Air (30 page)
She spoke again in her soft voice, then laid one hand on my belly.
Arianna leaned forward, whispering in my ear, "The earth element above all values fertility and the cycle of life. Giving back to the earth what once was taken, and celebrating new life."
The Chinese Shade smiled.
I smiled back. "Thank you."
She bowed, then gracefully returned to her gaseous form.
Reunion
My stomach was the topic of the day. Once the doctor, Alex, and I had made it to the airport in Jakarta, I was drawing all sorts of attention. I was a white, unveiled woman in a Muslim country being escorted by two men. I was almost eight months pregnant, and I was in a bad enough mood to enter a staring contest with anyone who dared look my way. Which was pretty much everyone.
"Baby in there?" the attendant had the nerve to ask as we handed him our passports and tickets to board the plane.
"No. I'm smuggling a basketball."
Temporary confusion lit his face.
I didn't back down for a moment, "You know, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, dunk, swish, layup?"
"I sorry, I no understand."
"Ah. Not as good with the English language as we thought we were, I see."
Alex pushed me aside, trying to appease the upset attendant. I didn't care if we never got on that plane. I hated to admit it, but I was nervous to see Micah.
I turned to look at the plane that would carry me straight to Madagascar, and to him. Maybe I could create some unfortunate weather. My protruding stomach brushed against the doctor's arm. He gave me a dirty look.
Target acquired, and…fire.
"You know, you don't seem especially sympathetic toward pregnant women."
He rubbed at his temples. "Truth be told, I perform far more abortions than I do deliveries."
My shock nearly snapped me out of my bad mood. "What?"
He spared a glance at Alex, who was now challenging what was and wasn’t airline policy regarding third trimester women. He looked back at me. "Many find what you do to be a difficult life. They either can't be bothered with a baby, don't want to risk watching the Seven dispatch of their child, or wholly believe they are making an ultimate sacrifice to control population numbers."
"You mean like ‘one less’?" I tested him. I don't know why it had never occurred to me that he could be another one of Shawn's implants until now.
He rubbed his temples again. "Huh? Listen, I don't encourage them one way or another; I just do what I'm asked. I don't get paid enough for it anyway."
I nodded. "Thus the poker habit."
"Hmph," was his only response.
"How many children have you delivered, exactly?"
He crossed his arms, defending his professional competency. "Enough."
"How. Many." I crossed my arms right back.
He considered me for a moment, probably wondering if he should tell me the truth. He really didn't know the extent of my magical powers; never bothered to ask. He was, in fact, as uninterested in me as a person could get – disturbingly so.
Finally, he gave in. He dropped his arms and his shoulders sagged. It wasn't even worth the fight to him. "Two. One baby died, the other survived. But the mother didn't."
I scoffed. "Wow. Just wow."
"I miss Vegas. Damn these Muslim countries!" With that, he turned his back, obviously done with the conversation.
Alex, having won the argument with the airline, picked up my carry-on bag. "Come on, guys! Thanks to Buddha belly here we all got first class seats."
The doctor blew past Alex, bumping shoulders with him as he passed. "Get me out of here. And I will most likely not be returning." His loud statement echoed down the long hallway to the plane.
Alex narrowed his eyes at me. "What did you say to him?"
"Don't look at me; he's the one with the gambling problem."
We followed the doctor down the hall toward the plane, still ranting about the country. I silently wondered if he had already started a gambling pool on my delivery date. Then cursed, because if he had, he might very well be inclined to cheat.
* * *
Our connecting flight from Madagascar to Reunion almost left without us. I hardly had the chance to see the airport. People, bags, and cultural trinkets on display whizzed by in our rush to catch the next flight. The airport in Reunion didn’t make up for it. It could hardly be called an airport at all. The landing strip wasn't even paved. The bumpy landing prompted an emergency run to the bathroom. Where a flight attendant on a proper flight might have forced me down, here I only had chickens and toddlers lining the aisle to contend with. By the time I emerged, everyone had debarked, leaving behind several feathers and the God-awful stench of – I turned right back around into the bathroom.
Things were quiet when I came out a second time, and Alex and the doctor both looked more than mildly annoyed. I was getting used to that. I stumbled my way to the front of plane, my stomach knocking against chairs in the narrow aisle.
Stepping into the humid air, I spotted Micah and Susan immediately. They looked beautiful. They were tan and fit, with matching green eyes that almost took my breath away even from a distance. I was the antithesis; large and frumpy, with disheveled hair – and to top it all off, my shirt smelled of vomit. We made our way down the steep stairs, the doctor in front of me, holding one of my hands and bracing the whole way down to catch me should I fall. Now he cared. Quite the attitude change when his boss was present. Alex was behind me, keeping a tight grip on the back of my shirt.
The attendants were unloading luggage from underneath the plane. I spotted my large, black duffel bag and silently willed them to be careful with it. My life literally depended on that bag.
Micah walked forward as we came down the last few steps, and I felt the sudden urge to run. He couldn't see me like this; why would he want anyone that looked like this? Especially when he was so used to seeing beautiful women like Susan. Not that she was competition, of course, but she probably, almost certainly, raised his expectations.
Inevitably, Alex's grip on the back of my shirt tightened. He couldn't read my thoughts, but he absolutely knew me well enough by now to know given the choice I'd run away. Bastard.
As soon as our feet hit the ground, the doctor began talking, "Well, Micah, I've kept her in good health for—"
Micah shoved past him, taking me into his arms right then and there, planting a long, slow kiss on my lips, making good use of both of our tongues. Sparks zipped through my already overheated body, but I didn't mind. Every part of me needed this. The doctors 'ahems' barely even registered.
Eventually his mouth moved from my lips to my forehead, and he planted kisses there while squeezing me tightly. As soon as he stopped kissing, Susan pushed him out of the way and one hug was replaced by another.
Hers was quick. She stepped away. "You smell like throw up."
"Thanks for noticing."
She looked me over critically. "And you've been making your own clothes."
I looked down at the sorry threads that barely held my outfit together.
Micah came to my defense. "She looks beautiful."
I blushed. He wasn't looking at my clothes.
"It doesn't matter." She stepped forward again and put her hand on my stomach. Susan pulled back sharply, and glared at the doctor. "Are you aware her amniotic fluid is low?"
He immediately crossed his arms and glowered at her. "Of course, I've been monitoring it. It is not low enough yet to warrant any type of intervention, we just need keep checking it," he huffed.
It was the first I had heard about it. I turned to Micah. "We need to have a serious talk about your hiring practices."
The doctor’s disgruntled look turned shell-shocked. "Well, I never...you don't have any right..."
I raised my eyebrow, daring him to challenge me. With the information he shared in Indonesia, he had no leg to stand on.
He puffed out his chest and pulled his shoulders back. "You know what? I don't have to take this. I quit."
He turned on his heel, walked over the pile of luggage, grabbed his two large bags and wheeled them toward the airport. Micah and Alex started after him, but I grabbed both their arms. "No. We don’t need him. He is not good enough for me or the baby."
Susan piped up, "She's right. I never did trust him. We can find someone else."
"And if we can't?" Micah asked.
"Then we can handle it ourselves." Susan squared her shoulders with his, pulling herself up to her full height.
I joined her. This was not up for negotiation.
Micah turned, watching the doctor enter the airport. "Goddamn it." He scratched his head in agitation, then glared at me. "Two minutes, Kaitlyn. Two minutes. After months apart, I finally see you, and in the first two minutes you have all my plans turned upside down." He sighed, rubbing his chin in thought. "I love you."
My eyes widened. Bracing for another fight, I hadn’t expected that. Before I had a chance to respond, he was down on one knee, producing a small box. "Will you marry me?"
Susan hissed at her brother, "Not here, you dolt! On the tarmac of an airport? Could you be any less romantic?"
He didn't flinch at her insults. He looked at me intensely, waiting for an answer.
I stammered, "It hasn't been a year and day."
"I don’t care. I know what I want." He rose, removed the ring from the box, and placed it on my left ring finger. "Don't you?"
I nodded, not bothering to hold back the tears. The bathroom truck was emptying contents from the plane. The air reeked of gas as the fuel truck operator made a sloppy time of his work. The noise from a jet taking off caused us to cover our ears. Susan was wrong, I couldn't possibly think of a more romantic place.
The Competition
Reunion is a small island in the Indian Ocean that sits to the east of Madagascar. The territory is an overseas region of France, but settled by Africans, Chinese, Malays, and Indians, giving the island an ethnic mix that would rival the United Nations. Reunion holds the record for the most rainfall in a 24-hour period ever recorded on Earth.
Today was sunny and bright. The only evidence of heavy rainfall was the lush tropical life all around the island. It wasn't an overly-touristy, mega-resort kind of place. Instead, it was one of the most diverse areas I had ever seen. A rugged interior, full of majestic mountains gave way to the dozens of miles of warm, sandy beaches.
We drove past a group of young, muscular men toting their surfboards and coolers to the beach. Teenage girls wearing less-than-string bikinis followed closely after.
"Um, I don't think I'll be going anywhere near the beaches." I looked longingly at the locals, soaking up the sun with every inch of skin. My skin at the moment was full of stretch marks and in no condition for a swimsuit.
