“True.”
As they headed toward the door, she said, “You know, you and your brothers turn heads enough looking so much alike, being so tall and handsome. Now you all three have very pregnant wives on your arms. People are going to think we’re some weird cult or something.”
He thought about the stares they received in the lobby yesterday. “Daisy, people always think something.” He put his hand on the doorknob but turned to look at her. “I think you look incredible. You’re healthy, glowing, and that color looks amazing on you. Quit worrying about what people think.”
She let out a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve never been good with attention. And lately, I’ve gotten a lot of it.”
He opened the door, and she slipped her arm into his. Together, they strolled down the long hallway to the elevators. When they turned the corner, they nearly ran into Brad and Valerie. The men shook hands.
Valerie wore a silver gown that fit tight across her large stomach, and had a slit up the leg to mid-thigh. She accented the gown with a chunky necklace made from clear glass beads and a pair of clear acrylic shoes with silver soles. Her dark skin shone against the silver material.
“Oh, I wish I had the courage to dress like that. You look amazing, and I look like I’m wearing a tent,” Daisy said, brushing her cheek against Valerie’s.
“You do not look like you’re wearing a tent,” Valerie said. She put Daisy at arm’s length. “I love it. Beautiful. And the color.”
Brad asked Ken, “Is Jon already downstairs?”
“Yeah. Alex has worked the inauguration all day. I think she came up about two hours ago, changed, and went back down. Jon’s been with her in case she needs him.”
They stepped into the empty elevator. “You know,” Daisy said, looking up at Ken, “a year ago, if you told me I’d be married, pregnant, and going to a presidential inauguration ball tonight, I’d have laughed in your face.”
“Imagine how different life would be if I hadn’t come to your office looking for a way to spend my money.”
She giggled and squeezed closer to him.
Inthe dream, Daisy leaned forward, gripping Ken’s hand, and bore down and pushed. It was strange that she felt no pain. The room was green with green tile floors and green tile walls. The nurses wore green scrubs and green surgical masks on their faces.
“That’s it, Daisy, keep pushing,” Dr. Reynolds said from behind the green mask.
A cry filled the room. Daisy sniffed and leaned back, turning her head to look at Ken and tell him it was all okay, but he wasn’t next to her anymore. He stood off to the side, holding the baby, but he didn’t look at the baby. He stared at her with a look of sheer terror on his face.
“What’s wrong? Ken, what’s wrong?” she asked. The world shifted and turned. Somehow, she stood off to the side. A bright light shone down on the operating table where red blood covered the green sheets. All the red and all the green and the bright lights reminded her of Christmas.
“I can’t stop the bleeding.”
“Someone needs to go talk to the husband.”
Daisy turned her head and saw a male doctor in green scrubs put a hand on Ken’s back. Ken cradled the baby next to his chest like a football with one arm. He covered his face with his other hand, and his entire body shook with a silent sob.
Suddenly, her mother appeared next to him. “I’ll take the baby now.”
He looked up at her. “It’s not your baby,” he said in Spanish.
“No.” Her mother shook her head. “It’s not your baby. Give it here. Time for you to go now.” She insistently held out her arms.
Daisy opened her eyes. She lay in her own bed. She rolled to a sitting position and put her hands over the swell of her stomach. Her heart beat a rapid rhythm, and her head pounded. She tried to shake off the cobwebs of the dream. Parts of it made no sense, while parts of it felt very real.
Before she could stop them, tears fell out of her eyes. She looked over her shoulder. Ken lay on the pillow, soundly sleeping, a look of peace and contentment on his face.
She quietly left the room and walked to the baby’s room. They hadn’t really done any work in here yet. The crib, dresser, and changing table sat in the middle of the room. They were waiting to find out what they had before they put the nursery together.
She sat on the soft glider chair, her arms wrapped around her belly. “God,” she whispered, “what did that mean? What do I need to do?”
She was due in two weeks. She felt good and had great energy. Was the dream an omen, a warning from God, or the result of cheese ravioli for dinner?
Rubbingthe small of her back, Daisy paced in front of Ken’s desk. He sat back and said, “Please sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”
Ken went back to writing numbers into a column on the pad in front of him as if that settled the matter. He had a big annual meeting in two weeks and hadn’t fully prepared for it yet. Every day brought them closer to Daisy’s due date, and he really wanted to have this work finished so he could focus on her.
