Total pages in book: 11
Estimated words: 10287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 51(@200wpm)___ 41(@250wpm)___ 34(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 10287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 51(@200wpm)___ 41(@250wpm)___ 34(@300wpm)
Easy glared at him. “It’s never too early for puns.”
Turning back to Sarah Caleb said, “Honey, he has a limited amount of time to enjoy this. Your big belly, your full, ripe tits.” Sarah blushed furiously. “That sweet little ass that now looks like it’s finally got some cushion to it.” Caleb pointedly looked down at her behind.
Ignoring Caleb’s warning, Easy continued to wax poetic. “See, Slick. We’re men.”
“Manly men,” Caleb added.
“Very manly men,” Easy agreed, grinning. “And we like our women to be women. Now women come in all shapes and sizes-”
“And he’s had one of each,” Caleb replied.
Easy just grinned impossibly wider. “But no woman looks more like a woman than when she’s carrying a baby. And a man likes to see his woman looking like a woman. Like his woman.”
Caleb looked at Sarah. “What the hell are you wearing, anyway? I can’t even see your ass. Your ass is the best part of my day, Slick.”
“Told you!” Chris declared, vindicated. He hit the last step and came further into the living room. “And stop looking at my wife’s ass.”
Caleb smirked. “Yeah. I’m not gonna lie. That’s not a possibility.”
“Her shoes match, at least,” Chris declared.
“Huh?” Easy asked.
Sarah ignored them and headed back into the kitchen. As she stood at the stove, she heard someone coming up behind her. Possibly Chris for round two. Or one of the others trying to horn in on her chili. Either way she balled up her fist and threw her elbow back sharply behind her.
“Ooooh,” Easy said, slapping her well-aimed appendage away before it connected with his nose. “Too slow, Slick.”
She snorted.
“Guess that’s Mommy Brain,” he teased. “Let me have a taste,” he said, jerking his chin at the pot of chili.
“Forget it, it’s not ready.”
“I just want a taste!” he insisted. “How am I going to know how much hot sauce I need?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Fine.”
He grinned and took the wooden spoon from her. He scooped out some chili and took a bite. “God it’s hot!” he spluttered.
“Duh!”
He handed her back the spoon and went to the fridge. “S’good though,” he told her and opened the fridge door. He began rifling through it. “Where’s the hot sauce?”
“It’s in there.”
He frowned and stared into the appliance. “Yeah. Not seeing it, Slick.”
“It’s in there!”
Easy shook his head. “Slick, either Zuul is camping out in your fridge or your Mommy Brain forgot to buy some.”
Sarah sighed, irritated. “Easy,” she snapped. Turning from the stove. “It’s-”
Suddenly everything around her swam. Her vision blurred. She blinked once, twice, three times trying to maintain her balance.
“Slick?” Easy asked, glancing at her.
She put her hand out on the edge of the island to steady herself. Everything was going dark. She was vaguely aware that her other hand had dropped the spoon. Chili sauce splattered all over the floor.
“Sarah!”
Sarah’s hand slipped off the counter and she pitched forward. She did notice that she should have hit the floor, but Easy must have caught her before that.
“Sarah!”
She tried to remain conscious, but her field of vision was closing in. Then blackness.
“CALEB!”
****
Sarah sat in the doctor’s office. All the progress she’d made toward being more comfortable here came crashing down around her. The doctor sat across from her, Chris to her left.
“You have a condition,” he told them. “Preeclampsia. It usually presents itself at or around 20 weeks. It’s an extreme case of high blood pressure. There’s stress on the placenta that hasn’t quite formed properly. Unfortunately, the risks are high. It can be fatal, to both mother and child. As the pregnancy continues and pressure continues to remain high, or climb, there’s a risk of stroke, seizures, liver and kidney damage to the mother. For the baby, preterm delivery is a risk. Also, slow fetal growth.”
Sarah couldn’t speak. In fact she could hardly breathe.
“Is there a treatment?” Chris asked. “Medication or-”
“There are corticosteriod shots that might help lower her pressure and also help the baby’s lungs to develop so that if there is a preterm delivery, she’ll have a better chance of survival.”
The doctor closed the folder he was holding. “Unfortunately,” he said, “Sarah’s case is...one of the more extreme that I’ve seen. Her numbers are very, very high. The longer she stays pregnant, the higher her risk of stroke or organ damage.” He cleared this throat. “I will tell you that other, future pregnancies may not present with this condition. They may be perfectly normal, healthy pregnancies.”
Sarah finally found her voice. “Can the treatments really help us? Will they work?”
The doctor frowned. “There is no reliable treatment for Preeclampsia. All we can do is try. There is only one way to eliminate the risk to you.”
Sarah closed her eyes, willing him not to say it. She was already shaking her head before she heard the word ‘abortion.’