whole was finished with a drizzle of thickened strawberry juice and confectioner's sugar.

Helen was saying, "I must say that yours looks healthier than this!" She pointed at a gigantic wedge of cheesecake baked in a graham cracker crust then awash in raspberry juice, the thing set squarely between her and her husband.

Chris laughed as he picked up his fork. "That must be 750 to 1000 calories!"

Martin rolled his eyes as he sipped his tea. He watched while the others consumed their after-dinner treats.

"Want a bite?" Louisa offered to him, holding a loaded fork in front of his face.

"No thank you." He checked his watch. It was now full dark and the drive home might take an hour if there was heavy vehicle traffic.

At last the final bite was consumed and the bill delivered to the table. Chris tried to pay for Martin and Louisa's meals, but Martin declined. "No, Chris, you are part of the organization which employs me."

"But I'm not head of the PCT."

"But you are one of the governors," Martin pointed out.

"Fine then," Chris said. He waved the waiter over and directed the man to split the bill.

Helen smirked. "Why do men always have a make tussle over the dinner bill? Part of the mighty hunter complex? They don't have to go hunting and drag the carcass home so now they fight over the receipt?"

Louisa laughed. "This has been fun." She put her hand on Martin's "But we ought to head home."

Martin agreed, rose and helped his wife get into her coat, carefully picking up the parcel bag she had set next to her chair. "What's all this?"

Louisa shrugged. "As I waited for you, I shopped."

"For?"

"Oh, things. Stuff. Presents."

"I see."

Louisa took her husband's arm, who seemed at times like an alien on a visit to this planet. He could be rude and brash, yet she'd found that he could be thoughtful and kind. He just didn't properly see and understand social cues. Their first night together she had drawn him upstairs to her bedroom and the man stood their looking lost. So by peeling him out his suitcoat and tie, unbuttoning his shirt, all the while hugging, kissing and pressing herself against him, he'd lost that scared look and got into the spirit of the thing.

In those next few hours she had learnt a lot about Martin Ellingham. He was strong, yet tender, an excellent lover. He must have had experience in the matter for she had been extremely satisfied. Desire and imagination had met reality, and from that night she was fully invested in the man. Louisa was so very satisfied it was good that Mrs. Willimas, who lived next door, was very deaf or they would have woken the woman with their noisy lovemaking. Louisa had been excited and sated both; wondering at the hidden depths of the man she'd just become engaged to.

Of course, next morning, Dave the Postman, had found them kissing in her doorway as Martin was ready to leave her house. The reality was that she loved Martin and had for a very long time and could not wait until she could be with him again. Then a few weeks later she was both married and pregnant.

Martin stood in the restaurant, suddenly wary of the other diners, the crowded tables and the noise about them.

Chris shook Martin's hand. "Good to see you so happy." He dropped his voice. "Far better than... well, with…"

"Ahem, yes. Right," Martin replied quietly.

Chris smiled at his friend, thinking that Martin must be one lucky man.