Danielle Steel - Echoes

“Are you all right?” he asked, looking at her. He was treating himself to a rare brandy, and thanked her for the excellent dinner. “You've barely sat down all evening.”

“All I do is sit around. I think I've been resting too much. I've had lots of energy since yesterday. I feel so much better.”

“Good. Then enjoy it. Don't wear yourself out. The baby will be here before you know it.”

“Poor Amadea is so tired of waiting.” Her mother sympathized with her, and suddenly felt a sharp pain, but she hated to tell Antoine. He was having such a nice time, relaxing with his brandy, and things had been exceptionally busy lately at the stables. They had just bought four new stallions.

Antoine sat admiring her then, enjoying his brandy. She looked beautiful to him, even though she was immensely pregnant. And as he finished the last of the brandy, much to his amazement, Beata doubled over. She couldn't even speak to him, the pain was so ferocious, and then as fast as it had hit her, it was over.

“My God, what happened? Are you all right? We'd better call the doctor.” But they both knew from the last time that even once they did, it would take forever. This was just the beginning. Beata remembered now that it had been that way for hours the first time. She had started labor in earnest at dawn, and Amadea had finally appeared fifteen hours later. And the doctor had warned her this time might be longer. She wanted to spend some quiet time with Antoine before the doctor and midwife arrived and took over. She preferred to spend her early labor with her husband, since they wouldn't let him stay with her once the midwife came. Beata wanted time with him now.

“I'll just lie down for a minute. Even if this is for real, the baby probably won't come until tomorrow.” It was ten o'clock in the evening, as she made her way slowly upstairs and Antoine followed. He offered to carry her, and she laughed at him. But she stopped laughing the moment she walked into their bedroom. The next pain hit her like a bomb, and she felt instant pressure on her back and lower belly. Antoine eased her gently onto their bed as she gasped in pain, wondering how she could have forgotten. It was all coming back to her now. It was only when she felt the first pains that she actually remembered what it had been like. Until then, the memory of the agony had faded. It was hard to believe now that she could have forgotten, but she had.

She lay down on their bed as Antoine watched her, and she insisted that he wait a while, or a few minutes at least, before he called the doctor. “They won't let you stay with me,” she said, sounding frightened.

“I won't be far away, just in the next room. I promise.”

Just as Maria had done eight years before, Beata had set aside a mountain of old sheets and towels, and she was worried about Amadea hearing frightening sounds from the next room during labor. With luck, she'd be at school when the baby came, and would miss the worst of it. Beata knew she was in for a long haul. She remembered it only too well now, from last time. She had two sharp pains again then, and a tremendous sense of pressure that seemed unfamiliar. She felt as though a truck were driving through her, and with the next pain, she suddenly looked frightened as she glanced wild-eyed at Antoine.

“Oh my God… the baby's coming…”

“I know it is,” he said calmly. The brandy was helping. He recognized all the signs that she was seriously in labor, but this time he knew what to expect and he wasn't worried. “I'll call the doctor. Where's the number?”

“No, you don't understand,” she said, gasping for air, and clutching at him. “I can't… don't… the baby's coming…” And with no warning, she let out a terrible groan, and her face turned first white, then purple. She was pushing. She couldn't stop herself. The pressure forcing her to was overwhelming.

“Stop pushing… you'll wear yourself out.” He remembered Maria warning her of that the first time. She had hours ahead of her, but he definitely wanted to call the doctor. She wouldn't let go of him though. She was clutching his hand, and he could see that the pains were ripping through her without stopping.

“Antoine… help me… take my clothes off…” She managed to somehow pull off most of her clothes, as he struggled to help her, and as she did, he realized what was happening. She wasn't just in labor, she was having the baby, literally, at that moment. This was not at all what he had expected. And he felt slightly drunk from the brandy as he looked between her legs and saw the baby crowning. From all he knew, she had been in labor for about five minutes. But in fact, she had been in labor since early that afternoon and refused to notice.

“Lie down,” he said firmly, with absolutely no idea of what to do. All he remembered, or knew, was what he had seen Maria do during the endless hours before Amadea. “… you can't do this to me… Beata…can't you wait till we call the doctor?” He didn't dare leave her to find the number, and there was no one to help them. He thought of calling Véronique, but he suspected that she knew even less than he did about delivering a baby. He made a move away from her to try and reach her address book, but she wouldn't let him.

“I need you… don't…oh my God…Antoine… please…oh no… someone help me…”

“It's all right, darling, it's all right… I'm here…I won't leave you… should you push now?” He had no idea what to do for her except be there, which was all she wanted.

“Get towels,” she cried. He ran to her bathroom, and brought back an armload and put them under and around her. He could see that she was wracked with pain and he held her shoulders as he had the first time. But this time, she didn't have to do the work, the baby did it for her. Beata gave one scream, and within seconds a small face emerged, open-mouthed and wailing. They both looked shocked as they heard it, and Antoine had never seen anything so amazing. He talked Beata through the next pains, as she delivered the rest of the baby's shoulders and then the body. The baby lay there perfect and crying loudly. It was another girl, and he picked her up and placed her gently in a towel, then handed her to her mother. He leaned down and kissed them both, as Beata laughed through her tears. The entire process had taken less than half an hour. Antoine was still in shock as he asked her for the number and called the doctor. He told him not to cut the cord, and he would be there in five minutes. He lived within minutes of the Schloss, and knew where their house was. Antoine went to sit next to her then, and gently kissed both mother and baby.

“I love you, Beata, but if you ever do that to me again, I'm going to kill you…I had no idea what to do to help you… why didn't you let me call the doctor?”

“I didn't think the baby would come for hours, and I wanted to be with you…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to scare you.” She had been afraid, too. It had all happened so quickly, she had never expected the baby to be born with so little warning. And with the exception of a few rough pains, it had been remarkably easy.

The doctor arrived moments later, cut the cord, checked mother and daughter, and declared them both in excellent condition.

“You didn't need me for this one, my dear. The next one is likely to come even faster.”

“I'm putting myself in a hospital for that one,” Antoine said, still looking shaken, as he thanked the doctor.

The doctor called and asked the midwife to come then, to clean up mother and baby and settle them in. And by midnight, mother and daughter were tucked into bed, looking immaculate and peaceful. This baby looked entirely different from Amadea. She was much smaller than Amadea had been, which was why the labor had been so much easier, and her arrival so speedy. She was tiny, and seemed to have the delicate frame of her mother. Amadea had continued to be tall and lanky, like her father. This baby had Beata's dark hair, and it was too soon to tell what color her eyes were. She seemed remarkably calm and relaxed as Beata held her.

In the morning when Amadea came in to them, she gave a shout of glee. She had heard nothing the night before, and Beata was grateful that she was a heavy sleeper.

“She's here! She's here!” Amadea said, dancing around the room, and then came to peer at her intently. “What shall we call her? Can I hold her?” Beata and Antoine had talked about names until they fell asleep, but they wanted to wait until they consulted Amadea.

“What about Daphne?” Beata suggested, and Amadea looked at the baby seriously, weighed the possibility for a long moment, and then nodded.

“I like it.” Beata looked relieved, Antoine did, too. They all did. “Daphne. It's perfect.” She climbed into bed beside her mother then, and Beata gently put the baby in her big sister's arms, and tears came to her eyes as she watched. She hadn't had the son she had hoped to give Antoine, but her heart filled with joy as she looked at her two daughters, the one beautiful and blond, and the other so small and dark. She was the image of her mother. And when she looked up, Beata saw Antoine smiling as he watched them from the doorway. They exchanged a long slow smile. It was the moment they had both waited eight years for.

“I love you,” she mouthed to Antoine, more in love with him than ever. He nodded, as tears filled his eyes. No matter what they had lost in the past, they both had all they had ever wanted now.

BY THE TIME DAPHNE WAS TWO, AMADEA WAS TEN, AND there was no doubt in anyone's mind that she was Amadea's baby, just as Amadea claimed. She constantly fussed over her, indulged her, took her everywhere. She was like a live doll that Amadea never ceased to play with. Amadea was an extremely efficient little mother. Beata had nothing to do whenever Amadea was around. The only time she left her baby sister was when she went to school, and when she went to visit her father at the stables. At ten Amadea was an extremely proficient rider. She had won several jumping competitions and knew a great deal about horses. Antoine was justifiably proud of her, and adored both his daughters, as he did Beata. He was an extraordinary father and husband. Beata knew without a doubt that she was a lucky woman.