Subject: Care (01/02) Date: Sat, 22 May 1999 08:28:27 -0700 From: clark To: FKFIC-L@lists.psu.edu This is follows six other stories I've written, "Hope," "Faith," "Charity," "Peace," "Love," and "Understanding." Due to some language and descriptions, "Hope" was posted under an adult header. All the previous stories are available on my website, http://www.best.com/~sclark/fk/. Permission given to archive at fkfanfic website and the FTP site. No other permission is granted to repost/reprint/reuse. If you're interested drop me a line. Feedback, virtual mangoes, or time machines are all welcomed. This story is based on characters and situations that aren't mine. Thanks to TPTB for their use. Care (01/02) by S. Clark Natalie grew increasingly tense as she watched her friend Margaret's face. Margaret's words had yet to betray anything but the doctor/patient banter the two normally engaged in during a checkup. But, as Margaret removed the tape measure from Natalie's swollen belly, her demeanor, well, that wasn't Margaret's usual. "How's everything?" Natalie asked. It was an easy question, not probing. Margaret didn't respond. "You know, away from this place," Natalie tacked on quickly. Perhaps she shouldn't rush any news, especially news she'd rather not hear. "With me, fine?" Margaret went to the counter and jotted something on the chart. "By the way, I didn't see Nick out in the waiting room." Natalie squirmed a little, readjusting herself on the table as best she could. "Nick couldn't come for this appointment." Margaret nodded. "But you did get a ride here?" "My friend Grace brought me." Natalie took in a couple deep breaths. "Why?" "I just think you'd have trouble driving. You know, reaching the steering wheel, the pedals." "I haven't tried for a while, honestly," Natalie confessed. "Nowhere to go, I guess." Margaret nodded, and made some additional notes on the chart. "Good. That's probably for the best, anyway." Natalie's fears were further provoked by those words. "For the best? Why?" She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "What's wrong?" Margaret rolled up a stool so she could have a seat next to Natalie. "You show a significant increase in fundal height. I'd like to do a quick ultrasound." "What are you thinking?" "It could be nothing." Margaret laid a light hand on her friend's shoulder. "But it's best we check." "But it could be something, also." Margaret smiled. "Anything could be something. I'd like to do a scan, and see what that shows us." ### Natalie sat on the couch, alone. Leaning against the arm, she rested her legs on the cushion. Inconclusive. She let the words drift through her thoughts. That's what Margaret had said. The results of the scan were inconclusive. Inconclusive was an easier word than the other one Margaret had used. Polyhydramnios. Excess amniotic fluid. Possible indicator of several of conditions, conditions ranging from benign to serious. Inconclusive was open, not as precise. It wasn't a neutral word, but it also wasn't a word she could relate to studies, to pictures and descriptions. The scan, the excess fluid, made the attempt to view the fetus's internal organs inconclusive. Now Natalie had to wait, to schedule another ultrasound. On the plus side, Margaret had said the follow-up appointment wasn't urgent. The heartbeat looked good, as did the baby's tone. And the child was moving well. Still, without more information, without conclusive information, Natalie couldn't bring herself to tell Nick. He was so excited about the baby, excited enough for both of them. How would he take the news. How could she do that to him? No, it was best to wait. For Nick's sake. It was easier that way. So Natalie sat on the couch. And rubbed her hands over her stomach. And once again, mulled over the word. Inconclusive. ### Natalie jumped when she heard the door upstairs open. She could hear Nick padding down the stairs. She dabbed at the tears on her cheeks, and hoped he wouldn't notice the puffiness, the redness of her eyes. He went to the end of the couch and grabbed her left foot, giving it a light massage. "You didn't wake me when you came in." Natalie forced a smile to her face. "I didn't want to climb the stairs." "And what news did Margaret have for us?" "You know, the same." "Good." Nick had that innocent, wide-eyed look. The one she found so difficult to resist. She wanted to continue to cry, to have him hold her, comfort her. And she was afraid. He moved to the other foot. "You look tired." "I haven't been able to fall sleep." That, at least, was the truth. Nick set her foot back on the couch. He moved to sit beside her, and placed a hand on her abdomen. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "Can I get you something to eat?" That did it. He was being so nice, so patient. And she couldn't tell him the truth. Her tears started again. "Natalie?" He stroked her hair, rubbed his hand over her back. His words were spoken slowly, cautiously. "Is everything all right?" She hugged him, holding on tight. "I'm just tired," she said through the sobs. "Just tired." He held her until the tears ceased. She had cried herself out, cried herself to sleep. Nick reached for a pillow and propped it behind her back. He covered her, tucking in the blanket up around her chin. Confident that she was fully asleep, he reluctantly moved away from her, from the stirring child. Time to prepare for his day, and leave her to her sleep. ###