Rare and Precious Things
Page 61
“Oh, I know, Robbie, he’s been reminding me about it. I’m sure he’s been reminding you, too. Ethan just wants to make sure the crib is assembled correctly so it’s one-hundred-percent safe. It’s the security-guy thing in him. It crosses over into all aspects of our lives, as I am sure you already know,” I said sarcastically.
Robbie laughed and headed out, but he turned back before he left the room. “Does Sir Frisk need to have a trip outside before I have to head out?” he asked me.
“I don’t know, maybe he does, although he looks pretty happy where he is right now.” I peered down at Sir who was sprawled out on the new rug, blinking up at me with his gorgeous golden eyes, and asked, “Do you want to go outside with Robbie?”
He didn’t budge. And I was certain he understood my question. My Sir was super smart, and he loved me best. Doggy love for the win.
“Guess not right now, Robbie. He’ll let me know when he needs to go out, and I want to take a walk later anyway.”
“Very good, Mrs. Blackstone.”
I returned to my mural painting for the nursery after Robbie left. He and his wife, Ellen, took really wonderful care of Stonewell, both when we were here, and when we were in London. Robbie had grown a soft spot for Sir Frisk too, which was a nice thing, as he would always stay here. None of us could imagine confining such a creature to a London penthouse flat. It just wouldn’t be right. I’d miss him very much though, and we planned to go back in another week so there were no chances taken with me going into labor early. Ethan was paranoid about it, and as usual, I let him have his way.
This mural was of the sea instead of a tree. Some of the elements were still a question until we knew if we had a Thomas or a Laurel. I smiled as I worked on some of the white cloud shapes, remembering how Ethan interrogated me this morning about the paints I was using for the project, and were they water-based, non-toxic mixtures? He was always so cautious about everything, but I knew it was just because he loved me so much.
He’d been worried last night after the mega-amazing sex session too, which I thought was unwarranted. I felt fine, and from all that I’d read in the literature about pregnancy and birth, sex was perfectly safe for couples as long as there weren’t complications, and you felt up to the task. Well, I certainly did. And Ethan always was “up” for it. I think we were both really desperate for the intimacy and closeness after our scare with his accident. Nothing prioritized life faster, or more effectively, than the near death of a loved one.
We’d come too close to losing each other. I shuddered at the thought and went back to shading fluffy white clouds over a sparkling blue-green sea.
SIR hovered on his haunches, ready to spring the second I let his favorite rag bone fly. “Go get it, boy.” I let it go, putting my high school shot-put skills to use. He tore off to find it in the natural plantings at the edge of the lawn, happily rooting around and enjoying himself. I sat on one of the garden walls and waited for him to come back.
Feeling a little bit of backache earlier, I’d hoped an easy walk with the dog would help, but it hadn’t. The dull pain was still there, and I wanted a hot drink. I pulled my sweater shawl closer to ward off the chill. It was wintertime after all and I was grateful for the dry day, but checking out the dark clouds above, it looked like it would be raining in another hour or so.
I called Sir back over to me, and stood up to go back inside the house. The weirdest sensation of heat hit me between my legs. It lasted for about two seconds before it didn’t feel warm anymore. I was wet down there. A lot wet. Like I’d pissed my pants, but I knew I definitely had not.
I freaked for a moment, afraid it could be blood, but when I touched the area of my leggings, my hand came away clear and wet, not bloody. I put my fingers up to my nose and smelled it. Not pee, just wet... Water…
Shit!
I figured there was a very good chance my water had just broken.
Double shit!
RUNNING Blackstone Security from Somerset was really working out quite well. I’d put in the same communications system I had in the London flat, and conducted my business in the same way as before. Neil was running the executive offices in town, and keeping the cogs running smoothly to the point I don’t think I was even missed. I’d have to give some serious thought to what my role would be in London for the future. The idea of staying here at Stonewell for more than just weekends was an appealing one. I knew Brynne loved the country, and had even been in contact with her art advisor at University of London about organizing some evaluative study of the paintings at Hallborough. After the discovery of the Sir Frisk painting belonging to Mallerton, she’d been thoroughly charged up with discovering what other secrets might be hiding in the old house. She told me there was plenty of work there to keep her busy for years, if the proposal was funded.
The sound of a barking dog assaulted my thoughts. Incessant, non-stop, frantic barking. This wasn’t like Sir at all. He was usually fairly quiet, which was a trait I liked about him. He was a good dog, but what I was hearing sounded like he was agitated. I wondered if somebody was outside on the property.
I stood up from my desk and used the crutches to head over to the window. My study overlooked the back gardens and then the coastal sea beyond it.
I could make out Sir, barking frantically in the direction of the house with his head pointing up at the sky.
He was beside Brynne.
She was sitting on the garden wall holding herself between her legs.
Her light grey leggings were stained dark at the insides of her thighs—
Fuck. NO! NO! NO!
“FRED, what’s going on? Tell me something useful!” I had my brother-in-law by the collar and pulled up to my face, feeling like my heart would explode in another minute or two.
“Stop manhandling the doctor so he can deliver your baby,” he said calmly, pushing me off him. “Go with Mary Ellen. She’ll get you scrubbed for theatre. You’re about to be a father, you big nob.”
“Caesarean section? Really, Fred?” I croaked.
“’Fraid so, brother. The baby is in a breech position and we can’t risk a foot-first birth for Brynne. She’s not built for it.” He slapped me on the back hard. “She’s going to be fine. Stop worrying me and go get ready.” Fred left me in the hall and disappeared into a door marked for staff only.
I gulped and followed Mary Ellen, hoping I didn’t pass out before I got to wherever she was leading me.
Robbie laughed and headed out, but he turned back before he left the room. “Does Sir Frisk need to have a trip outside before I have to head out?” he asked me.
“I don’t know, maybe he does, although he looks pretty happy where he is right now.” I peered down at Sir who was sprawled out on the new rug, blinking up at me with his gorgeous golden eyes, and asked, “Do you want to go outside with Robbie?”
He didn’t budge. And I was certain he understood my question. My Sir was super smart, and he loved me best. Doggy love for the win.
“Guess not right now, Robbie. He’ll let me know when he needs to go out, and I want to take a walk later anyway.”
“Very good, Mrs. Blackstone.”
I returned to my mural painting for the nursery after Robbie left. He and his wife, Ellen, took really wonderful care of Stonewell, both when we were here, and when we were in London. Robbie had grown a soft spot for Sir Frisk too, which was a nice thing, as he would always stay here. None of us could imagine confining such a creature to a London penthouse flat. It just wouldn’t be right. I’d miss him very much though, and we planned to go back in another week so there were no chances taken with me going into labor early. Ethan was paranoid about it, and as usual, I let him have his way.
This mural was of the sea instead of a tree. Some of the elements were still a question until we knew if we had a Thomas or a Laurel. I smiled as I worked on some of the white cloud shapes, remembering how Ethan interrogated me this morning about the paints I was using for the project, and were they water-based, non-toxic mixtures? He was always so cautious about everything, but I knew it was just because he loved me so much.
He’d been worried last night after the mega-amazing sex session too, which I thought was unwarranted. I felt fine, and from all that I’d read in the literature about pregnancy and birth, sex was perfectly safe for couples as long as there weren’t complications, and you felt up to the task. Well, I certainly did. And Ethan always was “up” for it. I think we were both really desperate for the intimacy and closeness after our scare with his accident. Nothing prioritized life faster, or more effectively, than the near death of a loved one.
We’d come too close to losing each other. I shuddered at the thought and went back to shading fluffy white clouds over a sparkling blue-green sea.
SIR hovered on his haunches, ready to spring the second I let his favorite rag bone fly. “Go get it, boy.” I let it go, putting my high school shot-put skills to use. He tore off to find it in the natural plantings at the edge of the lawn, happily rooting around and enjoying himself. I sat on one of the garden walls and waited for him to come back.
Feeling a little bit of backache earlier, I’d hoped an easy walk with the dog would help, but it hadn’t. The dull pain was still there, and I wanted a hot drink. I pulled my sweater shawl closer to ward off the chill. It was wintertime after all and I was grateful for the dry day, but checking out the dark clouds above, it looked like it would be raining in another hour or so.
I called Sir back over to me, and stood up to go back inside the house. The weirdest sensation of heat hit me between my legs. It lasted for about two seconds before it didn’t feel warm anymore. I was wet down there. A lot wet. Like I’d pissed my pants, but I knew I definitely had not.
I freaked for a moment, afraid it could be blood, but when I touched the area of my leggings, my hand came away clear and wet, not bloody. I put my fingers up to my nose and smelled it. Not pee, just wet... Water…
Shit!
I figured there was a very good chance my water had just broken.
Double shit!
RUNNING Blackstone Security from Somerset was really working out quite well. I’d put in the same communications system I had in the London flat, and conducted my business in the same way as before. Neil was running the executive offices in town, and keeping the cogs running smoothly to the point I don’t think I was even missed. I’d have to give some serious thought to what my role would be in London for the future. The idea of staying here at Stonewell for more than just weekends was an appealing one. I knew Brynne loved the country, and had even been in contact with her art advisor at University of London about organizing some evaluative study of the paintings at Hallborough. After the discovery of the Sir Frisk painting belonging to Mallerton, she’d been thoroughly charged up with discovering what other secrets might be hiding in the old house. She told me there was plenty of work there to keep her busy for years, if the proposal was funded.
The sound of a barking dog assaulted my thoughts. Incessant, non-stop, frantic barking. This wasn’t like Sir at all. He was usually fairly quiet, which was a trait I liked about him. He was a good dog, but what I was hearing sounded like he was agitated. I wondered if somebody was outside on the property.
I stood up from my desk and used the crutches to head over to the window. My study overlooked the back gardens and then the coastal sea beyond it.
I could make out Sir, barking frantically in the direction of the house with his head pointing up at the sky.
He was beside Brynne.
She was sitting on the garden wall holding herself between her legs.
Her light grey leggings were stained dark at the insides of her thighs—
Fuck. NO! NO! NO!
“FRED, what’s going on? Tell me something useful!” I had my brother-in-law by the collar and pulled up to my face, feeling like my heart would explode in another minute or two.
“Stop manhandling the doctor so he can deliver your baby,” he said calmly, pushing me off him. “Go with Mary Ellen. She’ll get you scrubbed for theatre. You’re about to be a father, you big nob.”
“Caesarean section? Really, Fred?” I croaked.
“’Fraid so, brother. The baby is in a breech position and we can’t risk a foot-first birth for Brynne. She’s not built for it.” He slapped me on the back hard. “She’s going to be fine. Stop worrying me and go get ready.” Fred left me in the hall and disappeared into a door marked for staff only.
I gulped and followed Mary Ellen, hoping I didn’t pass out before I got to wherever she was leading me.
