Changes
Louisa trudged home and snuck inside through the kitchen door, desperate to not be seen by Martin's patients. She was not feeling up to answering, or dodging, any more questions from village busybodies and gossips. She carefully set her hobo bag stuffed with school papers and her laptop onto the table along with her handbag. She grinned when she ran her fingers over the smooth wooden table top. Would she actually have attempted to drag Martin onto the sheets that boozy night? She bit her lip. Yes, she realized, she would have tried to, but for him passing out.
Oh well, despite that ill start now they were married. She stared at the wedding ring on her finger. The stones were large, but still nice, a family heirloom, at least from his side of the family. She had no doubt that her mom or dad would have sold any such jewelry if it came their way. Her mother's ring was just a plain gold band, and this ring was not what she would have chosen, but Martin was pleased to offer her his grandmother's ring. Something smaller and less ornate would have suited Louisa just fine.
That made her think about the secret her parents had held, but for the one time when they slipped up. They'd claimed they'd married in January, but the official date (Louisa had looked it up as an adult) was three months later. So, in truth her mum was preggers well before the banns were read. Louisa's birth in October was only 6 months after her parents stated anniversary date. She shook her head at the idea. What did it matter anyway? At least her mum and dad stayed together, although it was for a fractious 11 years.
She opened the fridge, took out the orange juice bottle and poured herself a small glass, but when she raised it to her lips the smell was revolting. She took a second whiff and once more the smell was horrid. She poured her glass contents down the drain followed by the rest of the bottle and the splashing of the orange liquid made the stink even worse than before. Must have gone off in the refrigerator over the weekend she thought. Abruptly she felt very, very sick, so she bolted round the corner to the staircase, trying to act invisible in front of the patients who gave her startled looks. There was no way to avoid the noise as she bolted upward and got to the loo, slamming the door behind her, flipping on the water over the sink and then she had to spew into the toilet. The remains of her semi-digested lunch were evident, and both the smell and sight made her bring up even more. What's going on, she wondered?
After a few more heaves the urge to bring up more had passed. She took a little water to wash out her mouth and throat to cut both the taste and acid burning and then she was done. At least she hadn't drunk any of that juice.
"Lousia?" she heard through the door. It was Pauline, asking in a worried tone as she tapped on the wood.
"Yeah… I'm…fine," she answered. Then she flushed the toilet and washed her hands and face.
"Doc!" Pauline shouted. "Louisa's being sick!"
Oh God, now he'll make a big deal out of it. She opened the door to see Pauline's concerned face. "I'm fine."
"But, Louisa, I heard you being sick in there."
"I'm fine," she lied for her stomach was feeling very unsteady.
But next Martin came rushing up the stairs and of course he went into full doctor mode. "Lousia! Are you ill?" He placed the back of his hand on her forehead to check her temperature, then peered into one eye, pulling down her lower eyelid. "Hm. No fever," he mused. "What have you eaten?"
"I'm fine, Martin," she repeated. "Must have been the juice in the fridge. It went off… I think. Spoiled." She wrinkled her nose. "It smelled funny… to me at least."
Martin looked at her closely. "Ahm, perhaps you should rest."
Louisa squeezed between Martin and his secretary. "I shall," she said as she headed to their bedroom. "That's why I came home early. I feel very…" she sighed again. "Tired is all." She went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. As she took off her shoes to lie down, she heard Martin and Pauline have a short conversation in the hallway outside.
Footsteps clumped down to the ground floor and then she heard a of muttering and complaining, followed by the opening and closing of the front door. Finally, she recognized Martin's heavy tread when he walked up again. He opened the door and looked in with a concerned expression.
Lousia rolled her eyes. "Now, don't you start your doctor thing with me." She reclined on her side of their bed, as she plumped her pillows.
He lowered his head as he walked towards her. "I'm concerned is all. Something…"
"Look, Martin! I'm tired, got it?"
He held his hands up in surrender and his face went blank. "I have sent the patients away and sent Pauline home."
"Martin, it's only," she began, "It's me, I'm tired… something about not much sleep, you know?" She waved him towards her so he came near.
He gingerly sat on the bed, next to her. "Louisa… you look pale. Perhaps you've picked up a bug?"
"Like a parasite from our wedding dinner?" she snapped. "I know you don't trust food other people prepare."
He cleared his throat. "Such things – buffet tables – can be hotbeds of bacteria due to lack of refrigeration and being exposed to the air for long periods."
She shook her head. "You really do see the world as a dangerous place, don't you?"
"Such as your father's and his deranged friend arranging to aquire explosives?"
She dropped her head. "God, Martin that was a year ago."
"Thirteen months."
Louisa sighed. "You think about time all the time, don't you? That why you rebuild clocks?"
"I…" Martin did not know how to answer. "I also work on barometers."
That made Lousia laugh, so she took his hand and pulled it up to her face to kiss it, but winced when she pulled her arm against her chest.
"What's wrong? Your chest is sore?" Martin asked.
Louisa nodded. "Little bit."
"Let me see, I mean… ahem, I should examine you." He ducked his head.
Louisa sat up to put her arms around him. "No need to be… afraid to do so." He certainly had not been embarrassed one bit last night when they were together.
"Not usual for a doctor to treat a family member," he said. "Unethical."
Louisa demonstrably craned her neck to peer at the window then turned back to him with a grin. "I don't see any other handy GP in the village, do you?"
Martin carefully escorted his wife down to surgery for a quick exam. Louisa dutifully sat on the exam couch, while he took her temperature, blood pressure and heart rate, and checked her lung sounds. "All normal," he grunted. "Toileting?"
She squirmed. "Fine," she said. "But I have noticed I have to use the loo more."
Martin looked hard at her. "And when was your last period?"
Louisa looked away, thinking hard. "Well, um, my calendar is back at my house."
Martin frowned. "I'd think you'd know approximately…"
"Well, I… let me think."
Martin frowned. "Some idea?"
Louisa was not used to this sort of discussion with Martin. "Back in October, certainly."
"Unbutton your blouse and loosen your bra, and please lie back. I'll do a breast exam."
Louisa grinned. Well, this is different, she thought. Such actions between them, and in his examination room, had never happened.
Martin, cued by her reluctance, said, "You… said that your… ahm, chest was sore. I should examine you… them… your…" his hand waved in the general direction of her breasts.
"Yes, Martin," Louisa answered as she began to unbutton her top.
Martin sat there stoically until she'd undone her clothing. The first thing he noticed after looking under her bra was that her nipples were very pink; pinker than he seemed to recall from a few weeks ago – when they'd become both engaged and had been intimate for the first time. It had still been daylight so the sight of her torso had become hard to forget. Since then, any romance had been at night and with the lights off. "Those sore?" he asked, pointing to them.
"Yeah. Likely just hormones."
Secondly, her breasts were larger – swollen actually - and blue-tinted veins were more visible under her pale skin. "May I?" he asked.
Louisa nodded. "Okay."
He gingerly examined the margins and the centers, not finding any masses anywhere, while Louisa tried to examine the ceiling and act like a patient and not a wife.
"Hm," he said.
"See anything? I mean… anything out of order?" she asked.
Martin cleared his throat while he was forming a hypothesis. "I'll palpate your abdomen, if I may."
"Okay."
Martin tugged at her elastic waistband with no success. Irritated, he mumbled, "Uhm, can you pull the top of your trousers down?"
She did as directed then he palpated from her ribs down to her groin. "Ah," he said after a minute.
"Ah, as in 'ah, I have found something?' or 'ah, I don't know what I'm doing?'" she asked. Or 'ah, I am enjoying playing doctor?' she almost added, but that would make him panic. Such up close and personal moments were awkward for her husband when the lights were on.
He cleared his throat twice then stared at her. "Get dressed and I need a urine sample."
"Ooh, science," she said. "Apply chemistry to the solution of the problem," she quipped.
Martin took a deep breath to answer, but turned away to get a sample container from the supply cabinet. "Wash your hands before and after, and don't spill any when you cap it."
"What's this for?" Louisa asked. "Martin, what's in that big head of yours? You must have some idea, or am I just fine and tired and only spewed up half my lunch because I smelled spoiled orange juice?"
It all made sense to Martin and the test would only confirm what he already suspected. "Sample," he said as he gave her the bottle.
Grinning, Lousia left the room and entered the ground floor loo. She looked around the tiny room thinking it could do with a fresh coat of paint, a new light fixture. As she sat on the toilet, she realized a new toilet seat was another item to be replaced.
She capped the sample carefully, wrapped it in a paper towel and washed her hands. When she returned to the exam room, Martin was sitting behind his desk, looking rather concerned. "Martin?" she asked.
"Right," he answered. Taking the sample from her he looked carefully at his wife. Fatigue, nausea, amenorrhea, and newly married, he was thinking. The lack of fundal height was another finding although it was negative. The sample was warm in his hand, much like the warmth of his wife's skin when he'd examined her.
"I'll just test this," he told her.
Louisa smiled.
He moved to the counter by the sink, washed his hands, then pulled the test materials out, laying them on the counter top. Tests for sugar, albumin and… the third test.
Louisa came over to look around him. "Can I watch?"
Startled, he snatched up the third test and held it in his hand, trying to hide it.
"What's that" she asked.
"Nothing."
"Can't be nothing, Martin. Has to be something."
He stopped himself, before he said anything.
"Am I actually sick, Martin?" she asked her, voice quivering. "Tell me."
Martin took a deep breath, then opened his fist to show what he held.
Louisa was surprised at what he had concealed. "What's that? Is that a… a…" she read the word 'Early Pregnancy Test," the words molded into it. "You don't think? Do you?"
Not saying anything, Martin put the test on the counter, took up an eyedropper, and applied drops of urine to the chemical tests.
Lousia was silent but her mind was whirling. Can't be, can I? she wondered. Might be… her lip sprang between her teeth. I have felt a little out of sorts and my breasts have been sore and I cannot recall when my last period was. Three weeks or longer, but the last few weeks have been such a whirlwind. She grabbed Martin's elbow. "But we… we've been careful… used…" She turned and slowly sank back on the visitor chair, pressed her hands together.
Martin was peering at his watch. "Time," he announced after three minutes and then he looked at the tests. Sugar was normal along with albumin and the third… well. He carefully picked up the last one, then carried it to his desk and put it down on top of a notepad, then turned it so Louisa could see it.
He cleared his throat as she ducked her head to look at it, then sat down to face her.
Louisa looked hard at it. There was a display window and she stared at what it showed. She slowly lifted her head to look at Martin. "Oh my, this says… it's a plus sign Martin."
His soulful eyes looked into hers. "Yes."
In a shaking voice she asked, "And that means?" she asked but she knew full well what it meant.
He sat a little straighter. "This test confirms what my examination led me to conclude. Louisa, you're pregnant."
Louisa's lip sprang straight between her teeth in nervousness. "Oh," she said. She looked at her husband and his face was now completely blank.