Second Chances (49 page)

There had been a couple cases of rickets last year, fortunately all minor. She'd gotten them to up their dairy intake and go outside more often and at least expose their faces for brief periods of time. It had been cold, but the air had been good for them. And she'd put to rest the long held myth that being exposed to the cold meant you are going to get a cold or flu. Or at least, she'd tried.

Fortunately, there was something they could do, two things really. One was to go outside. The recent projects would keep everyone in good health vitamin D wise for some time to come. The problem there was that when they did go out, everyone would be bundled up to the nines in winter gear, protecting their skin from the biting cold.

The second idea was to use the skylights and greenhouses, which came with its own set of problems. They had to be cleared of snow regularly. Not really a problem for her though; Mitch had implemented a plan to clear the snow anyway to prevent the Plexiglas and plastic from collapsing under the weight of the snow. What snow that didn't get shifted off by the steep angle of the roof at any rate.

That led to two other problems, or problem people, she thought as she made her way to tackle her first headache, Hejira. She found her prey in the main greenhouse. She took her scarf and coat off, hung them on pegs, then walked down the aisles smelling the fragrant plant smells as she made her approach.

She explained the situation to Hejira, who became increasingly quiet and withdrawn. She could read the botany student turned director's body language, it screamed distressed and unhappy. Hejira was from Chicago, she'd been in her final year of botany and horticultural studies when the aliens had picked her up. She'd been a fellow Amazon survivor and had hooked up with Ivan and Walter. Walter looked up from what he was doing to note their discussion, but then went back to whatever he was doing.

“Okay, let's hear it,” Sandra said, thrusting her hands in her hip pockets instead of following her instinct to cross her arms. “Out with it.”

“What if they destroy the plants!”

“There will be no playing, no ball throwing. It's going to be a walk through, think of it as a park or...a guided tour!” Sandra said, snapping her fingers. “No touching, just looking!”

“A guided tour?”

“We need to expose people...you know,” Sandra paused thoughtfully. “We could have volunteers help too.” She indicated Ivan, Walter and a few of the other farmers. “Yeah, a few every shift. Different people every day to keep everyone busy and productive,” she said.

“Some hard handed twit manhandling my plants??” the botanist demanded, aghast.

“Everyone has to learn sometime,” Sandra sighed, realizing it wasn't going to as easy as she'd initially thought. “I know not many have a green thumb. I bet you could put them to work moving something heavy, or oh, fixing the sprinklers,” she said.

Hejira looked at her for a long moment with a mixed expression of annoyance and aggravation. Sandra smiled politely to her. “Hey, you can handle it. A couple people every shift, have one of your people who knows what they are doing on shift to keep an eye on them. An hour or so is all they need.”

“Can't we...you said this was for their health. To keep them busy. Isn't there something else they can do? Clean the stables or something?” Hejira demanded.

“They need
sun
exposure. So do I.” Sandra explained patiently, tapping her chest. She made a show of rolling up her sleeves and looking about. “You get yours from the greenhouse, and I thought it would be good for everyone. The skylights we have inside aren't quite enough,” she said.

“I see.”

“It's a few people a day,” Sandra said.

“Rotated.”

“Not everyone will be willing to participate. And of course those who go outside can exempt themselves,” Sandra said soothingly. “But we
need
people to get their vitamin D.”

“Tell them to drink more milk,” the botanist grumped. She looked at Sandra's set expression. “I'm guessing you already talked to Mitch about this?”

The doctor shook her head. “No, I'm going direct to you. We can keep him out of this. I know he's going outside anyway,” Sandra said with a moue.

“So this isn't an edict from on high to the peons,” the botanist said with a sigh. “
Yet
.”

“Come again?” Sandra asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“Just some crap I've been picking up. Never mind,” the botanist said, waving a dismissive hand. “Fine, fine, but they aren't going to lollygag about. If they come to work, they damn well better work even if it's moving bags of fertilizer.” She held up a warning finger. “Or I'll kick them out faster than their heads can spin. With a nice boot impression,” she growled.

“Fair enough,” Sandra said.

“And if anyone kills my plants...”

“Their ass is grass,” Sandra said with a smile.

“Fertilizer
for the grass. But I don't grow grass in my greenhouses. No, I'll think of something appropriate. For them
and
for the people who think stupid shit like this up,” she said, glowering at the Doc.

Sandra opened her mouth, then closed it with a frown. “I'll tell them to be careful.”

“Very
careful,” Hejira growled. She turned in a huff and left.

“Well, that went well,” Sandra sighed, shaking her head. Now she had to deal with Janet, Jean and Jeana the nutritionist about the menu. She could just imagine Jeana's response; the woman rode her vegetarian hobby horse with a death grip and demanded everyone climb on board with her whether they wanted to or not. “One battle at a time,” she muttered.

Chapter 27

To break up the tedium of winter, they planned Sandra and Mitch's wedding ceremony. Mitch wanted something simple, but the girls got involved and it quickly spiraled out of control. Or at least, out of his control as he was left behind.

They planned to do it in shades of white, not for any puritan reasons but because that was the closest color they had for the materials on hand. It also matched the snow.

“Sure you don't want a spring ceremony?” Anne asked plaintively.

“Why?” Sandra asked, cocking an eyebrow. Anne made a face. “Oh, I get it, afraid you'll look like a whale in the wedding photos?” she asked, smiling sympathetically.

“Don't remind me,” Anne groaned, one hand touching her belly. She looked down. “I'd like this one to be a guest, but...”

“I think having a couple in the oven is fine,” Sandra said, grinning at Janet. Janet snorted. “You'll be in good company. I know of a few other ladies who are also knocked up.”

“Good for them.”

“And think of it this way, no embarrassment over the baby needing to breast feed during the ceremony,” Janet teased.

“Oh god,” Anne said, rolling her eyes. “You would bring that up,” she muttered. Janet grinned devilishly at her.

“Something borrowed, something old, something new...that's going to be fun. New we can figure out. Old though...”

“We'll figure it out.”

“Wait, doesn't Christmas come first? Or do you want it on Christmas?” Anne asked.

Sandra frowned thoughtfully. They really hadn't set a date yet. Everyone was busy, all mixed up with various projects going on. They were getting intermittent snow, a blizzard, then a brief warming spell, then dustings of snow as another cold front moved in. A lot of the snow was crusting over into ice. Mitch had his hands full. She shook her head. “No. It's not fair to the kids,” she said.

Anne frowned. “What about Christmas Eve?”

“Oh! A candle lit ceremony!” Janet said, eyes wide and bright.

“That's an idea...” Sandra said thoughtfully. “But I think it's too soon. We need to make all the dresses, plus get the stuff for the kids...” she shook her head. “Cooking...” She looked at Janet. “Don't get me wrong; combining the two events might be a good idea. But...”

“You want it to be your day,” Janet said. Sandra nodded, long fingers busy with the yarn in her hands. “I get it,” she said, looking over to Anne. Anne nodded reluctantly.

“Who knows, you might get lucky and pop beforehand,” Sandra said, smiling.

“Well, if you keep putting it off I might,” Anne laughed, stroking her belly. “Oh!” her eyes widened. “I felt a kick! There it is again!” she said as her belly spasmed. The girls all went over to feel the twins moving about.

------*------

Anne, Janet and Selma taught knitting classes, one of their favorite classes. They had a surprising number of students, all of them female. A lot of it was to keep busy during the long winter or just to sit and gossip, but there was also a practical reason. Everyone needed warm clothes during the winter. Making the clothes was a chore, but the clothes could be gifted when Christmas came around in a couple weeks.

Since they had plenty of material, yarn from alpaca, sheep, goats, Tauntauns, and rayon, they had plenty of material to choose from or even mix and match. With everyone wearing out their clothes with the hard life they had, replacing articles was important. Mitch's plastic snow suits Selma was making were nice, but they weren't for indoor use. Style wasn't as important as practicality Janet found, though some of the teens had high expectations. They started the students on simple things like scarves and braiding, then moved them on to more complex projects as time went on, if they maintained an interest in it.

A month after the aliens left Anne surprised her class by seemingly, and rather embarrassingly wetting her pants. Anne groaned, one hand going to her lap. “Oh crap! You're in labor!” Janet said, realizing right away what had happened as she jumping to her feet. “Get Doc!” she yelled.

Anne winced. “I thought it was indigestion!” she said, rubbing her inflated tummy.

“Are you saying I can't cook?” Janet demanded, at her friend's side to support her.

“No, but I've been rather gassy lately,” Anne said and then groaned. “Oh god. I think they're coming out,” she said, now fearful.

“Not here they aren't,” Janet vowed helping Anne up.

“I can't; I'm too slow,” Anne said apologetically. “I can barely feel my legs,” she said.

Janet muttered a curse and then nodded to a wide-eyed Selma. “Go get Doc or a medic. Bring a wheelchair. Hurry,” she urged.

“On it,” Selma said, rushing out like a scared jack rabbit.

“Is she going to die?” Crystal asked innocently. Janet shot her a dark look but kept moving Anne to the door.

“No, she's fine dear. She's in labor,” Ester said, taking Anne's other side.

They paused when Anne groaned, this time louder. “Oh, they are coming closer together,” Anne groaned, knees buckling.

“Well lady, I'm not playing midwife here,” Janet said. “That's one class we can pass on for now,” she said. Ester, Frances and Rozerita snorted. They heard a clatter of feet as Dora came pounding in with a wheelchair.

“I'm scared,” Anne said. “And cold all of a sudden.”

“You're wet,” Ester said. “That'll do it. You should be fine. Rozerita, Frances, Sarana, and the others all managed. You'll do the same,” she said, patting Anne's arm.

“About time,” Janet grumped, concerned for her friend. The trio eased Anne into the chair and then turned the chair about. “I'll let you know how it goes,” Janet said, hugging Ester briefly.

“You do that,” Ester said. “We're all looking forward to more babies to be all gooey over,” she said, turning a smile to Frances and her little one, then Rozerita. Frances smiled. Crystal nodded as she stroked her sister's cheek.

“Later,” Janet said as the ladies called out good luck. She followed in Dora's wake.

------*------

Anne gave birth to a boy and a girl. The little girl crowned almost before Doc could hand the little boy off to Dora to clear his airways. “They are cute once the red wears off,” Sandra said, smiling tenderly. Anne was worn out but still cradling her two bundles of joy. The girls were taking their turns popping in, all wearing masks. Doc worried about that; she hoped they weren't passing germs around, but then sighed. She'd look into it later. Right now it was done.

“It was fast,” Janet murmured. She'd helped the best she could but she realized right off she was little more than a cheerleader. She'd held Anne's hands as the woman bared down during the delivery. She'd done her best to comfort her. “I'm not going to go through that much pain, am I?” she asked worriedly.

“It depends. I'd planned on giving Anne here an epidural. They sort of took that out of our hands,” Sandra said, puckering her lips in amusement. “Only a couple hours old and already up to mischief.”

“Leave them alone. They've had a tiring first day,” Anne mumbled.

“You have too dear,” Janet said softly, stroking her cheek.

“What bothers me is the early delivery. That was quick.”

“Did you factor in the longer days?” Janet asked, looking up. Doc nodded. Janet frowned thoughtfully. “Premature?”

Doc cocked her head then shook it slowly. “Both are normal weight, seven pounds two ounces for the boy, six pounds eight and a half for the girl.”