Part 15 (1/2)
There was a stunned silence as the rest of the patients stopped whatever they'd been doing to scan the room for the six-foot tennis player. Vivi winced as she slipped her sungla.s.ses back on and stood. She could feel every eye in the place on her as she crossed the room. Clearly, she was going to have to do a little better in the alias department if she wanted to remain incognito.
”Have you felt the baby move yet?” Dr. Gilbert's hands were warm and gentle on the taut skin of Vivien's stomach.
She nodded her head as he probed gently; she still started with surprise every time she felt what had to be a kick or a jab.
”Here's the top of your uterus,” he said kneading a spot just above her belly b.u.t.ton. ”The baby's about one and a half pounds now. He's definitely outgrown the fruit references, though your stomach will hit that watermelon stage along the way.”
Vivien smiled at his teasing tone.
”Any swelling?” he asked as he pulled the band of her underpants back into place and pulled the gown closed in front.
She shook her head again, figuring the swelling of her stomach went without saying.
”All your vitals look good,” he said as he helped her sit up. ”How are you feeling?”
”You mean other than the constipation, heartburn, and gas? And the fact that I can't seem to keep a thought in my head for more than five minutes at a time?”
”That's standard operating procedure,” he said. ”Most of your brain cells will come back after you give birth. Or at least once the baby starts sleeping through the night.”
”And how long is that likely to take?” she asked.
”It depends. Every situation, like every baby, is different. But I'd say somewhere between a couple of months and a couple of years.”
Vivien blinked. ”Years?”
He shrugged. ”It's not the norm, but it happens.”
”This is one of those small details that I think women should be made aware of before they get pregnant.”
”If there was full disclosure, I'd be out of business.” Dr. Gilbert smiled at her, but he didn't sound too worried. He paused a moment, then nodded toward the chair where her clothes lay folded. ”My a.s.sistant mentioned that you were, um, hiding behind a trench coat and dark gla.s.ses when you arrived. And that you signed in as Venus Williams.” He cleared his throat. ”Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Vivien blushed. She'd felt like an imbecile sneaking into the office in her ”disguise” and, of course, the alias she'd chosen had been ill-advised. But the last thing she needed was for Matt Glazer to figure out which doctor she'd been visiting and why.
”No, I, um. . . .” She closed her eyes for a moment but couldn't come up with a lie that was remotely convincing. ”I haven't told anyone about my pregnancy yet, and I just didn't want word to get out until I was ready.”
He nodded. ”Well, of course that's your business. But I'm not sure how much longer you're going to be able to keep it a secret,” he said. ”You're carrying small, but your shape is definitely changing. And you're going to get a lot bigger before it's all over.”
He smiled and signed off on the paperwork he held in his hands. ”I will promise you that my people know better than to give out information about our patients. You can be a.s.sured of that.”
After the doctor had left, Vivien put on her trench coat and dark gla.s.ses and pulled the hat low on her head. Although it was hard to see with her shades on, Vivien managed to pay for the visit and schedule her next checkup as well as an ultrasound at the checkout desk. Then she walked quickly through the waiting room, which was still packed with bellies of all sizes, with her head down and her face averted.
Once again, she felt slightly ridiculous but while she had no doubt that Dr. Gilbert believed in his staff's discretion, she also knew Matt Glazer. His first piece about her had stirred up all kinds of attention. He was unlikely to drop something that had struck that loud a chord.
As it turned out, Dr. Gilbert was right about the difficulty of keeping her pregnancy a secret. That very afternoon Vivien was dressing, or rather trying to figure out what on earth she could squeeze into that would see her through decorating the ballroom as well as tonight's cla.s.s, when Melanie rapped lightly on her bedroom door and entered, catching Vivi studying herself unhappily in the dresser mirror.
”Looks like I unearthed these just in time.” Melanie held up a short stack of clothing, which she placed on the bed.
”I hope they're extra larges,” Vivien said as Melanie came to stand beside her, both of them now studying Vivien's reflection in the mirror. The gap in the black pants had stretched well beyond safety pin range and the camisole was so tight that it made her already sensitive b.r.e.a.s.t.s hurt. And there was, of course, the fact that she couldn't actually breathe.
”Oh, they are,” Melanie smiled as she plopped down on the foot of the bed. ”What are you now, around the end of your fifth month?”
Vivien stared at her sister's smiling reflection in the mirror while she tried to think what to say. A denial sprang to her lips.
”Don't bother denying it, Vivi,” Melanie said. ”I've been pregnant three times and given birth twice. Your stomach hasn't popped all the way, but the signs are pretty hard to miss.”
Vivien dropped down onto the bed beside her sister. ”How long have you known?”
Melanie shrugged. ”A while. Honestly, if I hadn't been so blown away by your coming to stay and my life in general, I probably would have known the first time I watched you eat.” She laughed. ”The b.o.o.bs are a dead giveaway. And so is the stomach, kiddo.”
”And here I thought I had everyone but Evangeline fooled.”
”I saw her torturing you on Thanksgiving.” Melanie laughed again. ”I thought you were going to choke on all those vegetables.”
”Worst Thanksgiving ever,” Vivien acknowledged. ”I didn't even get a piece of pumpkin pie.”
”I carried a lot bigger than you when I was pregnant,” Melanie said. ”I just sort of . . . inflated. I used to envy those women who stayed the same except for a little pouch of a stomach.” She smoothed a hand over the stack of clothes. ”I kind of liked having b.o.o.bs, though. I really hated to give those up.”
Vivien sighed. ”Are you kidding? I feel like they're alive; they've taken over everything.”
”Just wait until you start nursing and you feel them fill up with milk.” Melanie's sigh was a happy one. ”I loved nursing Shelby and Trip. I felt so . . . necessary. In those early months you are absolutely all they need.”
”I don't know,” Vivien said. ”I never pictured myself as a milk dispenser, though I am feeling pretty cowlike.” She paused. ”Or as a mother, really.”
”How does Stone feel about it? It must be so hard for him to be away.”
Vivien took the top piece of clothing from the stack Melanie had brought. It was a pair of khaki pants with an elastic waist and stretch fabric at the stomach.
”Is he upset? Unhappy about you being pregnant?”
Vivien refolded the pants and reached for the next item. It was a black knit top with three-quarter sleeves and a generous pleat down the front. There were black knit pants to match.
”Because it takes two people to make a baby, you know. It's not like you got pregnant all by yourself. Why he should . . .”
Vivien kept her gaze on the clothes, trying not to think about Stone and really not wanting to talk about him. There was a pair of jeans and a white long-sleeved oxford s.h.i.+rt that looked tailored but had generous panels on the sides. The last items didn't seem to belong with the others. The first was a low-cut fuchsia halter top in a thin stretchy material meant to tie around the neck and across the back. With it was a matching palazzo style pant designed to ride low on the hips, exposing the midriff. Vivien wasn't sure if it was designed for the bedroom or a nightclub, but it looked vaguely familiar. ”Where did this come from?”
”It was a gift,” Melanie said. ”Someone sent it to me when I was pregnant with Shelby.”
”This?” Vivien held the pieces up. Even at eight weeks the outfit would have looked ludicrous. She didn't even want to think about how it would make her look now. ”What moron sent this outfit to a pregnant woman?
Melanie raised an eyebrow. There was a strange expression on her face. ”You did.”
Vivien blinked in shock. If ever there was a symbol of just how far apart she and Melanie had grown, how little she'd understood or cared about the life her sister was living, this outfit was it. Vivien could hardly believe that she'd acknowledged her little sister's pregnancy and impending motherhood with an outfit better suited for an exotic dancer than a mother-to-be.
”Oh, my G.o.d,” Vivien whispered. ”I was such an idiot.” Her sister had called her all excited about her pregnancy and Vivien had sent her lingerie. Had she imagined it would be stretchy and comfortable? Or had she thought that maybe Melanie would like something s.e.xy for after the delivery? ”What was I thinking?”
But of course that was the point. The occasion had required a gift and she had sent one. She hadn't really been thinking about Melanie at all.