Expecting (1/3)
Title: Expecting
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): PruCan, FrUK, background Ameripan
Warning: Slash, Human AU, Fluff, Gender Bending
Summary: Maddie has to figure out just the right way to tell her family she's having a baby. (De-anon from the hetalia_kink meme.)
Part 1
It was funny how these things happened, because they never would have gone to the hospital if Maddie hadn't sprained her ankle. And Maddie never would have sprained her ankle if she hadn't slipped on the ice. And she wouldn't have slipped if her skates had been tied tight. And her skates would have been nice and snug if the little girl by the snack bar hadn't distracted her with the temper tantrum she had been throwing. And the little girl wouldn't have been throwing a temper tantrum if her mother had simply bought her the ice cream cone that she had demanded. (Although admittedly, it was an absurd request given that the temperatures were below freezing that day.)
As it was, the girl's shrill wails had been so persistently loud that Maddie had found herself staring more at the child's red face than the laces on her skates and her fingers had fumbled dumbly due to the lack of focus. She then stood from the bench a bit too quickly, wanting to tear her gaze and her ears away from the sound that was quickly becoming deafening and in her haste to escape she had slipped on a loose string as soon as she hit the ice. Her ankle had twisted into a funny angle on her way down and Maddie had felt more embarrassed than she could ever remember, because she had been skating practically since she could walk and such careless mistakes were not like her.
Gilbert was at her side in an instant, her knight in shining black armor, as he crouched down onto the ice and asked several times if she was alright. He had noticed the way her left ankle was starting to swell before she did and Maddie reasoned that it was because Gilbert had had a rough childhood and was used to seeing all sorts of injuries. He carried her back to the car and drove, a bit too quickly, straight to the hospital.
They sat in the emergency room for nearly an hour fidgeting in the uncomfortable plastic seats and filling out paper work. They were eventually given a bag of ice to place on what was no doubt a sprain and Gilbert allowed Maddie to use his lap as a foot rest. At last a nurse came by with a wheelchair and Maddie was taken to an exam room.
The nurse and doctor had both asked her several times whether or not there was any chance that she could be pregnant -- a standard procedure when administering young women, she supposed -- but despite her newlywed status, Maddie had repeatedly given them a firm "no." Her periods, always irregular due to her athletic nature, had wandered in and out just as they always did and she was still regularly taking her birth control pill each and every morning. Yet they still requested a blood sample, they still needed a urine sample, and just as Maddie's ankle (sprained as she thought it would be) was about to be wrapped up, she heard the news she wasn't expecting that day.
"Congratulations Mrs. Beilschmidt. You're pregnant."
For a moment Maddie had only stared up at the doctor, wide eyed and confused, before a slight laugh had escaped her lips. She wished that Gilbert had still been in the room instead of down the hall getting them some coffee, because the look on his face would have been nothing short of priceless.
"You must have the wrong Beilschmidt," she told Dr. Héderváry. "I'm not pregnant."
The doctor frowned as she looked at Maddie and then her chart and then Maddie again. "Mrs. Madeleine Beilschmidt?" Dr. Héderváry asked, guessing correctly from the way the smile quickly disappeared off of her face that she had the right woman. "Well we don't get very many 'Beilschmidts' in here, so either this is your chart or this is a one in a million mistake."
"But I... I'm on the pill."
"Well no form of birth control is one hundred percent effective."
"I had my period."
"Light spotting is fairly common during pregnancy."
"I haven't had any cravings or mood swings or... or morning sickness... I haven't gained any weight, eh!"
Dr. Héderváry chuckled and Maddie felt her face flush. That verbal tick always did surface whenever she was feeling stressed. "Everyone experiences pregnancy differently," she explained. "Some women have very little symptoms at all. Some experience morning sickness for all nine months. Consider yourself lucky."
Maddie felt her stomach tighten and suddenly the exam room seemed incredibly big and overwhelming as the reality of the situation began to sink in. She had never imagined herself in this situation, not so soon at least. Motherhood had always been on her list of things to do, but she was only twenty-six and she and Gilbert had just gotten married little more than a year ago. The idea of adding a baby to a household that was still adjusting to the idea of "your things, my things, our things" felt... well, frightening.
Yet at the same time she imagined the baby (possibly) growing inside of her, a perfect little blend of her and Gilbert and she wanted very badly to meet that child.
"We can schedule further testing for you as soon as possible so that you can see how far along you are," Dr. Héderváry suggested helpfully. "In fact, we have a specialist in the building. Perhaps he could fit you in this afternoon."
"No, I..." she began, fumbling awkwardly to form the words as her thoughts bubbled and collided in her head, "I have a doctor." Maddie shifted carefully on the large table causing the paper underneath her to crinkle loudly. "Will my foot effect the baby?" she asked and the word "baby" suddenly felt odd on her tongue.
"No, not really," she assured her. "If anything, this time off your feet may be good for you. Slowing down will give your body some time to adjust to the baby."
Maddie frowned at that. She had never been one to slack off and the idea of being stuck in bed or taking time off from work made her feel sticky and uncomfortable.
"This is a lot to process," Dr. Héderváry began, her tone gentle and understanding as she placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. "Do you need some time alone?"
She nodded and then thought better of it. "I'd like to speak to my husband," she said. "He stepped out to get us some coffee. Do you think you can find him for me?"
"Alright," she smiled. "But just so you know, you should probably cut out the caffeine in the future. It's not good for the baby."
Maddie barely managed a nod, because her throat suddenly felt unbearably tight and the idea that she may not drink coffee again for the next nine or so months added a strange weight to the situation. She wondered what other things she would have to give up and what she would have to start doing in the near future.
Her mind didn't have long to drift, because as soon as Dr. Héderváry reached for the knob, the door was already twisting open. Gilbert stepped inside, balancing two cups of coffee and a bag of powdered doughnuts between his hands and teeth. Dr. Héderváry gave him a withering look as he narrowly missed stepping on her toe, and Gilbert flashed her a smile that was not so much apologetic as it just was. She shook her head and rolled her eyes in annoyance before stepping around him and walking out the door.
"Figured you might be hungry," Gilbert explained as he set the cups down on a nearby table before handing her the bag of doughnuts. She offered him a soft "thanks" as she gently tugged at the plastic seal. Gilbert must have noticed the contemplative look on her face, because his own features grew soft and thoughtful as the silence in the exam room continued to spread. "You okay? Is your ankle that bad?"
"No, I... it's sprained, but..." Maddie frowned, worrying her bottom lip as she considered just how to phrase what she needed to say. "The doctor kinda found something else."
Gilbert's eyes widened and Maddie could practically hear his heart thrumming inside of his chest. "Is it serious?"
"Yes, but... not in that way," she explained, or attempted to at least. Maddie sighed as she motioned for Gilbert to have a seat beside her. He did so, hopping on top of the exam table and crinkling the protective strip of paper lining the cushions in the process. She took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Dr. Héderváry told me that... that I'm... pregnant."
He blinked, his face neither scared nor surprised, but simply confused. "Pregnant?"
She nodded.
"You mean... with a baby?"
Again she nodded as she waited for the gravity of the situation to sink in.
"This is awesome!" he cheered. His eyes were sparkling with glee as he wrapped his arms around Maddie and pressed her against him. She could practically feel the excitement flowing through him, a fact that made Maddie feel guilty for her own lackluster reaction, yet grateful for his infectious mirth. "We're gonna have a baby. We're gonna be parents!"
"Gil," she started as she tried her best not to laugh or else she'd forget what she had to say. "I know it's exciting, but... but our apartment is so small."
"We can move."
"And I don't know if we'll be able to afford this."
"We'll find a way. We won't have to pay for condoms or pills for a while, right?" He pulled away from her then, just far enough so that he could keep one arm around her shoulder while placing a hand against her flat stomach. "We're having a baby," he laughed as if saying those words was the most exciting thing in the world. "You're gonna look so cute pregnant."
Maddie felt her cheeks pink and a slight laugh bubble from her at the compliment. She supposed that Gilbert was right, even if the idea of having a baby was a bit overwhelming, they would find a way to make it work.
--
The next day Maddie made an appointment with her gynecologist, who confirmed that she was indeed pregnant, two months and three weeks pregnant to be precise and Maddie couldn't remember being more embarrassed. She had always felt that she was fairly well in tuned with her body and the idea that something so significant had gone unnoticed for nearly three months made her feel strangely disconnected from herself. Her doctor was quite reassuring, telling her repeatedly that she should be thankful for having such an uneventful first trimester and that she was nearly out of the danger zone without having to suffer through all the anxiety. Maddie supposed that she was grateful for that, but she also felt cheated out of time to allow herself to settle into the whole situation.
Yet at the same time, now that she knew about the baby, Maddie started to notice the changes to her body that had slipped past her. She may not have gained any weight, but she did often find herself hungry. There wasn't a particular food that she craved, but a constant hunger was continually gnawing at her belly (and she supposed that this must have been what her brother Alfred felt everyday). There was also the constant fatigue that she had been feeling for the last month or so, which she had thought for certain was due to the frantic atmosphere at work, but now knew to be caused by her unborn child. The biggest change, however, was probably her chest. Her breasts had become quite tender, perhaps even a bit swollen, and the area around her nipples seemed to have darkened somewhat. She supposed that that alone should have been enough to alert her that something was wrong, but she had written off as her mind playing tricks on her.
Maddie allowed her day to day routine to change in order to accommodate both the baby and her injured foot. While her work hours did not change, the workload was adjusted to accommodate her sprain. She didn't tell anyone at work about the baby, because while she enjoyed her colorful coworkers, it would have felt wrong to tell them before her family. In the evenings she would come straight home and instead of putting in time at the gym or bustling around the kitchen preparing dinner, she napped and watched television or leafed through a magazine. Gilbert, who returned home two hours after Maddie's shift ended, would either bring home take out or scrape together a quick meal of whatever he could think to combine with wurst.
She had felt certain that slowing down would feel like a death sentence, but after a day or two of living in such a laidback manner, Maddie found herself feeling pleasantly comfortable. She supposed the best part of it all was the fact that it was the middle of winter and the idea of coming home to crawl into a pair of sweatpants and a cushy sweater was made all the more enticing by the chill in the air.
Within two weeks Maddie's ankle was mending nicely and she was able to walk around without crutches again. There was now a slight swell in her stomach and although Maddie felt embarrassed to see it, she also felt certain it was a sign that her baby was thriving.
She returned to the gynecologist for her first ultrasound and was happy to have Gilbert there for the event. He had held her hand the entire time, giving her fingers a tight squeeze when the first images of their child appeared on the black and white screen and Maddie had actually felt tears prick at her eyes when they heard their child's heartbeat for the first time. ("This is so awesome," Gilbert had practically gushed. There had been tears in his own eyes, but he had hid them well. "I want this to be my ring tone!") At the end of the appointment the doctor had printed them several pictures (because Gilbert had continually pestered her for more, more, more) and Maddie took the glossy black and white images as a sign that she could now safely share the news with her family.
"So when can I send a copy to my brother?" Gilbert asked that night as they sat curled together on the couch with a blanket draped over their legs. He hadn't put the ultrasound pictures down since they had left the gynecologist's office. "I want to rub in his face that I knocked up my cute wife before he could even sack up and propose to his girlfriend."
"We have to tell my dads first," Maddie reminded him and the thought of her parents was enough to make her insides feel heavy. She hadn't wanted to tell anyone until she felt certain that there was a baby to celebrate (she had read far too many stories about miscarriages that had occurred within the first trimester and the thought of putting herself and her loved ones through that pain made her heart ache) and now that she knew for certain that the baby was healthy and would survive, the concept of spreading the news made her jittery.
"Oh. Right," Gilbert hummed as he grabbed a few pieces of maple candy from the bowl nestled between them. "Your Dad's gonna kill me."
"Gil! Don't be ridiculous. He's not going to kill you."
"Yeah, he'll try to put a curse on me. Your brother's gonna kill me."
"That's not going to happen," she chided as she gave his arm a pinch.
She understood Gilbert's anxiety, because not only was her family overly dramatic, they were also quite overprotective. Maddie supposed it was only natural given that she was the only girl in a household full of men and she had to admire Gilbert for being able to deal with three different men breathing down his neck whenever he did something wrong. Yet her family's attitude towards Gilbert had changed considerably in recent years with Alfred and Dad in particular easing up on their open hostility as it became clearer that Gilbert wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.
"But they might be upset that I took so long to tell them," Maddie sighed before grabbing a piece of maple candy for herself.
"Yeah."
"But, we're allowed to play it safe, right? I mean, I've never been pregnant before."
Gilbert nodded, but continued to remain silent as he focused instead on chewing his sweets.
Maddie sighed and nibbled thoughtfully on her candy. "How should we tell them?" she asked. "A phone call would be too impersonal and would probably upset Papa even more."
"Should we invite them over for dinner?"
"No, our apartment's too small."
"We'll get a new one."
Maddie wanted to point out that getting a new apartment wouldn't be easy with their wages and the poor economy, but she decided not to because Gilbert was just being optimistic and there was nothing wrong with that. "I'll just call them," she said at last. "Papa always invites us over for dinner whenever I call, so I'll just say we'll come over and we'll tell them then."
"That sounds like a good idea," Gilbert said as he pulled the blanket closer around them. "But I still think we should get ready for your French dad to cry and your British dad to punch me in the throat."
Maddie sighed, nodded, and ate another piece of candy.
--
There was a wealth of bills and useless advertisements in the mail today, the sight of which made Francis feel almost silly for actually bothering to bundle himself up to wander out into the snowy drive way just to retrieve them. Winter time always found him feeling so lethargic and while Francis would have blamed it all on his old age, he knew that he hadn't been much better in his younger days. It was always so much nicer to just spend an evening curled up underneath a warm blanket than to venture out into the frigid air and have to worry about wearing too much or too little, slipping on ice, or digging your way out of a deep snow bank. No, the indoors were the best sanctuary during the cold of winter.
A smile began to tug at the corners of his lips as his eyes landed on one particular envelope that hadn't come from any bill collector and was packed with something other than coupons. He calmly walked into the sitting room where he found Arthur just as he'd left him. His needle work sat temporarily forgotten on an empty couch cushion as he focused instead on cradling a cup of warm tea in his hands.
"There is a letter from Alfred," Francis announced as he entered the room.
Arthur looked up at him, one of his heavy brows raised in curiosity before he moved his needle point in order to make room for Francis. "Another one so soon?"
"He must be enjoying the camera we sent him for Christmas," Francis reasoned as he placed the junk mail on the coffee table before sitting down next to his husband on the empty spot on the sofa.
Receiving letters from their son was so much more enjoyable than the impersonal emails he used to send them. Francis was more than grateful that Arthur had nitpicked and chided the boy until he finally broke the habit altogether and started putting pen to paper and sending them an actual letter to accompany his printed pictures.
He ripped open the flap of the envelope and poured out the contents into his waiting hands. A stack of pictures fell out along with a folded slip of paper. Arthur plucked the letter out of his grasp as Francis busied himself flipping through the photographs that Alfred had taken over the past few days. Japan was truly a beautiful country, yet after so much time being abroad the subject matter in Alfred's photos had switched from landmarks and night shots of urban areas to more mundane sights. This current selection featured the sight of snow drifting down from the window of a small apartment, the front of a public school nearly buried in fluffy white mounds, a room full of bright eyed children taking a brief break from their studies, a small white dog chewing on a bright blue bone, and a self portrait of Alfred with one arm wrapped around the shoulder of a young woman who smiled shyly, yet politely, into the camera.
It seemed like ages ago that Alfred had announced his plans to enroll in the overseas teaching program after his college graduation. At the time, the idea of the boy spending one year away from home in a foreign country had made Francis's stomach twist up and had caused both him and Arthur to lose sleep at night, but Alfred had thrilled at the small adventure that teaching abroad would grant him. That one year soon turned to two and those two years to three and before any of them knew it Alfred had fallen in love with the country, the students, and a shy co-worker named Kiku. (Although his letters had never explicitly said as much, Francis could tell just by how frequently Kiku would show up in Alfred's writing and photographs that he was smitten.)
"Oh, how handsome he looks," Francis beamed as he held the glossy picture of Alfred and Kiku gingerly in his hands. "And so happy! That is the face of a man in love."
Arthur rolled his eyes at the comment before pinning Francis with a withering look. "Stop saying things like that. You don't even know if it's true."
"Of course I do! I have a keen sense for these things. Besides, he brought her to Madeleine's wedding. That proves everything."
"Not really," he muttered to himself, because Arthur always had to disagree with him. "Not that I would mind if he did end up with this girl. Any woman who can get Alfred to do his own laundry has my approval."
Francis smiled in agreement. They had only met Kiku once, but she certainly did seem to have a positive effect on Alfred and that, more than anything, made Francis feel better about having his only son living so far away. "I want to read the letter," Francis said after a few moments more of flipping through the stack of photographs. "Let us switch."
"Very well," Arthur grumbled as he handed over the letter and took the pictures from Francis's hands.
Francis smiled to himself as he read:
Dear Dads,
Things are going well here. It's been snowing like crazy every other day. The kids look like little penguins when they run in and out of school and I have to pile on three sweaters just to keep my teeth from chattering. The heater in my apartment broke and the land lord's being real slow about fixing it, so I'm crashing on Kiku's couch until then. (Yeah Pops, her couch.) Her dog, Pochi, wasn't very happy about it at first, but I bribed him with some chew toys. (By the way Dad, even the dog wouldn't eat your scones!)
The pack of students that I got this term are really smart. They're learning English faster than I can teach it. I'm really glad that Kiku and I made the switch to primary school. Everyone said it would be harder, and yeah it kinda is, but the kids are so much more fun.
This might be my last year abroad though. I dunno, I guess I'm getting kinda homesick. I want Kiku to come back with me, but she won't budge. I think the best I'll be able to do is have her spend the summer.
Say hi to Maddie for me.
Your awesome son,
Alfred.
"He is sleeping on her couch?" Francis asked skeptically, because he simply would not believe such a thing.
"That's what he wrote."
He hummed thoughtfully as he read over the short message again. It was so like Alfred to leave his letters so bare and allow the pictures to round things out for him. "Do you think he will come home this year?"
"Who knows? He pulls that 'I'm getting homesick' line every winter. It's just a ploy to get more treats in his care packages."
Francis smiled at the thought, remembering the package he had partially assembled upstairs. Every month he would send Alfred pictures, clothes (because it was so hard for Alfred to find anything that actually fit him in Japan), comic books, and a few other odds and ends to keep him from missing home too dearly. Arthur would always slip in a book or a magazine article that he thought Alfred should read, but they all knew he never did, along with a batch of scones that Alfred likely never ate. Francis wondered now if this most recent letter was a request not for goods, but relationship advice. After all, he was the perfect source for that.
"Perhaps I should send something that Kiku would enjoy," he mused.
"That sounds nice. I suppose I could make some scones for her as well."
Francis said nothing, choosing, just this once, not to take the bait.
--
It was a little after eight when his phone started to ring. The dinner plates had all been washed and dried and Arthur had already made his way upstairs to get ready for bed. He toweled his hands dry and grabbed the phone on its third ring, picking it up without bothering to look at the display.
"Hello?"
"Hi Papa," Madeleine's soft voice greeted his ear. "I hope I'm not bothering you."
"Of course not, ma douce," he assured her as a smile crept onto his lips at the sound of her gentle tone. "But where have you been hiding yourself? You have not called us in nearly three weeks! We were starting to worry that something had happened."
"I'm sorry," she said sheepishly. "Things have been kinda hectic around here lately. I had an accident last week and sprained my ankle."
"Quoi?" he gasped as he nearly dropped the phone in his surprise. "You what? How?"
"I tripped while ice skating."
"Did someone push you?"
"No! Of course not."
"But you are always so graceful on the ice," he said, remembering how Madeleine had never to so much as teetered whenever her skates touched the frozen surface. Even during a hockey match (what had possessed them to allow the gentle little girl to sign up for such a violent sport?) she would hardly ever wobble when another player attempted to tackle or trip her.
"I know. It's kind of a long story," Madeleine said and stopped there. Francis knew right away that there was something vital to the story that she was leaving out and as much as he wanted to know, the urge not to pry was even stronger. He allowed it to go by just this once, because he knew that Madeleine would offer more when she was ready.
"You poor dear," he crooned into the phone. "Do you want us to come over there?"
"No, that's okay," Madeleine dismissed quickly. "My leg is feeling much better now."
"Well, then you must come over here for dinner this Sunday," he insisted, because Francis could not stand the idea of staying away from Madeleine when she was injured. His paternal urges to coddle and protect his dear child were too strong to resist and he knew that Arthur would echo his sentiments. "We received another letter from your brother today and he sent a few pictures along with it."
"Okay. I guess Gilbert and I will be over there at around six."
"Wonderful. I shall see you then, ma douce."
"Okay. Goodnight Papa. Oh, say hi to Daddy for me."
"Of course. Goodnight."
He hung up the phone and stuffed it into his pocket before making his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards the bedroom. He sighed heavily to himself when he reached the top of the steps. Every day the nightly climb was getting a little bit harder, a heavy reminder of his age and the rapid passage of time. Francis had suggested several times that -- with Alfred away and Madeleine married -- they move into a smaller house, because this one was simply too much for them, but Arthur insisted that they stay. Francis supposed that it was due to some far off hope that one day the children would return home, even if that was growing more and more unlikely. While Francis would have loved to see these empty halls filled with the sounds of laughter and eager cries, he still felt that a big impractical house was a silly thing to hold on to.
By the time he entered the bedroom he saw that Arthur had already showered and changed into his night clothes. He walked up to him and offered Arthur's cheek, still warmed from the shower spray, a quick kiss. "I just got a call from Madeleine."
"Oh? How has she been?"
He heaved a heavy sigh before giving his head a sad shake. "The poor dear sprained her ankle."
"What? How?"
"She fell while ice skating."
"But she never falls on the ice."
"That is what I said," Francis sighed with a shrug of his shoulders.
Arthur huffed as he stuffed his used clothes in the hamper in their closet. "This is all Gilbert's fault. Where was he when this happened?"
"Arthur you cannot blame everything on Gilbert," he chided.
"The hell I can't," Arthur grumbled as he began to turn down the bed.
Francis said nothing as he went about stripping out of his own clothes. It was amusing how long it was taking Arthur to warm up to Gilbert. Admittedly, Francis had had his own misgivings about Gilbert when Madeleine had first introduced him to the family. His coarse, cocky demeanor simply did not seem like a good fit to Madeleine's polite, soft spoken nature. Yet as time wore on Francis began to see the mutual love that they had for one another and the way the two brought out the best in each other and realized that they were an oddly perfect match. Arthur on the other hand was still stubbornly looking down his nose at the young man, even if, when Gilbert had come to them and asked for permission to marry Madeleine, Arthur hadn't hesitated too long before giving him his blessing.
"Well, she says that she is feeling better now," he went on, "and they will be coming over for dinner on Sunday."
"Very well then," Arthur sighed as he slipped underneath the sheets. "We can get a good look at that ankle then to make sure that nothing is wrong."
Francis chuckled as he settled in underneath the blanket beside his husband. "If that will help you sleep at night."
Arthur hummed as he made to grab his needle point, but quickly stopped when their current position suddenly sank in on him. "Hey, what the bloody hell are you doing? Go shower!"
"But Arthur, I am already in bed," he purred playfully as he advanced on him. "And it is so warm and toasty under here."
He sighed, heavy and reluctant as Francis began gently kissing at his neck, tugging at the buttons of his nightshirt until they came undone. "You daft old frog," Arthur half grunted, half moaned. "You'll never change."
Francis hummed against Arthur's throat, running his fingers over his now exposed chest. "And you love it."
Next Chapter
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): PruCan, FrUK, background Ameripan
Warning: Slash, Human AU, Fluff, Gender Bending
Summary: Maddie has to figure out just the right way to tell her family she's having a baby. (De-anon from the hetalia_kink meme.)
Part 1
It was funny how these things happened, because they never would have gone to the hospital if Maddie hadn't sprained her ankle. And Maddie never would have sprained her ankle if she hadn't slipped on the ice. And she wouldn't have slipped if her skates had been tied tight. And her skates would have been nice and snug if the little girl by the snack bar hadn't distracted her with the temper tantrum she had been throwing. And the little girl wouldn't have been throwing a temper tantrum if her mother had simply bought her the ice cream cone that she had demanded. (Although admittedly, it was an absurd request given that the temperatures were below freezing that day.)
As it was, the girl's shrill wails had been so persistently loud that Maddie had found herself staring more at the child's red face than the laces on her skates and her fingers had fumbled dumbly due to the lack of focus. She then stood from the bench a bit too quickly, wanting to tear her gaze and her ears away from the sound that was quickly becoming deafening and in her haste to escape she had slipped on a loose string as soon as she hit the ice. Her ankle had twisted into a funny angle on her way down and Maddie had felt more embarrassed than she could ever remember, because she had been skating practically since she could walk and such careless mistakes were not like her.
Gilbert was at her side in an instant, her knight in shining black armor, as he crouched down onto the ice and asked several times if she was alright. He had noticed the way her left ankle was starting to swell before she did and Maddie reasoned that it was because Gilbert had had a rough childhood and was used to seeing all sorts of injuries. He carried her back to the car and drove, a bit too quickly, straight to the hospital.
They sat in the emergency room for nearly an hour fidgeting in the uncomfortable plastic seats and filling out paper work. They were eventually given a bag of ice to place on what was no doubt a sprain and Gilbert allowed Maddie to use his lap as a foot rest. At last a nurse came by with a wheelchair and Maddie was taken to an exam room.
The nurse and doctor had both asked her several times whether or not there was any chance that she could be pregnant -- a standard procedure when administering young women, she supposed -- but despite her newlywed status, Maddie had repeatedly given them a firm "no." Her periods, always irregular due to her athletic nature, had wandered in and out just as they always did and she was still regularly taking her birth control pill each and every morning. Yet they still requested a blood sample, they still needed a urine sample, and just as Maddie's ankle (sprained as she thought it would be) was about to be wrapped up, she heard the news she wasn't expecting that day.
"Congratulations Mrs. Beilschmidt. You're pregnant."
For a moment Maddie had only stared up at the doctor, wide eyed and confused, before a slight laugh had escaped her lips. She wished that Gilbert had still been in the room instead of down the hall getting them some coffee, because the look on his face would have been nothing short of priceless.
"You must have the wrong Beilschmidt," she told Dr. Héderváry. "I'm not pregnant."
The doctor frowned as she looked at Maddie and then her chart and then Maddie again. "Mrs. Madeleine Beilschmidt?" Dr. Héderváry asked, guessing correctly from the way the smile quickly disappeared off of her face that she had the right woman. "Well we don't get very many 'Beilschmidts' in here, so either this is your chart or this is a one in a million mistake."
"But I... I'm on the pill."
"Well no form of birth control is one hundred percent effective."
"I had my period."
"Light spotting is fairly common during pregnancy."
"I haven't had any cravings or mood swings or... or morning sickness... I haven't gained any weight, eh!"
Dr. Héderváry chuckled and Maddie felt her face flush. That verbal tick always did surface whenever she was feeling stressed. "Everyone experiences pregnancy differently," she explained. "Some women have very little symptoms at all. Some experience morning sickness for all nine months. Consider yourself lucky."
Maddie felt her stomach tighten and suddenly the exam room seemed incredibly big and overwhelming as the reality of the situation began to sink in. She had never imagined herself in this situation, not so soon at least. Motherhood had always been on her list of things to do, but she was only twenty-six and she and Gilbert had just gotten married little more than a year ago. The idea of adding a baby to a household that was still adjusting to the idea of "your things, my things, our things" felt... well, frightening.
Yet at the same time she imagined the baby (possibly) growing inside of her, a perfect little blend of her and Gilbert and she wanted very badly to meet that child.
"We can schedule further testing for you as soon as possible so that you can see how far along you are," Dr. Héderváry suggested helpfully. "In fact, we have a specialist in the building. Perhaps he could fit you in this afternoon."
"No, I..." she began, fumbling awkwardly to form the words as her thoughts bubbled and collided in her head, "I have a doctor." Maddie shifted carefully on the large table causing the paper underneath her to crinkle loudly. "Will my foot effect the baby?" she asked and the word "baby" suddenly felt odd on her tongue.
"No, not really," she assured her. "If anything, this time off your feet may be good for you. Slowing down will give your body some time to adjust to the baby."
Maddie frowned at that. She had never been one to slack off and the idea of being stuck in bed or taking time off from work made her feel sticky and uncomfortable.
"This is a lot to process," Dr. Héderváry began, her tone gentle and understanding as she placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. "Do you need some time alone?"
She nodded and then thought better of it. "I'd like to speak to my husband," she said. "He stepped out to get us some coffee. Do you think you can find him for me?"
"Alright," she smiled. "But just so you know, you should probably cut out the caffeine in the future. It's not good for the baby."
Maddie barely managed a nod, because her throat suddenly felt unbearably tight and the idea that she may not drink coffee again for the next nine or so months added a strange weight to the situation. She wondered what other things she would have to give up and what she would have to start doing in the near future.
Her mind didn't have long to drift, because as soon as Dr. Héderváry reached for the knob, the door was already twisting open. Gilbert stepped inside, balancing two cups of coffee and a bag of powdered doughnuts between his hands and teeth. Dr. Héderváry gave him a withering look as he narrowly missed stepping on her toe, and Gilbert flashed her a smile that was not so much apologetic as it just was. She shook her head and rolled her eyes in annoyance before stepping around him and walking out the door.
"Figured you might be hungry," Gilbert explained as he set the cups down on a nearby table before handing her the bag of doughnuts. She offered him a soft "thanks" as she gently tugged at the plastic seal. Gilbert must have noticed the contemplative look on her face, because his own features grew soft and thoughtful as the silence in the exam room continued to spread. "You okay? Is your ankle that bad?"
"No, I... it's sprained, but..." Maddie frowned, worrying her bottom lip as she considered just how to phrase what she needed to say. "The doctor kinda found something else."
Gilbert's eyes widened and Maddie could practically hear his heart thrumming inside of his chest. "Is it serious?"
"Yes, but... not in that way," she explained, or attempted to at least. Maddie sighed as she motioned for Gilbert to have a seat beside her. He did so, hopping on top of the exam table and crinkling the protective strip of paper lining the cushions in the process. She took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Dr. Héderváry told me that... that I'm... pregnant."
He blinked, his face neither scared nor surprised, but simply confused. "Pregnant?"
She nodded.
"You mean... with a baby?"
Again she nodded as she waited for the gravity of the situation to sink in.
"This is awesome!" he cheered. His eyes were sparkling with glee as he wrapped his arms around Maddie and pressed her against him. She could practically feel the excitement flowing through him, a fact that made Maddie feel guilty for her own lackluster reaction, yet grateful for his infectious mirth. "We're gonna have a baby. We're gonna be parents!"
"Gil," she started as she tried her best not to laugh or else she'd forget what she had to say. "I know it's exciting, but... but our apartment is so small."
"We can move."
"And I don't know if we'll be able to afford this."
"We'll find a way. We won't have to pay for condoms or pills for a while, right?" He pulled away from her then, just far enough so that he could keep one arm around her shoulder while placing a hand against her flat stomach. "We're having a baby," he laughed as if saying those words was the most exciting thing in the world. "You're gonna look so cute pregnant."
Maddie felt her cheeks pink and a slight laugh bubble from her at the compliment. She supposed that Gilbert was right, even if the idea of having a baby was a bit overwhelming, they would find a way to make it work.
--
The next day Maddie made an appointment with her gynecologist, who confirmed that she was indeed pregnant, two months and three weeks pregnant to be precise and Maddie couldn't remember being more embarrassed. She had always felt that she was fairly well in tuned with her body and the idea that something so significant had gone unnoticed for nearly three months made her feel strangely disconnected from herself. Her doctor was quite reassuring, telling her repeatedly that she should be thankful for having such an uneventful first trimester and that she was nearly out of the danger zone without having to suffer through all the anxiety. Maddie supposed that she was grateful for that, but she also felt cheated out of time to allow herself to settle into the whole situation.
Yet at the same time, now that she knew about the baby, Maddie started to notice the changes to her body that had slipped past her. She may not have gained any weight, but she did often find herself hungry. There wasn't a particular food that she craved, but a constant hunger was continually gnawing at her belly (and she supposed that this must have been what her brother Alfred felt everyday). There was also the constant fatigue that she had been feeling for the last month or so, which she had thought for certain was due to the frantic atmosphere at work, but now knew to be caused by her unborn child. The biggest change, however, was probably her chest. Her breasts had become quite tender, perhaps even a bit swollen, and the area around her nipples seemed to have darkened somewhat. She supposed that that alone should have been enough to alert her that something was wrong, but she had written off as her mind playing tricks on her.
Maddie allowed her day to day routine to change in order to accommodate both the baby and her injured foot. While her work hours did not change, the workload was adjusted to accommodate her sprain. She didn't tell anyone at work about the baby, because while she enjoyed her colorful coworkers, it would have felt wrong to tell them before her family. In the evenings she would come straight home and instead of putting in time at the gym or bustling around the kitchen preparing dinner, she napped and watched television or leafed through a magazine. Gilbert, who returned home two hours after Maddie's shift ended, would either bring home take out or scrape together a quick meal of whatever he could think to combine with wurst.
She had felt certain that slowing down would feel like a death sentence, but after a day or two of living in such a laidback manner, Maddie found herself feeling pleasantly comfortable. She supposed the best part of it all was the fact that it was the middle of winter and the idea of coming home to crawl into a pair of sweatpants and a cushy sweater was made all the more enticing by the chill in the air.
Within two weeks Maddie's ankle was mending nicely and she was able to walk around without crutches again. There was now a slight swell in her stomach and although Maddie felt embarrassed to see it, she also felt certain it was a sign that her baby was thriving.
She returned to the gynecologist for her first ultrasound and was happy to have Gilbert there for the event. He had held her hand the entire time, giving her fingers a tight squeeze when the first images of their child appeared on the black and white screen and Maddie had actually felt tears prick at her eyes when they heard their child's heartbeat for the first time. ("This is so awesome," Gilbert had practically gushed. There had been tears in his own eyes, but he had hid them well. "I want this to be my ring tone!") At the end of the appointment the doctor had printed them several pictures (because Gilbert had continually pestered her for more, more, more) and Maddie took the glossy black and white images as a sign that she could now safely share the news with her family.
"So when can I send a copy to my brother?" Gilbert asked that night as they sat curled together on the couch with a blanket draped over their legs. He hadn't put the ultrasound pictures down since they had left the gynecologist's office. "I want to rub in his face that I knocked up my cute wife before he could even sack up and propose to his girlfriend."
"We have to tell my dads first," Maddie reminded him and the thought of her parents was enough to make her insides feel heavy. She hadn't wanted to tell anyone until she felt certain that there was a baby to celebrate (she had read far too many stories about miscarriages that had occurred within the first trimester and the thought of putting herself and her loved ones through that pain made her heart ache) and now that she knew for certain that the baby was healthy and would survive, the concept of spreading the news made her jittery.
"Oh. Right," Gilbert hummed as he grabbed a few pieces of maple candy from the bowl nestled between them. "Your Dad's gonna kill me."
"Gil! Don't be ridiculous. He's not going to kill you."
"Yeah, he'll try to put a curse on me. Your brother's gonna kill me."
"That's not going to happen," she chided as she gave his arm a pinch.
She understood Gilbert's anxiety, because not only was her family overly dramatic, they were also quite overprotective. Maddie supposed it was only natural given that she was the only girl in a household full of men and she had to admire Gilbert for being able to deal with three different men breathing down his neck whenever he did something wrong. Yet her family's attitude towards Gilbert had changed considerably in recent years with Alfred and Dad in particular easing up on their open hostility as it became clearer that Gilbert wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.
"But they might be upset that I took so long to tell them," Maddie sighed before grabbing a piece of maple candy for herself.
"Yeah."
"But, we're allowed to play it safe, right? I mean, I've never been pregnant before."
Gilbert nodded, but continued to remain silent as he focused instead on chewing his sweets.
Maddie sighed and nibbled thoughtfully on her candy. "How should we tell them?" she asked. "A phone call would be too impersonal and would probably upset Papa even more."
"Should we invite them over for dinner?"
"No, our apartment's too small."
"We'll get a new one."
Maddie wanted to point out that getting a new apartment wouldn't be easy with their wages and the poor economy, but she decided not to because Gilbert was just being optimistic and there was nothing wrong with that. "I'll just call them," she said at last. "Papa always invites us over for dinner whenever I call, so I'll just say we'll come over and we'll tell them then."
"That sounds like a good idea," Gilbert said as he pulled the blanket closer around them. "But I still think we should get ready for your French dad to cry and your British dad to punch me in the throat."
Maddie sighed, nodded, and ate another piece of candy.
--
There was a wealth of bills and useless advertisements in the mail today, the sight of which made Francis feel almost silly for actually bothering to bundle himself up to wander out into the snowy drive way just to retrieve them. Winter time always found him feeling so lethargic and while Francis would have blamed it all on his old age, he knew that he hadn't been much better in his younger days. It was always so much nicer to just spend an evening curled up underneath a warm blanket than to venture out into the frigid air and have to worry about wearing too much or too little, slipping on ice, or digging your way out of a deep snow bank. No, the indoors were the best sanctuary during the cold of winter.
A smile began to tug at the corners of his lips as his eyes landed on one particular envelope that hadn't come from any bill collector and was packed with something other than coupons. He calmly walked into the sitting room where he found Arthur just as he'd left him. His needle work sat temporarily forgotten on an empty couch cushion as he focused instead on cradling a cup of warm tea in his hands.
"There is a letter from Alfred," Francis announced as he entered the room.
Arthur looked up at him, one of his heavy brows raised in curiosity before he moved his needle point in order to make room for Francis. "Another one so soon?"
"He must be enjoying the camera we sent him for Christmas," Francis reasoned as he placed the junk mail on the coffee table before sitting down next to his husband on the empty spot on the sofa.
Receiving letters from their son was so much more enjoyable than the impersonal emails he used to send them. Francis was more than grateful that Arthur had nitpicked and chided the boy until he finally broke the habit altogether and started putting pen to paper and sending them an actual letter to accompany his printed pictures.
He ripped open the flap of the envelope and poured out the contents into his waiting hands. A stack of pictures fell out along with a folded slip of paper. Arthur plucked the letter out of his grasp as Francis busied himself flipping through the photographs that Alfred had taken over the past few days. Japan was truly a beautiful country, yet after so much time being abroad the subject matter in Alfred's photos had switched from landmarks and night shots of urban areas to more mundane sights. This current selection featured the sight of snow drifting down from the window of a small apartment, the front of a public school nearly buried in fluffy white mounds, a room full of bright eyed children taking a brief break from their studies, a small white dog chewing on a bright blue bone, and a self portrait of Alfred with one arm wrapped around the shoulder of a young woman who smiled shyly, yet politely, into the camera.
It seemed like ages ago that Alfred had announced his plans to enroll in the overseas teaching program after his college graduation. At the time, the idea of the boy spending one year away from home in a foreign country had made Francis's stomach twist up and had caused both him and Arthur to lose sleep at night, but Alfred had thrilled at the small adventure that teaching abroad would grant him. That one year soon turned to two and those two years to three and before any of them knew it Alfred had fallen in love with the country, the students, and a shy co-worker named Kiku. (Although his letters had never explicitly said as much, Francis could tell just by how frequently Kiku would show up in Alfred's writing and photographs that he was smitten.)
"Oh, how handsome he looks," Francis beamed as he held the glossy picture of Alfred and Kiku gingerly in his hands. "And so happy! That is the face of a man in love."
Arthur rolled his eyes at the comment before pinning Francis with a withering look. "Stop saying things like that. You don't even know if it's true."
"Of course I do! I have a keen sense for these things. Besides, he brought her to Madeleine's wedding. That proves everything."
"Not really," he muttered to himself, because Arthur always had to disagree with him. "Not that I would mind if he did end up with this girl. Any woman who can get Alfred to do his own laundry has my approval."
Francis smiled in agreement. They had only met Kiku once, but she certainly did seem to have a positive effect on Alfred and that, more than anything, made Francis feel better about having his only son living so far away. "I want to read the letter," Francis said after a few moments more of flipping through the stack of photographs. "Let us switch."
"Very well," Arthur grumbled as he handed over the letter and took the pictures from Francis's hands.
Francis smiled to himself as he read:
Dear Dads,
Things are going well here. It's been snowing like crazy every other day. The kids look like little penguins when they run in and out of school and I have to pile on three sweaters just to keep my teeth from chattering. The heater in my apartment broke and the land lord's being real slow about fixing it, so I'm crashing on Kiku's couch until then. (Yeah Pops, her couch.) Her dog, Pochi, wasn't very happy about it at first, but I bribed him with some chew toys. (By the way Dad, even the dog wouldn't eat your scones!)
The pack of students that I got this term are really smart. They're learning English faster than I can teach it. I'm really glad that Kiku and I made the switch to primary school. Everyone said it would be harder, and yeah it kinda is, but the kids are so much more fun.
This might be my last year abroad though. I dunno, I guess I'm getting kinda homesick. I want Kiku to come back with me, but she won't budge. I think the best I'll be able to do is have her spend the summer.
Say hi to Maddie for me.
Your awesome son,
Alfred.
"He is sleeping on her couch?" Francis asked skeptically, because he simply would not believe such a thing.
"That's what he wrote."
He hummed thoughtfully as he read over the short message again. It was so like Alfred to leave his letters so bare and allow the pictures to round things out for him. "Do you think he will come home this year?"
"Who knows? He pulls that 'I'm getting homesick' line every winter. It's just a ploy to get more treats in his care packages."
Francis smiled at the thought, remembering the package he had partially assembled upstairs. Every month he would send Alfred pictures, clothes (because it was so hard for Alfred to find anything that actually fit him in Japan), comic books, and a few other odds and ends to keep him from missing home too dearly. Arthur would always slip in a book or a magazine article that he thought Alfred should read, but they all knew he never did, along with a batch of scones that Alfred likely never ate. Francis wondered now if this most recent letter was a request not for goods, but relationship advice. After all, he was the perfect source for that.
"Perhaps I should send something that Kiku would enjoy," he mused.
"That sounds nice. I suppose I could make some scones for her as well."
Francis said nothing, choosing, just this once, not to take the bait.
--
It was a little after eight when his phone started to ring. The dinner plates had all been washed and dried and Arthur had already made his way upstairs to get ready for bed. He toweled his hands dry and grabbed the phone on its third ring, picking it up without bothering to look at the display.
"Hello?"
"Hi Papa," Madeleine's soft voice greeted his ear. "I hope I'm not bothering you."
"Of course not, ma douce," he assured her as a smile crept onto his lips at the sound of her gentle tone. "But where have you been hiding yourself? You have not called us in nearly three weeks! We were starting to worry that something had happened."
"I'm sorry," she said sheepishly. "Things have been kinda hectic around here lately. I had an accident last week and sprained my ankle."
"Quoi?" he gasped as he nearly dropped the phone in his surprise. "You what? How?"
"I tripped while ice skating."
"Did someone push you?"
"No! Of course not."
"But you are always so graceful on the ice," he said, remembering how Madeleine had never to so much as teetered whenever her skates touched the frozen surface. Even during a hockey match (what had possessed them to allow the gentle little girl to sign up for such a violent sport?) she would hardly ever wobble when another player attempted to tackle or trip her.
"I know. It's kind of a long story," Madeleine said and stopped there. Francis knew right away that there was something vital to the story that she was leaving out and as much as he wanted to know, the urge not to pry was even stronger. He allowed it to go by just this once, because he knew that Madeleine would offer more when she was ready.
"You poor dear," he crooned into the phone. "Do you want us to come over there?"
"No, that's okay," Madeleine dismissed quickly. "My leg is feeling much better now."
"Well, then you must come over here for dinner this Sunday," he insisted, because Francis could not stand the idea of staying away from Madeleine when she was injured. His paternal urges to coddle and protect his dear child were too strong to resist and he knew that Arthur would echo his sentiments. "We received another letter from your brother today and he sent a few pictures along with it."
"Okay. I guess Gilbert and I will be over there at around six."
"Wonderful. I shall see you then, ma douce."
"Okay. Goodnight Papa. Oh, say hi to Daddy for me."
"Of course. Goodnight."
He hung up the phone and stuffed it into his pocket before making his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards the bedroom. He sighed heavily to himself when he reached the top of the steps. Every day the nightly climb was getting a little bit harder, a heavy reminder of his age and the rapid passage of time. Francis had suggested several times that -- with Alfred away and Madeleine married -- they move into a smaller house, because this one was simply too much for them, but Arthur insisted that they stay. Francis supposed that it was due to some far off hope that one day the children would return home, even if that was growing more and more unlikely. While Francis would have loved to see these empty halls filled with the sounds of laughter and eager cries, he still felt that a big impractical house was a silly thing to hold on to.
By the time he entered the bedroom he saw that Arthur had already showered and changed into his night clothes. He walked up to him and offered Arthur's cheek, still warmed from the shower spray, a quick kiss. "I just got a call from Madeleine."
"Oh? How has she been?"
He heaved a heavy sigh before giving his head a sad shake. "The poor dear sprained her ankle."
"What? How?"
"She fell while ice skating."
"But she never falls on the ice."
"That is what I said," Francis sighed with a shrug of his shoulders.
Arthur huffed as he stuffed his used clothes in the hamper in their closet. "This is all Gilbert's fault. Where was he when this happened?"
"Arthur you cannot blame everything on Gilbert," he chided.
"The hell I can't," Arthur grumbled as he began to turn down the bed.
Francis said nothing as he went about stripping out of his own clothes. It was amusing how long it was taking Arthur to warm up to Gilbert. Admittedly, Francis had had his own misgivings about Gilbert when Madeleine had first introduced him to the family. His coarse, cocky demeanor simply did not seem like a good fit to Madeleine's polite, soft spoken nature. Yet as time wore on Francis began to see the mutual love that they had for one another and the way the two brought out the best in each other and realized that they were an oddly perfect match. Arthur on the other hand was still stubbornly looking down his nose at the young man, even if, when Gilbert had come to them and asked for permission to marry Madeleine, Arthur hadn't hesitated too long before giving him his blessing.
"Well, she says that she is feeling better now," he went on, "and they will be coming over for dinner on Sunday."
"Very well then," Arthur sighed as he slipped underneath the sheets. "We can get a good look at that ankle then to make sure that nothing is wrong."
Francis chuckled as he settled in underneath the blanket beside his husband. "If that will help you sleep at night."
Arthur hummed as he made to grab his needle point, but quickly stopped when their current position suddenly sank in on him. "Hey, what the bloody hell are you doing? Go shower!"
"But Arthur, I am already in bed," he purred playfully as he advanced on him. "And it is so warm and toasty under here."
He sighed, heavy and reluctant as Francis began gently kissing at his neck, tugging at the buttons of his nightshirt until they came undone. "You daft old frog," Arthur half grunted, half moaned. "You'll never change."
Francis hummed against Arthur's throat, running his fingers over his now exposed chest. "And you love it."
Next Chapter