Having Nathan's Baby by Fran Louise

bed for the first three months of the pregnancy, I was so weak.”
    Nathan stood up and took me by the arm, as though I were precious cargo. His expression was faintly horrified. I was equally alarmed as I contemplated what it would mean if I was forced into bed rest at any stage of this pregnancy. It happened all the time; it could happen to me.
    “I guess congratulations are in order, then?” she said, all smiles.
    I stared at the woman, appalled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tentative smile on Nathan’s face. He looked ready to spill the beans. I blurted, “It’s just a ‘flu bug,” before he could speak. His expression stilled.
    The waitress looked between the two of us with hesitation. “Oh, is it too early to spread the good news?”
    “We’d better get on the road. Thanks for everything,” Nathan said. Giving the woman a broad smile, I took Nathan’s hand again and led him out of the courtyard.
    We were on the other side of the street before I had to stop. I leaned against the wall, still weak from my sickness. I let him test my clammy forehead with his cool palm, but my mind was elsewhere. “I can’t believe you were about to announce to that waitress…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
    Nathan brushed aside my comment with a frown, his arms on my shoulders. “Who cares?”
    “I do!” I yanked away from his grasp. I felt anxious and desperate in the aftermath of the waitress’s keen observation. “You might’ve decided we’re playing happy families, but I haven’t made any decisions yet.” I put my face in my hands, breathing carefully to quash the nausea. “I don’t need anyone forcing my hand. I’m not ready to start announcing things.”
    He walked away from me, his tone grim. “You can’t treat this like it’s a bout of ‘flu indefinitely, you know.”
    I glared at him until my head started spinning again. It deflated my anger. A groan left me. “I can’t do this right now. I need to sit down somewhere quiet.”
    “The car?” He was back at my side, his arm around my shoulders.
    “I want to stay outside, ” I said.
    He looked around. “ There’s a river back there. We crossed the bridge on the way in.” He sighed. Despite whatever emotion was tensing his jaw, he pulled me close to him as he started towards the road again. “It’s pretty near to the market, so I can leave you alone for ten minutes while I pick up supplies. Let you get your head together.”
    I felt tearfully grateful, both for the physical warmth of his body next to mine and the emotional tact. I kept my body rigid and my head high, afraid he’d see how badly I was crumbling inside. Nathan actually wanting to be a part of this baby’s life was a game changer. The whole situation was spiraling out of control. It really was like discovering I was pregnant all over again.
    He left me on a bench close to the water, with promises to be back with the car in fifteen minutes. Alone finally, I exhaled a deep, tremulous breath. My heart rate slowed as I followed the view down to the gurgling water. It looked cold but vital. I breathed carefully, aware of the astringent chill in the air. I forced myself to stay calm, to resist the nausea. My eyes ran over the finely carved wooden hood over the bridge. I wondered how old it was; it looked like it had recently been lovingly restored if the glossy burnished red paint was any indication. I stared at it for a while, numb.
    Somehow my brain switched on again. I felt a stab of panic. Just two months ago I’d been a vital, capable member of society, charging around at fifty miles an hour wherever I went. I’d run the New York marathon and hosted a cocktail party for my friend’s engagement in the same week I’d been informed I was in the final two for the partnership at the firm. Now here I was, cobbled and weak, sitting next to a freezing river in the middle of nowhere. I was leaning on Nathan just to get one foot in front of the other. How had I gone from