Saturday Morning (22 page)

“Blue! You mean … ?” Hope felt her jaw drop. She shook her head in utter disbelief. “No, it can’t be. You said I couldn’t … ”

Dr. Cheong nodded. “I know what I said, but this is pretty conclusive.” She handed Hope the stick. “The only explanation I have is that I think God wants you to have a child of your own.” She shared a smile with Hope.

“You’re sure?”

“I can run it again, but your body shows all the symptoms. When did you have your last period?”

“I don’t know. You know how it’s been. Sometimes I have them, sometimes they are terrible, and sometimes I don’t.”

“No problem. We’ll go on fetal development. Another month or so, and we’ll do a sonogram, especially since this is your first.”

“Oh, my.” Hope stared at the stick. “I-I’m going to have a baby.” Softly, reverently, she repeated the words. “I’m going to have a baby.” Still lying on the table, she smoothed a hand over her nearly concave belly, then looked up into her doctor’s dark eyes. “There really is a baby growing in there?” A tear leaked out and rolled down her temple.

Dr. Cheong stood and retrieved her prescription pad from the counter. “You need to get on some good prenatal vitamins.” She
scribbled down a couple of brands, then ripped off the page and handed it to Hope as she was sitting up. “And cut out the caffeine.”

“Wait a minute.”
No caffeine. How will I function with no caffeine?

“No smoking, no drinking, not that you do, but just so you know. You’re going to need plenty of rest. Your power walking is fine, but no marathons, and tell Roger I want to see him.”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, but I’m sure you aren’t going to tell him all this, so I will do it for you. Remember, you are up in years for a first baby. We’ll need to be a bit more cautious.”

“A baby,” Hope whispered again, still in a state of shock, then stared at her doctor. “I sure wasn’t prepared for this. I thought I had something wrong, gall bladder or acid reflux or—” She stroked her middle with a gentle hand. “You’ll deliver him or her, won’t you? I don’t want to have to switch to an ob-gyn.”

“There’s no reason for you to switch unless you need a specialist. Get dressed now, and I suggest you and Roger make a list of all your questions after you have time to absorb this.” She patted Hope’s shoulder. “Make an appointment for next month on your way out. And make sure you keep it. Monthly exams are very important.”

“Yes ma’am.” Hope all but saluted.

Dr. Cheong picked up Hope’s chart. “Remember, I know where you live, and I’ll come looking for you if you don’t show up.” She handed Hope a packet of information and some sample vitamins.

“Doctor who makes house calls?” Hope raised an eyebrow, and the two shared a comfortable smile. Over the years, Dr. Cheong had often come to the shelter when Hope had called her, but never for herself, always for one of the shelter’s women or children.

As soon as the door closed, Hope got off the examining table, stuffed the packet and vitamins into her purse, and started to get
dressed. Her thoughts were so consumed with the news that she put her panties on backward and had to take them off and start over.
I’m going to have a baby. We’re going to have a baby.
She left the building in a virtual daze.

Outside the clinic, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and lifted her face to the sun. She recalled one of her favorite lines by an early Catholic saint, Dame Julian of Norwich: “All will be well, all will be well, all manner of things will be well.” For years after she and Roger were married, she’d asked God nightly to heal her so she could become pregnant. Eventually, she’d given up. She felt ashamed of herself now. She knew God’s promises, at least most of them. She should have had more faith.

She started for home, her thoughts flitting as fast as hummingbird wings. A baby. A little baby to love and cherish. She would need a crib and bottles and diapers. They would have to clean out the storage room and turn it into a nursery. If it was a girl, she would want to name her after her mother, and if it was a boy, she would want to name him after Roger’s father.

Roger!

Her thoughts came to a bone-jarring halt. What would Roger think? She grabbed the bench at the bus stop and tried to get control of her thoughts. In her excitement, she had momentarily forgotten about Roger. She smiled when she thought about how he would react to the news. Long before they even talked about getting married, she had told him she was incapable of having children. He’d been disappointed at first, but he accepted it and said that God had a reason for everything. When they’d begun their work with the shelter, both of them had known without question what the reason was.

She picked up her pace, eager to get home. How would she tell him? Should she find some knitting needles and yarn and start knitting baby booties, like in the old movies? Or maybe she should buy a
book on baby names and leave it on his pillow. Or maybe she could play twenty questions and see if he could guess the answer.

Back at J House, Hope fought to keep her feelings under control. He would never guess.

“So what did she say? Do you need more tests?” Roger studied his wife’s face, his expression telling her he was worried.

“No, not right now, but I have to go back next month and the month after that until … ” She saw his brows furrow and felt guilty for prolonging his agony.

“Hope, for Pete’s sake … ” Roger took a step toward her. “You look like the cat who killed the cream and licked the bird, and yet it sounds like you’re telling me something is really wrong.”

Hope beckoned him with a head motion, then walked toward their apartment, begging off the calls for her attention from Celia and one of the other girls with a wave of her hand. She didn’t care what they wanted; they could wait a few minutes while she told her husband their news.

Roger, darling this will be the shock of your life.

Preceding Roger by seconds, she quickly dug the packet of information Dr. Cheong had given her out of her purse, scanned it, found a drawing of an embryo at two months, and clutched it to her chest.

“Okay, what is it?” Roger closed the door behind him.

“What is something we’ve wanted and couldn’t have?” Hope tried to act calm, but she couldn’t still the tremor in her voice.

“All the bills paid?” He rolled his eyes when she shook her head. “Hope, you know how I hate guessing games.”

“This something takes nine months and … ” Hand trembling, she handed him the booklet. “Right there, that’s what’s been making me feel sick.”

Roger’s eyes widened, and he stared from the cover of a booklet tided
So You Are Pregnant
to his wife, and back to the booklet in his
hand. “Oh, my … ” He choked and swallowed. With a whoop, he tossed the pamphlet over his shoulder and gathered Hope into his arms. “We’re pregnant?”

She nodded. “We—you and me—were going to be parents. A real mom and dad.” She rubbed her belly. “And here I was afraid it was a malady of some kind.” She leaned her forehead against his chest. “Can you believe it? I hardly can, and I’ve been the one with my head over the commode.”

He stroked up and down her back and kissed the side of her face. “How is this possible? Dr. Cheong said you would never get pregnant.”

“When I mentioned that to her, she said the only answer she could think of was that God wanted us to have a child of our own.”

Roger rocked her back and forth in his arms. “I’ve never been this close to a pregnant woman before. I’ve never been around babies either. What if I—we—don’t know what to do?”

“Well, I guess we’re going to learn.” She pulled back and offered her mouth to his.

“Phone for Hope,” Celia called from beyond the closed door.

Hope sighed and stepped out of Rogers arms. “I’ll take it in here,” she said, opening the door a crack. She kissed her husband one more time and picked up the phone. “Hope speaking.” How she loved to answer that way, corny or not. “Sure, just a minute.” She covered the mouthpiece. “How about gathering the troops? Meeting in my office in fifteen minutes.”

Roger nodded and left the room with a wink while she returned to her phone call. “Sorry. Now, how can I help you?” She grabbed a pen and pad. “With kids or without? When would she be coming?” She shook her head. “She has to come on her own and be willing to accept help, you know that, Charles. Court mandates don’t count unless she is willing. There are no bars here.” Yes, they had a high success rate, she knew that. But it was because she was careful about who
could come. Even then, some of the young women had left, like Kiss the week before, or gone back to their old life when clean and sober and a regular job got too hard.

“Yes, I’ll give her an interview tomorrow afternoon, say three. Okay?” Hope hung up the phone and doodled around
Serena
, the girl’s name. Since one of the girls had left while she was at Dr. Cheong’s, she had one bed available, and right now it was first-come, first-served. She ripped the sheet off the pad so she could write the appointment on her office calendar before meeting with the others.

Her stomach rumbled, so after a bathroom break, she helped herself to a piece of cheese from the fridge, then opened the door and walked across the hall to her office.

Trying to appear nonchalant when she was about to burst at the seams took supreme will. They all checked her face and then lined up on the couch and bench, silent. The last ones leaned against the walls or sat on the floor.

Finally Chelsea, who at fourteen was their youngest resident, except for the children, burst out. “You ain’t gonna die, are you, Hope? Please don’t die.”

“No, Chelsea, don’t be—Whatever made you think such a thing?” Hope could feel her bangs tickle her eyebrows. As soon as Roger closed the door behind him, she reached for his hand. “I just wanted you all together so I didn’t have to say this a hundred times. As you know, I did go for my doctors appointment this morning.” She glanced at Celia. “In spite of files scattered all over the floor.” Snickers danced around the room.

“Cops helped pick some of them up too.” Celia nodded. “Now, what was it you have to say?”

“I’m … We’re … ” Hope took a deep breath and grabbed Roger’s hand. “We’re going to have a baby.”

“Y-you’re not dying.” Chelsea leaped to her feet and rushed
around the desk to throw her arms around Hope in a monster hug. “A baby. You’re going to have a baby.”

“You sure that’s safe, old as you are?” Celia hung back, eyes narrowed.

“God must think so because this is a miracle pregnancy, according to Dr. Cheong.” Hope stared across her desk at the woman who had become closer than a sister in their years of working together, since even before Hope and Roger had struggled to get pregnant. Celia knew the whole story.

“Yes, and while I am getting close to forty, I am wonderfully healthy, and she sees no problem.” Hope paused. “I’m supposed to be a bit more cautious and make sure I get extra rest.”

“And no caffeine.” Roger laid his hand on his wife’s shoulder.

“Lord, preserve us.” Celia looked toward heaven. “We’re gonna need another miracle here!”

Hope had often and with some gusto delivered her opinion of decaf anything.

“That means no chocolate,” Celia said firmly.

“No, it means no coffee.” Hope stared at her friend. “There’s caffeine in chocolate?” The despair in her voice brought on another case of snickers from those gathered.
How will I live without coffee and chocolate?
One to get her going and one to keep her going.

After answering a barrage of questions, many of which she had to respond to with “I don’t know,” the group filed out one or two at a time, chattering and giggling.

Hope could tell something was already afoot by the glances and giggles thrown her way. She started to say something to Roger when the phone rang.

“Hope here. Oh, hi, Julia. What’s up?”