Nameless (16 page)

“Indeed.” His
hand skimmed over her bellybutton, which had popped out a couple of weeks ago.

Just then, she
felt a couple of little flutters in her stomach. Then a firm kick.

Seth grew tense
behind her.

“Did you feel
that?” she asked lightly, wondering how he’d react to such an experience, since
he was not a sentimental man.

He didn’t
answer. Just pressed his hand against her belly more firmly.

Erin felt
strangely confused, so she kept talking casually. “She seems to have woken up,
and she’s gotten restless. I think she was asleep before.”

“Was she?” His
voice was impersonal and unrevealing.

“Yeah. She has
a schedule, you know.”

“Does she?”

“Yeah,” she
said again. “Sometimes she’s awake and moving around a lot. And then sometimes
she’s asleep. Let me tell you, it’s a very strange thing to keep up with.”

Seth’s hand
started moving again, gently stroking over the heavy curve and tight skin of
her abdomen, skimming over her protruding bellybutton. “I would imagine so.”

“Particularly
for a woman as unmaternal as I am,” she added, shifting a little and feeling
very strange in her belly—this time, the feelings not caused by carrying her
daughter.

Something in Seth’s
voice changed. “What does that mean?”

Erin shrugged
and wished she hadn’t brought the topic up at all. “I just mean, I’ve never
been one of those women who coo and get mushy over kids. I basically know
nothing about babies and never even wanted one. So trying to get used to things
is kind of hard for me.”

Seth’s hand had
settled over her bellybutton, and he was playing with it unconsciously. “Well,
I don’t know any more than you do, but I think you’re doing pretty well, considering.”

Erin felt
herself smiling, more pleased by Seth’s idle, qualified compliment than she
would be at gushing praise from anyone else. Feeling particularly benevolent,
she replied, “You’re doing pretty well too.” She glanced behind her at Seth’s
unrevealing face. “Considering.”

He gave a huff
of laughter and didn’t respond.

After a few
minutes, Erin realized that he was still fondling her stupid bellybutton. He
didn’t appear to recognize what he was doing, since she was pretty sure he was
lost in his own thoughts.

So she asked,
“Do you have a bellybutton fetish I didn’t know about before?”

He jerked a
little, and his hand stilled on her stomach. “Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention.”

She shrugged it
off and suddenly felt compelled to know more about what he was thinking. “Seth?
Seriously. Can you tell me what you really think about this?”

Seth answered
immediately, and his voice sounded a little confused. “It’s not a big deal. Certainly
not a fetish. It just feels different than it did before, and I found it rather
fascinating. So I just started playing with it without thinking.”

It took Erin a
minute to figure out what he was talking about. Then she released a hoarse
burst of laughter. “No. Not my bellybutton. I’d switched topics. Try to keep
up.” She swallowed hard. Tried again. “I meant, can you tell me how you really
feel about all of
this
?” This time, she waved her hand over the two of
them, trying to encapsulate their partnership in this pregnancy through the one
gesture.

“This?” he
prompted, his body getting stiffer and his voice becoming wary.

“The baby. Your
involvement. Everything.”

Seth’s body
actually relaxed a little, and Erin wondered what he’d initially thought she
was asking. It occurred to her that he might have thought she was trying to pin
him down on their sexual relationship. Maybe he’d thought she was about to
demand a wedding ring or something.

The thought
made her a little queasy.

She’d never
wanted to marry Seth, and she knew he didn’t want to marry her. They were both
far too practical and realistic for such things.

Taking comfort
in that thought, she pursued her original question. “You’ve been great about
everything. Supportive and helpful and going well beyond the call of duty.” Her
voice lifted at the end, making it clear that she was teasing him on the
subject of his willingness to meet her physical needs. “But this came out of
nowhere for you. Just as much as it has for me. And I’ve had some trouble
adjusting.” She was too nervous to look back at him, so instead she tried to
read his mood from the feel of his body. Couldn’t. “I just can’t believe that
you’re having such an easy time with it.”

“It’s not easy,”
he admitted.

She didn’t
respond immediately, mostly because she didn’t know what to say.

After a minute,
he continued, “I don’t know anything about family or having a child or…or
anything.” He paused for a speaking moment. “I don’t want to blow it.”

She was oddly
touched by the halting admission—which she’d never expected to hear from
him—and she snuggled back against him instinctively.

Then the feel
of him changed, and his tone shifted, becoming much more like his confident,
matter-of-fact self. “But that’s not anything major. It’s not the same as you.
Your involvement in this is far greater than mine is. You’re carrying her, and
you'll be raising her. She’ll be a Marshall baby, not a Thomas baby. Right?”

Erin cringed as
she heard her words from five months ago. “Yes. But she’s still your daughter. If
you want to talk about things, or if you have any concerns, I’d want to hear
them.”

“You’ll hear my
relevant concerns as they arise.”

And that was no
answer at all.

Erin made a
face, but didn’t push him, even though she was disappointed that, after
starting to open up, he’d withdrawn immediately.

Seth had no
reason to confide in her, and it was silly to even want him to. Things were
working out very well as they were. No use to rock the boat and make things either
complicated or conflicted between them.

“Okay. That
makes sense,” she said lightly.

His hand was
still on her belly, strangely protective. She was sure it was an unconscious
gesture, and she tried not to read too much into it.

Even so, it
made her kind of jittery.

“I don’t know
if I can be a father,” Seth said at last, his voice cooler than it had been. “But
I’d like to try, since this might be my only chance.”

“You are a
father. You’re
her
father. Most of the time, I’m terrified about
everything that’s happening. And the fact that things are kind of atypical
between us doesn't make it any clearer. But it doesn’t really matter if we
don’t have a normal, traditional situation here. We’re in it, so we might as
well make the best of it.”

Their daughter
kicked again, as if in response. Erin hoped that she wasn’t planning on moving
around all night, since sometimes the constant movement of the baby made it
hard for her to sleep.

“True.” After a
moment, he added, “But you have more reason to be terrified than I do. I’m
going to be involved, but not to the same extent as you.”

His words were
simple, brisk, impersonal.

Suddenly Erin
understood. She
knew
why Seth had been able to be so calm and rational
about something so big. She knew why Seth was able to remain both distant and
supportive. Why he hadn’t pulled away or protected himself, despite the fears
he’d just half-voiced. Why he hadn’t tried to take control the way she’d
expected him to.

He was trying
to do this halfway. Be a father, be involved in his daughter’s life, but not
take it on completely. He had hopes of still being distant enough to keep his
life as it always was—with just the added benefit of a child to call his own,
but to whom he didn’t have to give anything he didn't want to give.

It was a natural
reaction and an understandable one. Given the situation. Seth wasn’t in control
of this—Erin had made that crystal clear—but he wanted some sort of
involvement.

So he was
trying to limit his emotions accordingly.

Part of her
wished she had the option to do such a thing. It would be so much safer. So
much easier.

But then she felt
her daughter kick again and knew it would be impossible.

She could never
have done this halfway. She was in it completely, even as it was transforming
her entire life.

Maybe it was
different with men—or maybe it was just different with Seth. She didn’t know.

Sighing, Erin
tried to relax. “Do you want to spend the night?” she asked casually, glancing
back at him.

He didn’t
answer immediately. Then finally he said, a little diffidently, “If you don’t
mind, maybe I will.”

“Sure,” she
replied, something both heavy and even more jittery rising up in her chest. “You’re
more than welcome after your performance earlier.”

She felt him
smiling behind her, but the mood wasn’t as light as it had been. Erin wondered
what he was thinking. Wondered if she would ever know.

His hand was
still on her belly, and she wondered if he was planning to move it.

“Does she do
this all night?” he asked, after the baby gave another firm kick.

“Sometimes. She’s
quite an active little creature.”

Seth was silent
for a long time, but then he finally said, “Well, we both know where she gets
that from.”

She laughed and
then got up to go to the bathroom.

When she
returned, Seth scooted over and switched off the lamp, and then he pulled up
the covers over them both.

Neither said
goodnight. They just lay there in the dark.

Erin dozed in
and out of sleep, but she didn’t know whether Seth slept at all.

She did know,
when she got up three times during the night to go to the bathroom, he was
awake each time to ask if everything was all right.

Erin felt like she was going to
die, and it wasn’t even an exaggeration.

She was hit
with a brutal wave of heat, causing her to break out in a new layer of clammy
perspiration. Then she felt a familiar flood of instinctive panic. Then a heavy
heaving of her stomach.

“Oh, God,” she
moaned, her parched lips cracking as she tried to move them.

Erin lifted her
head with the little energy she had left and managed to pull her shoulders up
enough to reach the little, plastic trashcan that had been placed beside her
bed.

She started
retching, in painful, ugly, mostly dry heaves that felt like they ripped her
apart.  She’d emptied her stomach long ago, and all that was left to come up was
the little bit of water she’d tried to drink earlier.

Her large belly
was cumbersome and in the way and made the whole thing even more unbearable. When
she finished, she was drenched with sweat, her nose was running, and tears streamed
down her cheeks.

Her hair stuck
uncomfortably to her wet face, and she had the worst taste in her mouth she
could ever remember. But she couldn’t seem to find the energy to push her hair
back. Could barely even lick her lips.

Then a hand
came out of nowhere to move the trashcan out of the way, and a cool, wet
washcloth materialized to wipe her face. A gentle, male voice drifted into her
foggy mind, saying silly things like, “It’s all right. You’re okay.”

She didn’t
feel
okay, but she was infinitely glad to hear the familiar voice. She collapsed
back onto the bed, shivering so much now that her teeth chattered. “Oh, God,”
she moaned again, trying to curl up into the fetal position but unable to
because of her ungainly belly. “Oh, God.”

“I know, baby,”
the voice said again. “I know.”

She felt so
intensely miserable that she couldn’t help but choke on a few little sobs. She felt
like she was five years old again. “Dad, please, I want it to stop.”

Her father
wiped her face once more, his expression strained and almost helpless. “I wish
I could make it stop.” Since she was shivering, he pulled up some of the
blankets she’d pushed down a few minutes earlier because they'd been making her
too hot. “If you’ll let me take you to the—”

“No,” she
interrupted, taking a few deep breaths and trying to pull herself together. She
was an adult. Not a child. She needed to act like one, no matter how horrible
she felt. “I’m okay. I’ve just got a virus from hell. No reason to go to the
hospital because of a stupid stomach bug.”

She stretched
out on the bed and tried to assess how she felt. She’d been vomiting for what
seemed like ages now, but it really hadn’t been more than a few hours.

“If you can’t
stop throwing up, I’ll have to take you. You can’t get dehydrated. The baby—”

“I know,” she
cut in again, trying not to snap at her dad since he was obviously worried and
worn out. “You know I won’t be so stubborn that I’d hurt the baby. I think I
feel a little better now, after that last time, but if it doesn’t get better,
I’ll go to the emergency room. I promise.”

Her father’s face
relaxed some, and he picked up the trashcan to clean it out again.

Erin squeezed
her eyes shut as he left her.

She didn’t know
what she would have done if he hadn’t been here. They’d been going to have
dinner together this evening, but instead he’d gotten stuck with nurse’s
duties.

Poor thing.

She felt so
weak and exhausted that she could barely move, but her stomach had settled down
a little. Maybe she was feeling better.

Maybe the worst
was over.

It seemed like
the height of injustice that she should have been slammed with this illness
while she was seven months pregnant, after having thrown up for the whole first
trimester. Being pregnant made all of this feel even worse. Fortunately, her
daughter seemed to be sleeping at the moment, although Erin didn’t know how she
could sleep with all that vomiting.

Poor thing.