42
This evening in the nursery was like something out of a magazine advertisement. Curtains drawn against the early November night. Warm light from the small fire in the grate and the lamps on the bureau. All of the children freshly washed and in clean white nightgowns. The covers on three small beds already turned down, comfortable and inviting.
Victoria sat on the edge of Catherine's bed with the girls gathered about her. Each of them had a small hand on her enormous belly and looks of concentration on their faces. Victoria smiled at them, her eyes soft and serene. Beatific, almost. Victor watched them from his seat in the low armchair by the fireplace, the book he'd just read from still on his lap.
Looking at the four of them—well, four and a half—made his chest feel full and warm. Achy but in the nicest possible way. At times like this he couldn't quite believe that this was his life. How lucky he was. How lovely they were.
"Oh!" squealed Catherine excitedly. "There he is, I felt it!" She beamed up at her mother.
"He's kicking," added Liddie, fascinated and pleased. She leaned in closer. "He's very strong!"
"It feels like he's swimming," said Anne. "Like a fish."
All three of them had recently decided that the baby was a boy. That it simply made sense to have a brother after so long with only sisters. They ignored any suggestion that the baby might be another girl. Who knew, perhaps they were right.
"When will he get here?" Catherine asked, her face close to Victoria's belly. Victoria stroked her hair.
"Soon, I think," she said. She put her own palm to her belly. "A few weeks, perhaps."
"How will he get out?" Lydia asked.
Victoria and Victor shared a stricken sort of look over the children's heads. They'd not discussed what they would do should this question come up. Remarkably, none of the children had asked how the baby had gotten in. The two of them had been waiting months for that one but it never arose. They'd worked out an entire explanation about swallowing a special seed and some other nonsense they hoped to never be called out on. They had nothing planned for this question. Victor gave a tiny, useless shrug.
"The doctor will come and bring the baby," Victoria replied easily.
Lydia gazed at her, unsatisfied. She'd just turned eight and was becoming more practical- and mechanical-minded by the day. She liked to know precisely how things worked. Victor knew she wouldn't be put off by vague answers. He shifted in his chair and pretended to look through the book of fairy tales on his lap.
"How will the doctor know when to come?" Lydia asked.
"I shall call him to the house," Victoria told her. "When the time comes."
"How do you know when the time comes?"
"I simply do."
"Ooh, that was a big one, what a strong foot!" Catherine crooned to her mother's stomach. "Are you ready to come out now?"
"Goodness, I hope not," Victoria said under her breath. Victor coughed to cover a snort of laughter.
"How will the doctor get the baby out?" Lydia asked slowly and firmly, not to be deterred.
Victor looked up and saw the way Victoria's jaw was tightening. She did not like it when Liddie refused to take a hint. Liddie did not like to be put off. The two of them tended to butt heads. Victor rose and set the book on the chair, and went to sit on the end of Catherine's bed.
"You know the gutting machine at the cannery?" he asked. Everyone looked at him. Only Liddie nodded. "Something like that. The doctor has a little one in his bag."
He watched as his wife's and daughters' faces twisted in horror. "Victor," Victoria scolded.
"No, no, no, it's specially made," he assured them. "Especially for extracting babies. So not gutting, not at all. Extracting."
"Doesn't that hurt?" Catherine asked, her eyes huge as she looked back and forth between Victoria's belly and her face.
"Not a bit!" Victor said breezily. Now it was Victoria's turn to snort. "Medical science is amazing."
"I don't think you're telling the truth," Liddie accused with slightly narrowed eyes.
He shrugged. "You can't prove I'm not," he replied, as though he were also eight years old. "I've seen it three times, remember."
"Mother, is he telling the truth?" Lydia asked. Victoria suddenly looked exhausted.
"I think we've talked about this enough for this evening," she said. She made to stand, and Victor helped her up. "Bedtime, children."
Wisely, Lydia let it drop, but she was clearly thinking hard as she climbed into bed. Her sisters followed suit. There were kisses and wishing sweet dreams, and Victor put out the lamps.
"A miniature gutting machine?" Victoria asked in a low voice when they were out in the hallway. She put two protective hands on her belly and looked up at him incredulously. "That was the best you could do?"
"An extractor machine," he told her. He laid his hands on her belly, too. "Completely painless!"
A swift, hard kick in the palm from the baby was his reward for that one. He looked into Victoria's face as he felt the baby wriggling about inside her. "I wish it were that easy," he said sincerely.
"So do I," she agreed, sighing deeply. She gave his hands a gentle caress and then turned to go into their own bedroom.
"You're not...you're not upset with me, are you?" he asked. In the doorway she stopped and looked back at him. Her eyes were still soft and there was the merest hint of a grin around her mouth, which was reassuring.
"No," she said. "But I imagine the children will have some questions for you tomorrow. I hope you'll have good answers."
Victoria disappeared into the bedroom. Victor hung about in the hallway, missing the soft glowing mood of earlier. Those moments were so fleeting, those tiny perfect ones. Always perfect until someone brings up a gutting machine. He hoped he hadn't scarred them for life. Quietly, he eased open the nursery door and poked his head in. He just wanted to hear them breathing.
Just as he was about to close the door again, Liddie whispered to him.
"I think he takes out the baby like an appendix," she said. "The doctor does."
"Go to sleep, Lydia," he whispered gently.
"I'm right, though, aren't I?"
"Yes," he told her. "You guessed it."
He watched her smile in the light coming in from the hallway, then turn over with the blankets over her head. Quickly he shut the door before anyone else could wake. It wouldn't do to delay their bedtime with more questions. Besides, he needed some time to get his story straight. Grinning, he made for his own room.