by J. M. Madden
Frankie didn’t leave her side as BB went about setting up a place for the puppy to stay. She decided to use the laundry room, with a baby gate up to block the doorway and keep Frankie out. She didn’t think the older dog would deliberately hurt the puppy, but in her enthusiasm she could probably injure him. Frankie weighed every bit of a solid thirty pounds. Maybe once the pup had grown a little they could think about integrating.
Lincoln was going to kill her. No, he wouldn’t. He would take one look at that tiny little shape and fall in love like she had. Now to come up with a name. Marty made her think McFly, and that was not very cool.
“Frankie and Johnny? No, that’s too obvious. Chili? How about Bleu Louie? Seems appropriate,” she murmured, running her finger down his head.
For a solid week BB cared for Bleu Louie, barely getting any sleep. The first couple of days were the hardest, placing the tube and worrying about getting the measurements just right. It was amazing how full his little gut would fill up. Then she had to stimulate him to go to the bathroom with warm, wet paper towels. Not her favorite job at all, but everything seemed to be working correctly. After the third day of antibiotics his breathing didn’t have that raspy quality, and some of her worry began to ease.
Every day she weighed him on her digital food scale, and every day the grams kept going up, slowly but steadily. By the end of the first week he was markedly bigger, and his eyes were opening even more.
And every day, though she was dragging-ass tired, she fell more in love.
When she’d gotten Frankie years ago she’d been four times the size of Louie. She’d been healthy and robust and a chewer from hell. And the attitude! Even when she was little the dog would backtalk BB like she understood every word BB said. It had both tickled BB and infuriated her. Eventually they’d settled into a good relationship and she couldn’t imagine being without her now.
BB knew it was too soon but she hoped that Lincoln would call so she could talk to him about everything. He would understand how conflicted she was over the puppy. For the first few days she’d been reserved, afraid to get more attached, but the more he thrived the more she fell in love.
And she wanted to talk to him about the fear she’d been fighting that she wouldn’t be enough. Which was ridiculous because she was a strong, independent woman. Caring for a puppy like this, though, was a little outside of her realm of experience.
Mary came over twice that first week just to check on her and make sure she was eating and everything. BB appreciated the contact, as well as the confirmation of her own thinking about a few things. Louie was eating more and sleeping a little longer, which BB appreciated, and she’d stretched out the space between feedings to every two and a half hours.
“I don’t think that’s an issue,” Mary said, eyeing his rotund little bod. “He’s obviously still gaining weight, so…”
“Yeah,” BB agreed. “He goes in the end of this week for a check-up.”
“When can they do the surgery?”
BB shook her head. “Not for a couple months, I don’t think. I’ve been researching on-line and the age varies. I think it depends upon the confidence of the veterinarian and the health of the puppy.”
Mary volunteered to take a feeding to let BB take a nap, but she waved the offer away. “Honestly, I would be laying in bed worrying about him,” she laughed.
“If you change your mind let me know. I’m not far away. I can run over any time.”
“Thanks, Mary. I just appreciate knowing I have support, you know?”
Mary hugged her. “We wives and almost-wives have to stick together.”
She winked as she headed out the door.
BB settled into a rhythm of feeding, napping and working. She had a University sweatshirt with a hand-warmer pocket in front that Louie fit into perfectly. She could handle and rub the puppy as she worked at her drafting table. That was okay for a few days, then he started to get mobile. He wasn’t steady on his feet but he was damned determined. Several times she found him outside the basket where the warming pad was. He would start howling and Frankie, ever watchful, would come whine to BB. It was a funny little relay they had. Frankie was very solicitous of the baby and seemed to understand that he needed care, because she did everything she could to be with him. Several times BB found her bouncing at the baby gate, trying to get over it. One day, when they were both calm, she set Louie down into Frankie’s dog bed with her. She shifted a little, snuffling, but didn’t seem overly concerned, until the puppy started rooting at her belly and looking for a teat. Quicker than BB had ever seen her move, Frankie was out of the basket, whuffling at the puppy. BB laughed and knew that there would be a new comic strip soon.
The vet was impressed when she took Louie in that week.
“He’s almost doubled his weight,” he said happily. “Well done, Mrs. Jones.”
BB didn’t correct him on the name, just let him think she was married. “Thank you. I’ve worked hard for those ounces,” she laughed.
He held the stethoscope to the wriggling pup’s chest, listening. “And the rattling is almost completely gone. We’ll continue the antibiotics a little longer just to be sure.”
He moved the puppy around, checking him over, then eventually handed him back to BB. “I think he looks great. Any concerns?”
She asked him about spacing out the feedings.
“That’s completely fine. As long as he’s getting sustenance fairly regularly you can adapt it to your schedule.”
The little bit of tension that BB had been feeling faded away. “That’s excellent news.”
“If you don’t have any other issues I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
“Perfect,” she grinned, gathering her stuff. Louie fit perfectly into a purse she’d bought for Frankie years ago that the dog had since outgrown.
Liz stopped in to see the pup and gush over his growth, advising BB that she could up the formula dosage. “He looks so good!”
BB grinned, feeling like they’d made it over a hurdle. “Thank you. I’m not going to lie, it’s been a lot of work. If we can start lengthening out the feedings it’ll make it easier.”
Liz nodded. “Understandable. Stick to the two and a half hours for a while, then start extending it out by five or ten minutes.”
BB nodded. “Will do.”
As she walked out of the vet’s office, purse held close, she appreciated the vet tech’s encouraging words.
Maybe eventually she could get back to a regular sleep schedule one of these days. She was feeling so worn down from caring for Louie and trying to do her job at the same time, her body was seriously feeling the effects. Maybe now that they were over this milestone she could let Mary take a few feedings here and there and catch up on some sleep.
Frankie jumped for joy when they came in the front door. She had accepted the pup for the most part and didn’t appear to begrudge him the time BB cared for him. BB tried to pay special attention to the older dog, which she loved, and she made sure to take her for longer walks when she could. BB didn’t want Frankie to feel displaced by the puppy so even as tired as she was she made sure to dote on Frankie as much as she could.
At a little over a month old Louie could get himself pretty much anywhere he cared to go. There was a determination in the dog she’d never seen before and as soon as he realized he could follow Frankie, it was all he did. Luckily, Frankie was very patient with him, surprisingly so. BB thought that she treated him like he was her own baby, which was adorable. When she was done being patient she would jump up onto the furniture to get away from him, sending Louie into a furious barking tantrum.
Then the pup started to disappear. When the house went quiet for too long BB would have to go hunting. Twice she found him wedged between the washer and dryer, ass out. Once he managed to get behind the dryer, then yowled for rescue when he couldn’t get turned around because he was so fat. When she pulled him out, covered in lint, he wiggled his cute little puppy butt and licked her l
ike crazy. It was adorable. But dangerous. In an effort to curb the disappearing, as well as the multiple puddles and presents he left in his venturing, she bought a multi-panel puppy pen. She layered it with puppy pads, a bed, and as many toys as she had, but he still got aggravated at being contained. Sometimes she put Frankie in with him which calmed him a little, but Frankie needed to be able to get away from him. BB didn’t want her to have any resentment to the pup.
Louie continued to grow and thrive. At six weeks he was heavy enough to drag the puppy play pen, along with all the contents, wherever he wanted to go. BB thought she was going crazy and when she walked into the back bedroom she used as her studio and he was gone. Completely gone. As well as all his stuff. She found him down the hall, the fence wedged into the laundry room.
“Oh, Louie… You’re going to drive me bonkers, little man,” she groused, picking him up. He licked her neck and started to chew on her fingers, irreverent. She shook her head and put him down on the floor to attack Frankie.
At six weeks BB also started him on small hard food in addition to the formula. He didn’t take to it at first but eventually he realized it wasn’t so bad. By eight weeks he’d basically weaned himself to the hard food and BB was so thankful. The feedings had gotten spaced further and further apart, but it was nice to not have to get up at all. Overnight she caged Louis and took the food away, then fed him in the morning first thing. She’d been warned not to soften the food because he had more chance of aspirating it through the cleft. He only aspirated the hard food once when he’d dived into it too fast one morning. He hacked it up and kept eating, unconcerned.
BB waited to feel better, but even sleeping through the night she was still feeling crappy. She thought maybe it was an iron deficiency or something, an issue she’d dealt with before, then realized that she hadn’t had her period since Louie had been with her. Her hands stilled, soapy dishwater dripping off them.
Heart in her throat she hurried to her office, drying her hands on her skirt. She shoved things aside on her desk, looking for her planner. Where the heck had it gone? There, under a copy of the USA Today and her latest strip. Finally, she scanned her planner, looking for the little marks she used to indicate period days. They weren’t there. But then, she hadn’t been keeping her planner up very well, what with caring for the puppy. She’d kept a separate notepad close at hand to keep track of Louie’s feeding and weight gain, but it wouldn’t be on there.
Suddenly, some of the things she’d been experiencing began to make sense, and an odd kind of terrifying hope began to build.
BB headed to the shower, stripping as she went. As soon as the water warmed she stepped in and rested her hands on her belly. Was she a little tiny bit bigger? Or was she imagining it? Wracking her brain she tried to think back to when she could have conceived. She’d thought they’d used condoms every time they’d made love, but she knew as much as anyone that condoms weren’t a hundred percent. And they’d been going at it pretty heavy, so…
Lincoln was going to freak.
Tears filled her eyes as she thought about bringing a little Lincoln into the world, with dark hair and his brilliant colored eyes. She would need to run to the drug store to get a test, but in her heart she was almost positive she was going to have a baby.
Even more desperately she wished Lincoln would call.
Mary seemed to sense that something was going on but BB didn’t want to tell her if she could avoid it. If at all possible, Lincoln should be the first to know. Should she write him a letter and hope it got to him? There was a program called Sandbox Letters that Mary had told her about but she hadn’t tried the service yet. Did she dare? Maybe if she technically told him about the baby before Mary guessed she wouldn’t feel so bad.
Or maybe she should just wait. By her estimates, if she was counting correctly, she was probably two to two and a half months along. Maybe waiting another two months until he came home would be smart. She was a little older and wasn’t there a point in the pregnancy when it was assumed the baby was safe? Like the first trimester or something.
Just the thought of finally holding a baby in her arms, her child, was shocking. And thrilling. And a little horrifying. She wasn’t sure how exactly she’d managed to get pregnant, but she would accept the joy, happily.
Suddenly, the realization that she was going to have a baby hit her hard. They were going to have to prepare. Just the thought of all the stuff they needed to get…crap… They were going to need Lamaze classes and maybe even a new house. The two-bedroom beach house was fine for now but she would have to give up her office for the baby.
Louie whined and she moved to pet him, distracted. Then Frankie moved in beside him, taking her hand. BB snorted, loving that her dogs seemed to sense her disquiet.
At a loss, she sank down into her comfy chair on the far side of the room. No, she thought, pushing up, she needed to plan. Grabbing a note pad she flipped to a fresh page, sank back down into the chair, then just stared, not having any idea where to start.
Maybe…maybe it would be smart to head to her house up north. She needed to decide what to do with it anyway. It had been vacant pretty much since she and Lincoln had gotten together. It would get them out of town and she wouldn’t slip with the information.
Or maybe she should slip with the information. Mary, who’d had three kids, would be an invaluable resource right now.
Shit. For one of the only times in her life she had no idea what to do.
Louie whined and she looked down. That’s what she would do; she would take the dogs for a walk. And when she got back she would make a cup of tea and try to work out her priorities.
Chapter Four
In the end she didn’t go anywhere. This beautiful house had quickly become her home and she would stay here. If she did anything, she would contact some contractors and see about expanding in the space they had. She had to have an office and they needed a bedroom for the baby. Research became her priority, first for builders in the area, then for doctors. And if there was one thing the area had it was plenty of OBGYNs. She laughed as she looked at the pages and pages of doctors. Coronado was one of the busiest military bases in the country. Obviously, it had a thriving, growing population. This was where Mary would come in handy.
BB marked off days on the calendar as Lincoln’s deployment ran long, praying that he would be safe and return home quickly. The government wasn’t known for being quick to do anything though.
As fall deepened the weather took on a chill, not enough to wear big sweaters or anything to cover up—this was California, after all—but a few lightweight, gauzy cover-ups helped her feel concealed. Mary didn’t say anything, just complimented her on her style and played with Louie. The puppy had become a favorite in the Black household and BB doubted she was allowed to come visit at all if she didn’t have both dogs in tow.
When Louie was three months old, she took him in for his cleft palate surgery. Mary went in with her for moral support and BB almost told her then about the baby. Her tummy had been off all morning and it was a struggle to even get moving that day. She’d felt drained and just too emotional. Not good going in with her pup for dangerous surgery. She kept her secrets to herself, though, hoping that Mary wouldn’t mind when it was finally revealed.
If she didn’t hear from Lincoln by Christmas, she would let Mary know about the pregnancy.
Dr. Marsh came out when he was done with the surgery and let her know how well Louie had done. To her everloving embarrassment, BB broke into tears. Mary gave her a long look and BB had a feeling the gig was up, but she didn’t call her out. Instead she handed her another tissue and rubbed her back until the tears abated. BB couldn’t have appreciated her more.
It took a about an hour for Louie to come around and be himself again, and he didn’t appear to even notice he’d had surgery. A couple of times she spotted him moving his mouth oddly, like he was feeling the stitches inside his mouth, but he went back to gnawing on his favorite stuffed chic
ken.
Mary never said anything to her that day or the following week, but BB felt guilty for not letting her friend know what was going on. It was especially hard a few days later. BB was standing at the sink loading the dishwasher when she had an odd feeling in her stomach. Not gas, she didn’t think. Something…different. Could it be the baby? It just felt like something had brushed the inside of her skin. Holding still, she waited for the sensation again, but it didn’t happen. In that moment she desperately wanted to call Mary and tell her, but she forced herself away from the phone. Her brother had had kids but she didn’t feel close enough to him or his wife to ask her personal questions like that.
Instead, she researched doctors and finally managed to snag an appointment with the OBGYN at the top of her list two days later. The doctor, a heavier set woman with iron gray hair, smiled at her kindly when she talked to her, and BB knew that no matter what she would keep this doctor. Dr. Wood explained everything to her in easy terms and understood the uncertainty she was feeling with Lincoln deployed.
Then the doctor instructed her to lay back and lift her gown. She squirted KY jelly onto BB’s stomach and ran a wand through it.
“Can you hear the heartbeat already?” BB asked incredulously, her own heartbeat picking up.
“Oh, yes. Just a minute,” the doctor told her, smiling. Then the sound of a racing heartbeat echoed through the room, and BB gasped. It was so strong and steady.
“Sounds like a champ to me,” the doctor said, grinning. She printed off a tape of the heartbeat and handed it to her, then ran the wand around and appeared to be doing measurements. Eventually, she wiped BB’s belly clean. “Your man is going to be thrilled, I know he is.”
BB laughed a little uncertainly. “Well, I think so, but we’ll see.”
“And how far along did you think you were?”
BB blinked at her. “About three months?”
The woman shook her head, leaning forward to look at some measurements. “I think you’re closer to four, actually.”
