And Baby Makes Three
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2010 by Pedant

We were just about to leave when Weena said: "Time" and I looked at my watch.

"What's up?" Evans asked.

"Pregnant women 'practice' having the baby. That is, the uterine muscles contract periodically. For some women it goes on for five months. Weena only began a week or two ago. When they come ten minutes or less apart, it's time to race to the delivery room." I said.

"One might describe it more elegantly, but that's about it. On top of that, Patrick likes to kick my bladder. That's not fun, either. But it'll be over soon. By the way are you religious?"

"Are you kidding? Why?"

"Sunday's Palm Sunday."

"Not my problem. My grand dad was a Calvinist Methodist. My dad used to refuse to go to chapel."

"And Willy?"

"Not a notion. Probably from a Lutheran family. I don't think she cares."

"Her family might," said Weena. "Well, nothing's happened. Let's go home."

At home, Weena asked me to "grease up" her breasts as well as her belly. "They feel swollen and sore," she said. "And I had to change my pads twice because I'm dripping."

"Yum, yum."

"Later. Patrick gets firsts."

"Okay." (I'm easy to please.)

In the morning Weena asked Evans whether he'd tried to phone Willy.

"No."

"Don't you think you should?"

"Would they let me talk to her?"

"You'll find out when you ask. What kind of initiative are you showing? Aren't you one of Her Majesty's senior officers? I never thought you'd act like a wimp!"

He looked at her and burst out laughing. "You're right, of course. I'm not a teenager and neither is she. Can I use that phone again?" Weena just laughed and waved her hand.

"You're brilliant!" I told her. "Now, go lie down. I'll take Evans to the supermarket with me. We'll get stuff for lunch and tonight. I bet he's gone early tomorrow."

"No bet. But let me make a list before napping. By the way, I need stuff to read. Got any female authors?"

"Ever read Carmel Bird?"

"No."

"I know we've got Woodpecker Point, but I think there's something with Cherry in the title, in there too."

"I think Patrick likes Woodpecker -- he kicked when you said it. There he goes again!"

Weena made a list and went upstairs. After 20 minutes or so a grinning Captain appeared. "Hold that thought," I said. "I need to get something." It was Cherry Ripe, sitting beside Woodpecker Point and Bluebird Cafe. More than enough for Weena. I took all three upstairs.

"Sorry," I said to Evans. "I wanted Weena to lie down and promised her reading material. Let's go food shopping and we can talk." He nodded.

We took the Rover. "I gather you did talk to Willy," I opened.

"Oh, yes. Weena was right. They put me right through. I told her I'd spoken to her mum. She's going to call later. Weena was right there, too. Her parents are church-goers. Her something-or-other great grandfather came here in the 1840s. She thinks the second group of Prussian Lutherans. Anyway, they live near Riverton and she went to the Waikerie Lutheran Primary School. But she then went to state schools. Anyway, she wants a church wedding down in South Australia. We'll have to talk about when. She doesn't want to live too near her folks. She'd like to see Maclean before committing. But one thing she does want is an airplane. I understand that. It's like my wanting a boat of my own. What do you think?" He ran down, like a windup toy.

"Well, a house, a boat and a plane will run to a lot of wonga."

"Wonga?"

"Dosh."

"Right. Oh, I've got lots of money. I don't even know how much. I get papers every month and every quarter and once a year for tax purposes. I don't worry about money. I don't even use up my salary. I'll use it up on Willy, now."

"Oh. I never knew."

"When my folks died, my sister and I split everything. When she died, her husband took everything and I don't know where he went."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"Five years older than me. They were living in Croydon. He worked for Traveltrain. She stepped on something and by the time they got her to the hospital she had blood poisoning. Septicaemia. They couldn't do anything but give her morphine. She wasn't 40." He stopped and took a breath. "The insurance paid me millions for my wife. They could have kept it and let me keep her. But it's years now. The money's just sat there making more money."

 
There is more of this chapter...
The source of this story is Finestories

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close