I quickly retreated, my eyes clouded with tears, and then I thought, she's actually going through the same mood swingsI've experienced, any pregnantwoman experiences. I even caught her in front of the full-length mirror in her room sighing sadly about her lost figure, the fat in her face. Surely she knew it was only for a very short time and it was not really a result of any pregnancy. Then, during my eighth month, she did something that put nightmares even into my daylight hours. She screamed for me one morning and told me to call Dr Cook.
"We need him right away!" It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her why, but I was too frightened by the look in her face. I hurried to the phone and spoke to the receptionist. She said he was at the hospital, but she would contact him and inform him. I returned to Mommy's bedroom and told her. She was lying on her side, moaning, and waved me off.
A few hours later Dr. Cook arrived, but she was there at the door to greet him before I could get there.
"Please, check her. Bob," she told him, and nodded toward me. "She was having labor pains earlier."
I stood back, astounded, but sat on my bed and waited until he came into my room and examined me.
"You're carrying very low." he said. "But I don't think it's going to be before the fall gestation period. Don't worry. This sort of thing is common for first-time mothers. I'm sure you remember it well. Jackie Lee," he told her, and she nodded.
Outside my room she thanked him profusely, cried, and had him comfort her.
"Now, now." he said. "It's all going well. You'll get through this. Don't worry."
She thanked him again, and he left. Moments later she was at my door.
"You should be very grateful to that man," she said. "He's doing us a great favor, He loved Winston like a brother."
"I know." I said, my face full of questions. "But why did you have me send for him? I didn't have labor pains."
"You could have had. People would expect it. We haven't seen the doctor for a while," she said with growing impatience. "Why do you question what I'm doing? Why aren't you grateful and thankful?"
"I am, but..."
"Just do exactly as I tell you," she snapped, and then she went to eat one of her fattening snacks.
The last month was the worst. Whenever I had a real pain she would have to imitate it. She had become a fanatical method actor. Her screams echoed my own until I swallowed them back. The pain brought tears to my eyes. but I didn't reveal it. She even remarked about how hard the baby was kicking.
"It's difficult to get a good night's rest," she said.
There were times when I thought, maybe she's doing this to be sure I'm really pregnant and it's not just a big tumor. She looked as if she wanted me to confirm every symptom, every action.
And then my water broke. I was standing in the kitchen doorway watching her move with great effort to fill the dishwasher. I screamed, "Mommy!"
She turned, saw what was happening, and went to the phone to called Dr. Cook,
She helped me back to bed. muttering, "Finally, finallythis will be over. Breathe,," she ordered. "Remember the breathing."
She did it to demonstrate. My eyes were on her the whole time. She looked as if she felt every one of my pains, the tightening, the pressure.
Dr. Cook arrived, Mommy wasn't wearing anything under her dress by then. He hurried into my bedroom, told her what to get for him, and bare down on my delivery. It took four hours and left me so exhausted I barely acknowledged that it had finally happened. The baby's cries seemed so far off. but he showed me the infant. It was a boy.
"Fine-looking baby," Dr. Cook said. "I told you not to worry. Jackie Le
e."
"Yes." she said. "He is beautiful.'
"What are you going to name him?" he asked her.
I could barely breathe. He was talking to her as if the baby really was hers. Had everyone gone mad?
"I thought I'd name him after my grandfather. Linden," she said. She looked at me. "Linden Montgomery. We'll return to that surname,
Montgomery. I don't want to even remember the name Scott. How's that sound. Grace?"
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.