“Sorry.” Marta shifted up a bit in her bed as we came into the room, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t do it on purpose, you dork.” I crossed the room and held the hand that didn’t have an IV in it.
“No, but still.” Marta turned instead to the doctor who came in with us, “Lay it on me, Doc, what do I have to do that I need to pretend to complain about but I’ll actually follow to the letter because I really don’t want to end up here again?”
“Well, avoiding stress would be my top advising, Miss Andersson.” Doctor Janet teased, “How close are you to the end of the school year?”
“Two weeks, well, nine actual school days. Four exams. But to be perfectly honest, I’m not that fussed about the exams.” Marta answered quickly.
“You need to take them to graduate,” I reminded her before she could agree to not go to school for the remainder of the year.
“School should be fine, Marta,” Doctor Janet commented, and Marta sagged a little in her seat at being thwarted. “As long as you aren’t running around, and if you stay seated a majority of the time. Try not to stress over the exams themselves, but if you’re not that fussed, you should be okay.”
“Right–of course.” Marta agreed, squeezing my hand. I tried not to laugh. This was all bordering on the surreal.
“We’re going to keep you here over night, just to make sure that everything stays the way we want it to, and so that we can get back some of our longer tests. But you should be good to go home tomorrow, with a list of food to avoid, a couple of vitamins to take regularly, and to really, try to avoid stress and getting over worked until we get a little closer to your time. I’d like to see you back a little more frequently too–just to make sure that everything is going well.” Doctor Janet turned to me with a smile, “Avery, I’m assuming you’re going to want to stay here with her?”
“If I can, yes please.”
Doctor Janet nodded again, “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be back in a minute,” And she left the room.
“I should go too,” Bradley sighed, dropping a kiss to the top of my head, “I know Ma is going to be worried until I get home and tell her you’re doing okay. You’ll give me a call when they’re discharging you and I’ll come back to get you, yeah?”
“Wait, Brad, before you go–I want to get your opinion on something,” Marta called, sitting up properly in her bed now.
“Yes–I mean–you’re not related to him, but no matter what you’re just as much a part of my sons family as Avery and I are, right?”
Bradley blushed, “I mean–if you want me to be.”
“I do–so I want both of your opinions. While this was all happening, I was thinking–what if he’s born now? What do I want to call him if I only have today left to decide on his name–and I was thinking–Arthur. Arthur Martin. Because, well, it sounds good with Andersson, and if you guys get married or do adopt him or whatever, it sounds good with Wilson as well. Arthur Martin Wilson-Andersson, or Andersson-Wilson, or just Wilson. Whatever you guys decide you want to do with your life.”
Marta gave my hand another little squeeze, and I looked up at Bradley, who was now not only red in the face, but starting to look a bit teary eyed as well. “Uh–yeah. Arthur. It’s a good name. I’m glad you think so highly of me Mar–and I’m going to go before I make a complete fool of myself blubbering like an idiot here. I love you both and I’ll see you tomorrow.” and Bradley made a beeline for the door.
“Marta,” I squeezed her hand back, staring at the door, “You made my boyfriend cry.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be that big a deal. I didn’t mean to make him cry.” I turned to look at her, and she did genuinely look concerned about it. She would–she was in the hospital for hours and still had to lay about to make sure her baby would be okay, and she was concerned that she’d made Bradley cry. “He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”
“He’ll be fine. Underneath it all, he’s just a big sap.”
“All right, if you say so.” Marta laid back against her pillows, pulling the blankets over her stomach. “You never told me, Ave. What do you think about Arthur?”
I grinned one of those goofy giddy literally-couldn’t-stop-myself smiles, and reached out to put a hand softly on Marta’s stomach. “Arthur Martin Last Name to Be Determined. I like it.”