Guardian of the Fountain

by Jennifer Bryce

  “Oh. Except that one,” Arturo said.

  María instantly stopped in her tracks and silenced her tirade. She started laughing hysterically.

  “She’s completely barmy,” Brant whispered to Arturo.

  Chrissie stared curiously at María. “She’s acting insane.”

  “Oh!” She clapped, and then she started singing. Her eyes lit up, and the corners of her mouth tilted up into a full grin—she looked happy, very happy. María swayed and danced to her happy mood right out of the room.

  “I’m calling Dr. Wilson at once.” Brant picked up the phone and began dialing.

  “For Chrissie or María?” Arturo stared out the doorway.

  Chapter 15

  Dr. Wilson came in through the front door of the mansion. Chrissie hadn’t seen that door used much. The formality of the front door struck her as odd.

  “What a peculiar ride. Blindfolded in a car is a new one. Where’s is Chrissie?” Dr. Wilson’s eyes scanned the foyer and spotted Chrissie sitting on the edge of the fountain.

  “Hello, Dr. Wilson.” Her cheery greeting contradicted her inner turmoil, which was on the verge of giving her true, nervous feelings away. She wanted to be happy to see him, but he was here because she had thrown up earlier this morning, adding to Brant’s overprotective mode.

  “Well, Arturo said you have some new symptoms. Let’s get you checked out thoroughly.” Dr. Wilson acted nonchalant, like he made house calls to mysterious mansions all the time.

  “I’ll show you to my room.” Chrissie headed for the stairs.

  “Lead the way.” Dr. Wilson carried his black leather bag and trailed a few steps behind Chrissie to her room. Brant and María began to follow them. Dr. Wilson turned around to face them. “It would be best if you waited down here,” he instructed. “Patient confidentiality is of utmost importance, even in the mansion.”

  “Fine,” Brant said as he folded his arms across his chest unhappily.

  María looked like she was about to protest until Arturo put his arm around her. “The doctor is right, María.”

  Dr. Wilson closed the heavy wooden door to Chrissie’s room, and it echoed ominously through the mansion. He began a head to toe examination of her. “Arturo tells me you began vomiting today. We already know that you’ve been sleeping and eating abnormal amounts. My suspicions point to something, but I won’t know for sure until I do a vaginal exam. Is that okay?”

  “I suppose, but why?”

  “I have a hunch that your condition might be very curable with a little time.” He smiled reassuringly.

  “Alright, let’s get this over with.” She lay down tensely on the bed and awaited his diagnosis.

  “Well, isn’t this an interesting development?” he said as he finished the vaginal exam. “You are pregnant, but I need to check to see how far along you are until we can get you an ultrasound, since you have no recollection of your last period.”

  “Impossible!” she gasped. Her stomach clenched. This couldn’t be? I can’t even remember not being a virgin. “What about the poison I took?” Chrissie said as she stared at the ceiling. The revelation overwhelmed her and she began to cry. If Brant found out he would certainly send her back to the States.

  “Time will tell. I can’t say for certain if you took the poison what kind of affect it had on you and the baby. I will need to run a full run up of tests. . Have you been bathing in the water?” Dr. Wilson threw his latex gloves into the wastebasket and helped Chrissie sit up.

  “Yes, whenever I feel ill. How much do you know about the water?”

  “Brant frequently brings me water to care for the villagers. They are under his protection as long as they keep the secret, and I have an opportunity to research it as long as I keep the secret. In fact, you were the one who had the brilliant idea to use it in an infant’s breathing treatment when he came down with pneumonia. After two treatments, the infant’s oxygen levels were back to normal, and he didn’t have labored breathing.”

  “I used it in the clinic?”

  “All the time.” Dr. Wilson snapped his black leather bag shut. “I will let you tell the others the news. It’s yours to share. I’ll be back in very soon to check you again and do an ultrasound. You have just begun the waiting game. Good luck.” Dr. Wilson turned before he left the room. “Word of advice—don’t drink the water while you’re pregnant. It might slow down the growth of the fetus.”

  Chrissie finished dressing and went down to be with the others. She didn’t want to take those steps down the stairs. All of them were waiting impatiently for news of some kind, and she wasn’t ready to share any of it. Eyes looked up at her and followed her down from the plaza. They continued to watch her all the way down to the bottom step. María seemed to be jumping out of her skin to hear the news. Brant was standing in the back of the group, silent and still.

  “Está bien?” María exclaimed.

  “Come on, María. Let’s take Dr. Wilson home.” Arturo guided María to the door.

  “Arturo, why do you always do this to me?” María complained.

  “Because it is none of our business. If she wants to share any information, she will,” Arturo chided. “Don’t be tan curiosa.”

  Dr. Wilson followed María and Arturo out the front door, laughing. The front door shut, leaving the grand plaza in silence.

  “Well?” Brant’s brow was wrinkled and he looked like he was about to jump out of his skin.

  “Oh, it’s nothing that going for a swim can’t fix. Just the same ol’, same ol’.” She brushed aside the uneasiness that filled the room. “Dr. Wilson said I’m doing much better than the last time he saw me.” She had been worried about holding hands with Brant. That seemed to dull in comparison to the fact that she had more than held hands with someone. She had turned down Trey numerous times—why would she allow it with Brant? Or maybe it wasn’t Brant. She couldn’t say for sure … she didn’t remember. Dang Swiss cheese brains weren’t helping her any.

  “Well, that is enough stress for one afternoon. How about we do something to get our minds off the new symptoms.” Brant’s face relaxed.

  “It’s an idea.” Chrissie smoothed down her disheveled blouse. Really, there wasn’t anything that could take her mind off being pregnant. Now she not only had to worry about her own health, but her unborn baby’s. What if she had caused irreparable harm?

  Brant knelt on one knee before Chrissie and took her hand into his.

  “Please don’t propose. I don’t think I could handle it.” Chrissie tried to pull her hand back, but Brant didn’t let go.

  “Chrysanthemum Love Stevens,” he paused for dramatic flare, “would you do me the honor of going on a date with me tonight?”

  “Brant . . . whatever . . . Winston, it would be my pleasure.” Chrissie deeply curtsied. “Phew! I’m so glad you didn’t propose.” She put her hand to her chest to calm her pounding heart.

  “I’m offended. Would it be so bad to marry me?” He smiled mischievously at her, causing her heartstrings to ping. “Brant Liam Winston will pick you up promptly at seven. Formal attire tonight, darling.” He kissed the back of her hand. Then he ran up the stairs, taking two at a time.

  It left Chrissie to wonder where in the world Brant thought she was going to pick up an evening gown. She had a few summer dresses, denim pants, and shorts. She owned nothing close to an evening gown unless one counted the outdated bubble-gum pink prom dress back in her closet in Dallas. She felt like she would be a disappointment to Brant. She couldn’t even dress appropriately for a date, not to mention that she was mysteriously pregnant.

  Oh, gosh. I hope he’s the father.

  Although a date tonight did sound fun, she doubted it would take her mind off the shock of being pregnant.

  Chapter 16

  Chrissie took time curling her hair into soft waves. Some of the hair she lost was beginning to grow back. Two-inch strands poked out all over her head, making it nearly impossible to camouflage the new baby hairs. The l
ast time she could remember taking this much care getting ready for an event was the night of the carnival, when Marla played makeover. Tonight she didn’t have Marla, so she decided to put on her prettiest sundress and hope for the best. Marla had to be back in Jersey by now. Chrissie wondered what her best friend would think of the mess she was in.

  María knocked on the door just as Chrissie finished curling the last section of blonde hair. “Can I come in?”

  “Yes, come in.”

  “Are you going to tell me the news?” María asked hopefully.

  “Nope.” Chrissie shut María down before she could go any further.

  “I yelled at Brant for telling you elegant attire, and you don’t have a single dress. I assumed you were worried about it. But have no fear—he has had presents made for you since he first began dating you. Now you are here, and he can give them to you!”

  “What presents?” Curiosity burned within her.

  “I only know about this first set of gifts. He has them stashed all over the mansion, mostly in the locked rooms. Follow me, and I will show you. He gave me permission to unlock one of the doors.” In María’s hand was a large iron ring, dangling enormous skeleton keys. They walked down several halls to get to a door next to Brant’s room. María unlocked the door, and they entered a room that was three times the size of her tiny bedroom, elaborately decorated mostly in white, soft gold, and pale blue.

  Two large white doors cracked open just off the room, and María went in to the adjoining room and turned on the light. “Come in here, chica. I’ll show it to you.”

  Chrissie gasped at the sight in that very large walk-in closet. Shoes and clothes lined the closet walls. A large center table contained accessories that she only dreamed of buying from the finest stores. María went over to a section of zippered clothes bags and unzipped them all, pulling out evening gowns. Four dresses in total hung uncovered.

  ”Brant noticed that you didn’t own a lot and wanted you to be dressed in the finest. He wanted to spoil you. He is not much of a spender, but when it comes to you, no expense was too great. The sad thing is that they came the same day your parents arrived to take you home. Es lleno de ironía. He had me put them in this closet and lock them away. It was too painful for him to see.” María wiped a tear dripping down her cheek. “Now you are here and can try on any of these clothes and enjoy this gift he has for you!” Her tone brightened. “Next, we can plan on a layette for the bebé.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Call it instinct. I am a woman after all and I’ve seen many pregnant women in my lifetime.”

  The realization of María knowing that she was pregnant stunned her. “Oh, please don’t say anything,” Chrissie pled. Her nerves began to bubble up to the back of her throat.

  “You haven’t said anything to him?” María stepped back in shock.

  “I don’t even remember how I got this way. That didn’t sound right…I know the biological mechanics of what happens…what I mean to say is that I can’t recall when. How can I tell him?” she said in a low whisper. “What would he think of me?”

  María looked like she had something to say, but swallowed it back down. “Well, I won’t say anything to him. I’ll let you do it when you are ready. But sooner or later, the secret will come out.”

  “I hope it turns out as well as you think it will. María, did you and Arturo have any children?”

  “Yes, we had one hijo. We wanted more, but couldn’t. So through the years, we took in over thirty children and raised them as our own. I love each of them dearly. Some have long since passed, all living to a ripe old age. The youngest is forty years old, living in New York. He is a successful businessman. He calls me every Sunday to check on us. Most of the others lived in the village or nearby.”

  Chrissie looked at a long black sparkly number, a short champagne-gold cocktail dress, a deep plum flowing dress, and finally a soft pink tea-length dress. Tonight she was going all out, so she picked the black dress. Chrissie found all the appropriate lingerie in labeled drawers and dressed herself for the night. In the full-length mirror, she studied her reflection. It would soon be changing slightly, but tonight she looked like a blonde version of Jessica Rabbit in black. Nothing about her appearance looked like Chrysanthemum Love Stevens from Dallas, who grew up middle-class and had a job as a nurse. The Louis Vuitton heels she wore were worth more than her broken-down Toyota.

  “You look spectacular!” María fastened the last eyehook at the top of Chrissie’s dress.

  “This will probably be the only time I’ll ever be able to wear this dress.”

  “Never say never.” María fastened a necklace so it dripped down Chrissie’s neck. Rows and rows of large black pearls and crystals lay across her chest.

  “Are you ladies done yet?” Arturo called through the door. “Women always take forever getting ready.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” María hollered back. “Keep your pantelones on!”

  “You two are always fighting. Sometimes I wonder if you’re serious.” Chrissie walked into a cloud of freshly sprayed perfume.

  “We play. We are never serious. The more loud and rude means the more I love him. You have to think of new ways to keep the love alive after a couple hundred years.” María started to tidy up the closet.

  “Okay, I think I’m ready.” Chrissie’s heartbeat quickened as she stepped out into the hall. Arturo stood ready, dressed in a shirt and tie. “Why, Arturo, you clean up nicely.”

  “It’s silly. María made me do it. I’m to escort you to dinner.” Arturo presented his elbow, and Chrissie linked her arm in his. “My María, she is something.” He shook his head, a small smile peeking through.

  Arturo took Chrissie as far as the last door at the end of the tunnel. He opened the door and stood back as she passed him. “Thank you, Arturo.” Chrissie kissed him on the cheek.

  Chrissie took two steps into the garden. Tiny white lights twinkled, illuminating the garden and turning blossoms into colored enchantments. Arturo departed, leaving her alone to follow a path of rose petals winding down to the fountain. Chrissie took great care not to trip and fall in her heels and tight black dress. Her breath was taken away as she found that Brant had set up a candlelit dinner at the water’s edge. He stood with his back to her, wearing a white cocktail coat, looking over the moonlight dancing on the water. His shoulders looked so broad in the suit coat, her heart pounded faster.

  Brant turned to look at her, and his eyes widened at the sight of her. He walked over to her and slipped a small corsage on her wrist. “You are making it awfully hard to be good,” he whispered in her ear. His warm breath caressed her neck, causing shivers to travel down her body.

  Inside her head, she screamed, Don’t touch me! I’m a fallen woman. You don’t want me!

  Brant led her to the table and pulled out a chair for her to sit in. He sat down and took off the silver covers over their plates. The food looked more like art than something edible. It was a small steak bedded down in fancy piped-out mashed potatoes. A vegetable arch added flare to the plate.

  Chrissie leaned forward and whispered, “Are you sure I’m allowed to eat this? It’s really fancy.”

  Brant deeply laughed. “Of course! María would be offended if you didn’t. She doesn’t get to show off her culinary skills very often.”

  “María did this?”

  “Don’t be too astonished. She studied in Paris for a year.”

  “I guess she’s had a lot of time to do whatever she wants.”

  “Arturo studied painting that same year. They came back like honeymooners. Best Christmas present I ever gave. I love giving presents. I particularly love that one on you.”

  Chrissie’s cheeks warmed, and she quickly glanced away. “What girl doesn’t like to walk into a stocked closet and go shopping?” She turned her attention to the food. “This is so good.”

  “I have to admit,” Brant said between bites, “I cheated a little bit. I know all your favori
te nosh, and even some you discovered while you were here.”

  “I guess I get to rediscover them all over again,” she said a bit sourly. “Glass-half-full moment.”

  “Just think about it this way—we get the chance to do all the best parts over again, and I know what not to do to make you mad.”

  “How could I ever get mad at you?”

  “Oh, you did, and I paid for it. We got in a huge fight. You didn’t talk to me for three days.”

  “Wow, you must’ve really messed up.”

  “I was late two hours picking you up for a date.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty bad.”

  “I called to tell you I was going to pick you up. I made one last trip to the garden to check on a compost pile, vacuumed out the truck, and Arturo and I got to talking about something and I lost track of time.” Brant cut a piece of asparagus with his fork. “I learned that night that you have a huge pet peeve.”

  “Oh, I finally know the answer to this one!” Chrissie brightened. “You should be where you said you were going to be—on time.”

  “Right. I looked at it as getting things done. I knew you would be there when I got there, but you saw it as being disrespectful. When I got to your apartment, the lights were off, and you wouldn’t answer the door. When I tried to look in the front window, you closed the blinds. That’s how I knew I was in trouble.” Brant wiped his mouth with his white linen napkin. “I got mad because you were angry, and I didn’t think I did anything wrong. Time doesn’t matter much to me—I’ve got tons of it, so it seemed like a frivolous squabble. You, on the other hand, as opinionated as you are, like to be prompt. I began yelling through the window the list of things I got done, and that you were being irrational. As soon as the word ‘irrational’ came out of my mouth, I knew I’d blown it.”

  “In a big way.” Chrissie agreed. “‘Irrational’ would be a very poor word choice, in my book.” She knew she would’ve made him pay with the silent treatment until he came and apologized in a big way.