Chapter 9 #3
Riley glances at me, for some reason. "I gotta drive, man. Better not."
I touch his arm. "Have a beer with your brother, Riley. I believe I can operate your vehicle, should the need arise. I shall abstain in solidarity with Ember."
He looks at me for a moment, and I cannot read his emotions on his face. "You sure? It's not a big deal."
"Nor for me," I say. It occurs to me that he may feel self-conscious about alcohol intake and vehicle operation, considering his recent revelation; I lean close and murmur for his ears only. "I feel comfortable trusting your judgment in this matter."
He ducks his head, and I hear him swallow hard. "You sayin' that means a lot." To Felix, then: "Maybe one. Thanks."
I notice neither Felix nor Ember bothers to hide their intense curiosity regarding our aside. It is his story to tell, however, not mine, so I opt to ignore their curiosity.
Felix twists the top off a bottle of beer, hands it to Riley, and claps him on the back. "Come see the backyard, man. You girls good in here?"
Ember smiles at me. "Oh, I think we'll get along alright."
Riley bumps my hip with his. "You okay with that? Me going outside while you stay in here and talk to Ember?"
"Yes. As she said, we will get along just fine." I give his shoulder a gentle nudge. "Go."
He follows his brother through a sliding glass door to an expansive deck overlooking a gently sloping yard leading to the dense, shadowed woods. A large doe ambles along the edge of the yard, ears alert.
Ember waddles into the kitchen. "Iced tea? Soda? Still water? Sparkling water?"
"Sparkling would be delightful, Ember, thank you very much."
She produces two cans of flavored, sparkling water.
But rather than merely handing me the can, she rummages in a cabinet and comes out with a pair of wine goblets.
She adds ice, pours in the water, and then adds a small palmful of frozen berries, plunking a stainless steel straw into each and giving them a swirl.
Handing me one with a smile, she gestures for me to follow her into the kitchen, where there is a cozy breakfast nook built into a corner, complete with a padded bench seat and bumped-out windows. "Life is too short to drink boring shit."
I take a sip and hum my approval. "This is delicious and most refreshing," I tell her. "And I quite agree. A beverage need not contain alcohol to be interesting."
"Cheers," she says, extending her goblet toward mine.
"Afya!" I say in response, clinking my goblet against hers.
"What's that?"
"Oh, it is Swahili. It means 'health'."
"Swahili, hmm?"
“I spent many years of my youth in Kenya with my parents, who were medical missionaries."
"Are you following in their footsteps, then? I thought I heard something about a fundraiser."
"In a manner of speaking, yes. My parents built clinics, staffed them, and taught the staff basic, essential medical care practices. Each Sunday, there was an open house during which the locals could come and receive free care. At the end of each open house, there was a church service."
"That's pretty cool."
I nod, smiling. "It was. I learned a lot in those years, and their work across the decades of their service changed many, many lives for the better. But I have a different calling."
"And that would be what?"
"To use my skills, talents, and experience in places where the need for medical care is most dire. Namely, conflict zones."
Ember's eyes go wide. "Like, combat zones?"
“Yes. Although I do not operate on the front lines. I am not a combat medic."
"Still, that has to be crazy dangerous."
I shrug, nodding. "I suppose so. But there is risk wherever one goes. We do not live in a safe world, after all."
"No, we do not." She regards me thoughtfully. "You're pretty young-looking to be a doctor already."
"I was academically advanced."
"Why that mission?" she asks. "Adrenaline junkie?"
I shake my head. "No, not at all. Growing up as I did, I saw things which most children from this country cannot fathom—adults, either.
I saw the suffering. I saw the results of war.
And I saw firsthand the catastrophic results when proper medical expertise and care are not available.
People die needlessly. They suffer needlessly.
As someone who specializes in emergency medicine and mass casualty triage, I can be of service.
I am a child of individuals who spent their lives in service. How can I do anything less?"
"And why Africa?"
I shrug. “It is familiar. I have spent more of my life there than in the United States.
I am familiar with some of the dialects and customs." I pose a question of my own, to direct conversation away from myself; I am my least favorite topic.
"And you, Ember? You are about to be a mother, but is there a career you intend to return to after your maternal leave? "
"That's a work in progress. I'm studying to be a veterinarian.
It's a remote study thing, mostly online with a few in-person classes at a satellite campus downtown.
I'll work on it from here while taking care of this little nugget," she rubs her belly, here, "and eventually I'll start working once she's in school. "
I find myself asking a question which is likely too forward. "May I ask you a somewhat personal question?"
She grins. "Sure."
"Are you…frightened? Of being a mother?"
She looks away, her smile fading. "No one's asked me that before."
"I apologize if it is an inappropriate question, Ember. I hope I have not caused you offense."
She shakes her head. "No, not at all. I…
I appreciate the question, honestly." She stares away, thinking; I remain silent to allow her the time to consider the answer.
"Everyone just sort of assumes that you're gonna be so excited to be a mommy, right?
Like, oh, you're married and about to have a baby with the man you love, that must be so exciting.
And I mean, yeah, it is. I love the absolute shit out of Fee.
He's the most amazing man I've ever known.
I am excited. I'm happy. I'm as ready as I can be.
" She shakes her head, swallowing hard, her voice dropping to a murmur.
"But I'm absolutely fucking terrified, Cadence.
No one really talks about that. I mean, you hear about the reality of having a baby.
They tell you that yes, the pain is the worst thing you'll ever feel, but you'll forget all about it the second you have your baby in your arms. They tell you about not sleeping.
Chapped, chafed nipples. Weight that won't come off.
Stretch marks. Loss of sex drive. But what I haven't heard anyone talking about is this part right here.
I'm like, less than a week from my due date.
My water could break any time. She's doing somersaults and kicking me and dancing on my bladder, and it's just…
it's real. She's real. She’s a person, growing inside me.
She's gonna come out and everything about who I am and my life is going to change, totally and permanently.
And…I'm scared out of my mind." She shudders, and her shoulders shake.
"God, it's good to be able to say this. Even Fee, I can't…
I don't know how to admit to him that I'm shitting my pants, over here.
It's not that I'm not happy and excited.
It's not that I don't want this—I do. I just…
I'm scared. What if…" she trails off, laughing and shaking her head. “There are so many what ifs."
"For example?"
"My god. Everything. I lay awake at night while she's having a dance party and going nuts in there, and I just…
spiral. What if I fall asleep while holding her and I drop her?
What if she gets sick and I can't do anything?
What if I'm a bad mom? I've read about new moms who can't emotionally connect to their babies.
What if I don't love her enough? What if I mess her up?
I mean, fuck, my own mom was…she loved me, but I did not grow up normally, and while I can't say I regret anything, it has definitely left its mark on me. "
"It seems to me that one would have to lack sense, were you not afraid. Procreation is the most natural part of life. All species rear children. But that does not mean it is easy or that it comes naturally."
She frowns my way, but then turns away, thinking, and the frown slowly morphs into a smile at me. "Y'know, I really appreciate the fact that you didn't dismiss my fears. Like, ‘oh, you're being silly, of course you'll be a good mom, there's nothing to be afraid of.’”
I shake my head. “That would be disingenuous at best, I think. Fear is necessary. It gives us caution. It teaches us to think. You have reason to be afraid. But being afraid does not mean you are not ready or that you will not succeed—and indeed thrive—in motherhood."
She grins, then. "I think I'm already starting to see what Riley sees in you. You are very wise."
"You are kind to say so."
"How'd you two meet?"
“Oh, well…I was upset and he comforted me. And now he is assisting me in raising the funds I need."
"Can you tell me about that?"
"Certainly."
I explain the situation, Riley's involvement, and the efforts made so far.
"Wait, so…this all happened in the last couple of days?"
“Yes."
"So you met him when he left our wedding?"
I blink. “Your wedding?"
She smiles. 'Yes. Felix and I were just married two days ago. Riley left the reception early."
"Oh. My goodness. Well, please, allow me to offer my most sincere congratulations. You are not embarking on a honeymoon, I take it, so close to your due date?"
"We went on our honeymoon a couple of months ago, when my doctor was still okay with me flying."
"A logical arrangement, to be sure."
She sniffs a laugh. "To be sure."
Riley is visible through the doorwall, standing and talking to his brother while sipping his beer. He glances at me through the glass and smiles at me. And yes, my stomach flutters.