CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Tory walked into the bedroom and stopped to watch Reese finish getting dressed.
Reese glanced over and caught the contemplative expression on Tory’s face. “What are you thinking?”
“How much I love you.”
“Still, huh?” Reese’s blue eyes danced as she crossed the bedroom and slid her arms around Tory’s waist. Her lips were soft, her kiss gentle. A moment later she asked, “You okay about today?”
“Just a little bit nervous,” Tory confessed.
“Since you always tell me that everything is just routine,” Reese reminded her gently, “I never know whether I should worry or not.”
“Well, an amniocentesis is routine, and thousands are done every day,” Tory admitted as she lightly kissed Reese’s jaw. “Let’s go to the airport.”
Two hours later, Reese and Tory arrived at Boston City Hospital. When they reached the outpatient obstetrical clinic, they were greeted by a happy cry of welcome.
“Tory!”
“Oh my god, Cath! You didn’t have to come in just for this,” Tory exclaimed, gathering her sister into a tight hug.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks, and this was a great excuse to leave the kids with Danny for the day.” Tory’s younger sister, a fairer-haired, blue-eyed version of Tory, threw both arms around the pregnant woman and kissed her vigorously on both cheeks. “This is so exciting. I talked to Mom and Dad last night, and they can’t stop talking about how much they’re looking forward to another grandchild.”
Tory slipped her arm around Reese’s waist and leaned into her as Reese draped an arm over her shoulder. “I wish they lived closer so we could see them more often.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve already been talking to Mom about getting plane tickets so they can come down after the baby is born.”
“I’ll be right back,” Tory said. “I should go sign in and let them know I’m here.”
Cath watched her walk away and then tilted her head and studied Reese. “How’re you doing?”
“Pretty well.”
“Nervous?”
Reese nodded.
“Are you going in with her?”
“As long as it’s okay with Wendy,” Reese replied. The very thought of something being done to Tory while she waited outside in the hall was enough to make her stomach cramp. She didn’t get this nervous when she was facing down a drunk with a knife.
“You know,” Cath said, taking Reese’s hand, “my husband almost passed out when I had my last one. I think it’s a normal spousal response.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Reese confided softly. “Because I feel that way half the time.”
Cath patted Reese’s cheek. “You know, honey, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to her.”
Reese glanced across the room to where Tory stood at the counter, filling out paperwork. Even from here, Reese could clearly see the swell of her abdomen beneath the loose pullover she wore. Tory’s cheeks were brushed a delicate rose, and everything about her seemed fresh and alive…miraculous. When Reese spoke, her voice was husky. “I’m the lucky one.”
Tory rejoined them and announced, “Wendy is running on time, so it shouldn’t be more than half an hour.”
They settled in to wait, Tory and Cath catching up on family news while Reese held Tory’s hand and tried to relax.
“I just want to make sure the samples get off to the lab,” Wendy Deutsch said as she applied a small Band-Aid to the puncture wound in Tory’s abdomen just below her umbilicus. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“You okay, sweetheart?” Tory asked, turning her head to look at Reese, who sat by her side on a tall stainless steel stool. Reese’s hair was damp with sweat.
“Fine.”
“I couldn’t really talk during the procedure,” Tory apologized.
“That’s okay, love.” Reese brushed her fingers over Tory’s cheek. “I’m pretty sure you weren’t supposed to be talking. Wendy explained everything, and I saw as much as I needed to.”
As a matter of fact, she’d barely remembered to breathe as she watched Wendy place a long needle through Tory’s abdomen and into her uterus. She’d been able to follow the path of the needle perfectly well on the ultrasound monitor. It seemed to pass within millimeters of the baby’s head, which at sixteen weeks, even she could make out without assistance. The whole thing was over in a matter of minutes, but it had felt like an eternity.
“How’re you feeling?” Reese asked, edging closer so that she could take Tory’s hand.
“Fine. Just a little cramping.”
“Is that normal?”
“Perfectly,” Tory said with a small smile. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, Wendy’s the best.”
At that moment, the obstetrician returned and pulled up another stool next to Reese’s.
“That went fine.” She had a chart in her hand which she opened and perused for a few seconds. Then she met Tory’s eyes. “Your blood pressure’s been steadily increasing.”
“I know.”
“Are you having any other symptoms?”
“No.” Tory felt Reese’s grip on her hand tighten, and she looked away from her doctor to smile reassuringly at her lover. Softly, she whispered, “It’s okay.”
“No extremity swelling, no visual problems?”
“None.”
“We’re not at the point where I’d call this preeclampsia,” Wendy said seriously, “but you need to be alert for the early signs, Tory.”
“I have been.”
“What’s going on?” Reese asked sharply.
Wendy focused on Reese. “Preeclampsia is a condition which affects some women during pregnancy, particularly women who are nulliparous, meaning they have not previously been pregnant. It’s associated with hypertension and, in a small percentage, with other symptoms such as persistent headache, visual abnormalities, abdominal pain, and changes in blood chemistries.”
“Is it serious?”
“Reese…” Tory protested gently.
“No. I want to know.” Reese’s eyes were locked on Wendy’s, and her voice was a command. “Go ahead, Doctor.”
“It can be, if it progresses. There can be severe hypertension with alteration in renal and liver function and other problems. But…”
“Is it a risk to the baby?” Reese asked.
Wendy continued in a steady, calm tone. “Sometimes if the maternal-fetal blood flow is compromised, there can be intrauterine growth restriction.”
“And to Tory?” Reese’s voice was even and strong, but there was a roaring in her head that sounded like gunfire.
“Only if the condition progresses,” Wendy said. “But we’re nowhere near that point, Reese. I’m not even willing to call it preeclampsia at this point, but we need to be vigilant.”
“I’m already taking my blood pressure three times a day,” Tory said quietly. “The diastolic has only risen ten points above my baseline. I’ve checked my urine daily for protein. There hasn’t been any.”
“I’ll need to see you every two weeks,” Wendy said. “Keep monitoring your BP and urine the way you’ve been doing, and add a fingerstick hemoglobin every ten days. Call me at the slightest sign of symptoms. Even if you’re not sure.”
“What about working?” Reese questioned. “Is it safe?”
Wendy nodded. “Reasonable hours, yes, as long as we don’t see any worsening.”
“Don’t worry,” Tory said. “I’ll be careful.”
“Good. Then I’m satisfied.” Wendy stood and smiled at them both. “I’ll call you with the lab results as soon as I have them.”
Reese was silent as Tory dressed.
“There’s nothing wrong, sweetheart,” Tory said as she took Reese’s hand.
“I know,” Reese said with a smile, but her eyes were dark. She drew a long breath and straightened her shoulders. “Is it okay for you to eat now?”
“It had better be,” Tory said with a laugh. “First of all, I’m starving. And I’m sure Cath expects us all to go to lunch.”
Reese slid her arm around Tory’s waist and kissed her temple lightly, ignoring the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Then let’s not keep her waiting.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
May, Provincetown, MA
“Things will start jumping around here at the end of the week,” Reese remarked at a little before 6:00 a.m. as she poured the French roast from the carafe into a travel mug. She was already in uniform, dressed for work. As always, the creases in her shirt and pants were knife-edge sharp, the knot below her buttoned collar perfectly squared, her leather belt a polished black. Her weapon was nestled in an equally highly-shined holster on her right hip.
“Uh-huh.”
Reese smiled as Tory, still in the T-shirt she usually slept in—and not much else—crossed the living room. Her normally energetic lover looked sleepy and out of sorts. “Want some juice?”
“No,” Tory snarled, settling a hip onto a stool at the breakfast counter. “I want some coffee.”
“I’ll make decaf.”
“I don’t want decaf. I want real …” Abruptly she quieted as her face grew pale.
“Bagel? I can toast—”
“Oh god…” Tory bolted off the stool.
Heart in her throat, Reese watched Tory rush for the bathroom. After a moment’s hesitation, she followed, her insides roiling. This hasn’t happened in weeks. Jesus, god…what’s wrong?
“Tor? Love…can I get you anything?” Reese circled her palm aimlessly over Tory’s back as the other woman cradled her head on her arms, her body bent over the sink. Reese’s heart lurched as she felt Tory tremble. “Honey?”
“No,” Tory gasped, not looking at her. “I’m fine. Near miss—no eruptions.”
“Water?”
“Yes, fine. Good.” With a shaky sigh, Tory straightened up and accepted the glass her worried lover filled and handed to her. She traced the curve of Reese’s jaw with her fingers, smiling faintly. “I’m okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Mmm. I am.”
Reese said carefully, “Shouldn’t we check your blood pressure?”
Tory was silent a long minute, reluctant to add to her lover’s worry. I want this experience to be a joy for her, not a constant source of anxiety.
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