Due Time

by Beth Lawrence

Part I

The bed in which I lay was warm and I had no motivation or energy to emerge from it. Something was extremely wrong. I had retired the previous night feeling relaxed and content. Now, as I lay still, I realized I could not will my muscles to function, not even to sit up or to shift my position. Not since Patricia Donleavy's gunshot wound to my arm had I been so utterly devoid of energy, nor had I felt so ill. A wave of nausea swept over me, and I said to myself, "Russell, get up from bed and into the bathroom NOW!"

Once my insides had been purged, I realized my husband's side of the bed was deserted, although the pillows and blankets were in disarray, suggesting that he had not stayed up all night engrossed in some malodorous experiment, as he was wont to do. Feeling weary, my legs barely carried me into the sitting room, where Holmes sat with a cup of coffee. "I was wondering when you would deign to join me," he said, his eyes not leaving the morning newspaper.

"What time is it?" I asked, stifling a yawn.

"About 11:30."

"Good heavens, how sybaritic of me." I collapsed into a large armchair, and accepted the cup of coffee he had poured for me.

"Simply appalling," he agreed, smiling. His expression turned to one of concern as he studied my countenance. "Russell," he asked as he took my hand, "are you alright?"

I put my free hand to my head, which was pounding. "I don't think so, Holmes. I feel so weary, and I can't for the life of me think why."

Holmes thought for a moment, then spoke. "Russell, maybe you should see a doctor."

"Holmes, I don't know-"

"Russell, you are an emancipated, twentieth century woman, and I will not attempt to force you to do anything. However, just as you take greater care of my own infirmities than I do, I have vowed to take care of you when you are ill."

I smiled. "Thank you, Holmes. I appreciate it, but I am not in need of a doctor." I stood, fully intending to bathe and dress, but as soon as I was upright I felt as if my knees had been removed, and a light mist swirled before my eyes. That was the last thing I remembered before I opened my eyes and saw Holmes kneeling beside me, looking terrified.

"Russell! Thank God, I thought you'd never come to."

I sat up slowly, rubbing my head, which I'd knocked against a table. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on with me."

I looked at Holmes. His eyes held worry in them.

"Russell, you must see the doctor."

"Holmes, I-"

My husband held up a protesting hand. "No more excuses. I shall make you an appointment." With that, he went to the telephone, and I went to run myself a bath.

My appointment had been scheduled for noon on the following day. I awoke, in very much that same state I had on previous day, at ten-thirty, much later than my routine would permit. In spite of my unruly stomach, I was able to consume a few slices of toast and a cup of tea at a lovely cafe en route to the doctor's office. I was thankful that my system did not reject the meager repast; I was particularly ravenous this morning.

Having found a rather convenient parking spot at the very door I needed to go to, I hurried up a short flight of stairs to the second floor, where the physician's office was located. I ignored the flutter in my chest at the sight of the gold plate on the door:

-and pushed the door open. The waiting room was very comforting, which was unusual for a medical office. The walls were covered with soft, pastel watercolor paintings, and the furniture looked exceptionally comfortable. I gave my name to the receptionist and waited while keeping an eye on an inviting velvet- covered chair. An elderly man had just come in and he evidently perceived that I coveted that seat. He moved quickly, considering he was bent over a cane, and stole my chair right out from under my nose! And to think that I was raised to believe that old people had manners.

I settled for half of a love seat, the other half occupied by a woman perhaps six years older than me, a girl of about five on her lap, looking rather feverish. I sat and considered the watercolor on the wall opposite me until the receptionist asked for me.

"Miss Russell? Dr. Burke will see you now."

"Thank you." I would have to remember to change the name on my file to my married name... unless my somewhat feminist soul should forbid me.

I was instructed to go into Exam Room 2 and wait for the doctor to appear. I hoisted myself up onto the exam table, and swung my feet nervously. Even now, with a few years past since my last hospital stay, I was still nervous at the thought of doctors, needles and such things. This being my first visit with this doctor complicated matters. However, a routine checkup was nothing to be frightened of.

Moments later, Dr. Burke walked in. A rather average looking man in his late fifties, he had a trusting face and an air of friendliness which relaxed me somewhat. He came forward and shook my hand, a smile on his face. "Mary? I'm Dr. Burke. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine," I answered in return.

"Now," he said, consulting my chart, "what seems to be the problem?"

I sighed, and began to rattle off my complaints. My dizziness, nausea, et cetera. I ended with an account of my fainting spell the morning before.

Burke seemed surprised by that. Certainly his eyebrows were raised, and a strange look came over his face. "Fainted, did you?"

I nodded.

"Well, I doubt it's anything serious. We'll just have look, then."

He took my temperature, my blood pressure, and did various other things to other parts of me. After a minute I was asked to lie back. I did so, and checked for bumps and other abnormalities that might indicate a problem. I watched his face the entire time, to observe any changes in his expression. He frowned when he reached my abdomen, which pained me somewhat. Immediately my alarm went up.

"What? What is it?"

He shook his head. "Oh, nothing serious. I'd like a blood sample, Mary. It won't be painful at all and I can have the results for you in a few minutes."

"Alright, " I answered, somewhat apprehensively. The blood was taken, and I was allowed to dress and wait in the exam room. I sat in a wooden seat which felt as if it had been designed to be the exact opposite of the plush waiting room furniture. The five minutes seemed eternal. Finally, the doctor returned. His expression was unreadable. I leaned forward, a question on my face. After a long moment he said, "Well, Mary, I believe I have discovered your problem."

PART II

I paid my fee at the desk and left, feeling as if I were moving underwater. It was unbelievable. I could not believe it myself. How would I tell Holmes? I had no idea how he would react.

I stepped out onto the street and into my automobile. It was a miracle that I made it home safely. The way I was driving, I should have been in about six accidents, and I would have been the cause of at least three of those.

But I remained unscathed. I was back at the cottage in Sussex, racking my brain as to how to tell my husband my news. I took a walk over the hills to ponder this, but my feet were groaning before I had reached a satisfactory conclusion. Feeling helpless (and a little scared), I returned to the cottage.

The sound of violin music floated from the open windows, as did the odor of Mrs. Hudson's inimitable cooking. I was suddenly seized by a fit of hunger, stronger than the worry which threatened to drive me away. As I reached the door, it opened before me and Holmes and pulled me into his arms. "Russell! I saw the car outside the cottage an hour ago! Where have you been?"

I wanted to remain in his arms forever. But I moved away and answered, "Just went for a walk, to clear my head."

"How was your appointment?"

"Very interesting."

"Is anything wrong?"

I quickly answered, "No, no. It's just, well..."

I turned away from here, so as to not look at his face, but as I opened my eyes I saw Holmes before me, his hands on my shoulders, eyes locked on mine. "Russell, you know something. Now, because your name is tied to mine on a legal document is no reason to tell me all you know, although I admit I will be hurt by such a refusal. If something is bothering you, I should like to help you in anyway I can."

I turned away from him, wringing my hands, digging my wedding ring in to my flesh. Without thinking, I blurted out, "The guest room will have to be redecorated."

I instantly regretted it. It was a completely ridiculous way to tell him and not at all the way I wanted it. However, he did not completely understand me, and I suppose I did not expect him to. "Is someone coming to stay?" he asked, perturbed.

"Oh, yes, I would say so, Holmes. For quite a few years, until the child reaches university age." I closed my eyes and waited for an unknown reaction. When I opened them, Holmes was before me, his hands on my waist. He was smiling, and his eyes were glittering as they did when he knew what was to come.

"Russ, do you mean-"

I grinned. "Yes. I am going to have a baby."

Holmes' eyes widened and glazed over as if he were punch- drunk. After a moment, I said, "Holmes?" There was no response. "Holmes!" I snapped my fingers before him. He shook his head and the vacant stare left this eyes. His grey irises came to rest on me. He smiled, opened and his mouth, and after a minute his voice emerged.

"Oh, Russell, my dear." His arms reached out slowly and encircled me. He held me and I returned the gesture as he said, "My dearest Russell," over and over again. I was crying by then, and when I looked up into his face, tears stood in his eyes as well.

"I didn't know how to tell you- I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"Russell, I am ecstatic! In all the adventures I have experienced in my life, this will surely be the most joyous!"

"Oh, Holmes!" I took his face in his hands and kissed him. His hands found mine and he held them as he led me to the sofa. Once we were seated, he let my hand go and set his palm on my stomach. "You, Russell, are sure to help me live a much fuller life than I had ever thought possible. You and our child."

"Mmmm. Our beautiful daughter."

"Now, Russ, I need a son as an apprentice. There is no need for more women in this house. Females only cause trouble and-"

I put my finger on his lips to silence him. "Don't be an ass, Holmes. Now shut up and kiss me."

And he did.

*Credit for the title goes to Laura Stemle.