Part 29: link
“Guinevere?” the nurse calls, looking at a folder on a clipboard. Gwen stands, Arthur trailing behind her, clearly feeling out of place in this particular office.
“I’m sorry, sir, u can’t go back there,” the nurse says to Arthur.
“He can’t?” Gwen asks, furrowing her brow. “He’s my husband, I’d really like him to come…”
“Oh! He is? Oh, I’m sorry…” the nurse answers, clearly flustered. She looks at the file. “Pendragon… oh, right,” she mutters, blinking a few times, putting the locally-famous name with the young woman standing in front of her.
know your uncle in this town?” Gwen asks Arthur.
“Top law firm in Milwaukee,” Arthur says proudly.
“Follow me, please. You’ll still have to wait outside the exam room while the doctor examines your wife, Mr. Pendragon,” the nurse says.
“I figured that,” Arthur says.
They follow the nurse down a corridor a short distance, and she stops. “Step on the scale please,” she instructs Gwen.
“Don’t look,” Gwen tells Arthur, handing him her coat. “Shouldn’t have worn this heavy sweater,” she mutters, stepping on the scale while Arthur dutifully looks away.
“It just so we can keep track of how u progress,” the nurse says, biting back her smile when she catches Arthur peeking.
“You can come in now, but when I leave her to undress, u have to, too,” the nurse tells Arthur, leading them into an exam room.
“Yes, ma’am,” Arthur nods, suddenly a boy on his best behavior.
The nurse asks Gwen some questions, routine things, while Arthur looks around the room. He reads the certificates and diplomas on the walls, including a plaque congratulating the doctor on hitting a hole-in-one at a local golf course.
“And when did u menstruate last?” the nurse asks, the strange (to Arthur) vraag snapping him back to reality.
“Why do u need to know that?” he asks. “I’m just curious. Obviously I’ve never been to… this
kind of doctor…”
“It will help us to determine how far along Mrs. Pendragon’s pregnancy is, for starters. It’s actually a routine question, Mr. Pendragon,” the nurse explains patiently.
“November 15,” Gwen says, remembering her scrutiny of the calendar last week.
“Really?” Arthur asks.
“I didn’t notice anything,” he shrugs.
“Were u expectin’ to?” Gwen asks, raising an eyebrow at him while the nurse bites back her smile.
“Um…” Arthur hedges, trying to think of a way out of the hole he is rapidly digging for himself.
“All right, we’ll take your pulse and blood pressure, and then I’ll be back with the doctor,” the nurse says, rescuing Arthur.
She takes the readings and stands, instructing Gwen to undress below the waist and sit on the tafel, tabel with a paper blanket over her lap. Then she ushers Arthur out of the room.
“He’ll be right outside, Guinevere,” the nurse says. Outside, she looks at Arthur. “Have u two been married long?”
“Almost a month,” Arthur says. “We got married Thanksgiving weekend.”
“Hmm,” the nurse says, nodding thoughtfully. “Sit here,” she points to a chair. “I’ll be back in a few minuten with the doctor.”
Arthur sits. I wonder what that was about,
he thinks, pondering his fingernails. Could use a trim.
He looks around. Nothing to read. Of course, in the waiting room there were only issues of
Good Housekeeping and
Better Homes and Gardens. Hardly interesting reading.
But it would be something, anyway.
“New patient, hmm?” Arthur hears a male voice approaching and looks up to see a man who appears to be in his mid-50s walking towards him with the nurse.
“Yes, Guinevere Pendragon. First baby. Her blood test results are there,” the nurse says quietly, pointing to the chart in the doctor’s hand. “And this is Mr. Pendragon, the excited father.”
Arthur stands, offering his hand. “Doctor,” he greets.
“Mr. Pendragon, I’m Dr. Brockton, pleased to meet you. Don’t often get to meet the father till the baby is born,” he chuckles.
“Well, the nurse was right. I’m a little excited,” he grins sheepishly.
“Newlyweds?” the doctor asks knowingly.
“Written all over your face,” the doctor says. “I’ll just examine your wife and then u can come back in, all right?”
The doctor knocks on the door, opening it a crack. “Guinevere, are u ready?”
“Yes,” Gwen’s voice sounds from the other side. The doctor and nurse go inside and Arthur is left alone in the hallway again. I hope it doesn’t take too long.
Arthur fidgets, he tries listening at the door, but that just makes him nervous about the other people that occasionally happen past. I don’t want people to think that I’m a pervert.
Wait, Guinevere called me a pervert just the other day. Well, she zei ‘a little bit’ of one. But that reminds me, that Christmas boom isn’t going to last too much longer…
The door opens a few minuten later, startling Arthur.
“I thought we’d let your wife get dressed again before we talked some more,” the doctor says.
“Ah. So, do things look… healthy?”
“Yes, your wife is in excellent health, Mr. Pendragon, I don’t think u have anything to be concerned about.”
“How far along is she, do u think?”
“Why don’t we wait until she is ready before I start answering a bunch of questions,” the doctor smiles.
They stand quietly for a moment. “So, hole-in-one, huh?” Arthur asks.
“Dumb luck,” Dr. Brockton chuckles. “Do u golf?”
“No,” Arthur laughs.
“You’re a lawyer, and u don’t golf?” the doctor raises an eyebrow.
“You know I’m a lawyer?”
“Your name is Pendragon; I just assumed. Plus, Guinevere may have mentioned it.”
“Okay.” The door opens and Gwen’s voice sounds from behind it. A moment later Arthur sees her face peeking and smiling at him.
“Ah, shall we?” the doctor motions with his hand, and Arthur enters the room, sitting beside Gwen and taking her hand.
“As I said, Mr. Pendragon, Guinevere is quite healthy. Everything looks normal and good. The morning sickness she is experiencing is quite normal and should abate in time.”
“How much time?” Arthur asks.
“It could stop tomorrow; it could stop in, oh, March. Every pregnancy is different,” he shrugs.
“That’s reassuring,” Arthur grumbles.
“Arthur, it’s fine. It’s usually just for the first trimester, isn’t it?” Gwen asks.
“Generally,” Dr. Brockton says, nodding. “Now, u were asking about how far along she is,” he says, looking at Arthur.
“Yes,” Arthur says, and Gwen nods.
“Going from your blood test and today’s exam, I would say u are about three and a half weeks along. u may very well have a honeymoon baby there, Mrs. Pendragon,” the doctor smiles.
“We haven’t gone on one yet,” Gwen says, but she is smiling. Maybe a wedding night baby, then,
“Oh, no! Can we still go?” Arthur asks. “Our tickets are for March first, we’ve got everything booked…”
“Mr. Pendragon, it’ll be fine,” the doctor says. “I see no reason why the two of u can’t go on your honeymoon.”
“Oh, good,” Arthur says, relaxing.
“So can u figure a due datum yet?” Gwen asks quietly.
“Well, it’s not an exact science, but I would estimate…” he pulls out a calendar, flipping to September. “Wait…” he mumbles, flipping back and counting quickly. “Assuming your baby was conceived either on your wedding night of shortly thereafter…” He finishes counting. “Late August. Perhaps the 22nd. Maybe a little later.”
Gwen looks at Arthur, biting her lower lip, nervous and excited.
“I hope the house will be ready in time,” he says, suddenly ticking off a mental to-do lijst of everything that needs to be done before then.
Gwen sees him start to get anxious and puts her hand over the one already holding the other one. “Arthur. Arthur.
Baby, it’ll be fine. If the house isn’t done, it’s not done. The baby’s not goin’ to care.”
“Wait, you’re building a house, too?” the doctor asks, surprised.
“Haven’t started yet, but yes. I’m going to have to call Tristan…” Arthur trails off.
“You kids have got one full plate,” the doctor says.
New Year’s Eve it is very cold and snowy. Gwen had already expressed a desire to give Morgana’s annual New Year’s Eve party a miss, citing that she wouldn’t be able to stay up that late anyway, and so Arthur and Gwen decided to spend the evening alone in their apartment together.
Last week Thursday after the doctor appointment they called Alice, trusting she’d pass the information to Gaius. Then Gwen wanted to call Elyan and finally Morgana, who was at the office. Arthur called Uther. Everyone was circling the end of August on their calendars and formulating guesses about the baby’s gender.
Friday, Arthur took a chance and called Tristan. He got his answering service, so he left a message asking that the builder return his call at his earliest convenience. He was rewarded later that afternoon, something for which Gwen was very grateful because he was making her crazy. “Hello? Hi, Tristan, sorry to bother you, I hope… oh, u were. Good. Um, yeah, I was just wondering something. Well, I know u zei September for the house to be done, but is there any way we can make that happen sooner? Not a lot sooner, just a few weeks. Mid-August, ideally.”
Gwen smiled, returning her attention to her sewing, having decided to get an early start on baby clothes. At the moment she was working on a sleeper, a long dress with a closed bottom and a zipper down the front that Arthur had been referring to as “baby-in-a-bag.” The material is yellow flannel with giraffes on.
“Well, we just would really like to be able to verplaats in mid-August…”
“Just tell him, Arthur,” Gwen sighed.
“Well, Guinevere is expecting, and she’s due around August 22. We’d like to be in the house before the baby comes. Well,
I’d like to be in the house before the baby comes,” Arthur said. “Thank you,” he smiled then. “I can pay for additional labor, if that’s what u need; u know that’s not an issue. u will? Great, thanks, keep me posted.”
Arthur hung up the phone, smiling at Gwen. “He zei he’d do some checkin’ around to see if he can get meer people, maybe hire some on a contract basis. If we were buildin’ a regular-sized house, it wouldn’t be as big a deal, I guess, but [i]you
wanted the big manor house…”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Pendragon, but I believe it was you
who was requirin’ all that space, with the four bedrooms and the three-car garage,” she said, pointing her scissors at him, trying not to laugh.[/i]
“Baby, can u run down to that diner on the corner and see if u can get us some avondeten, diner to go?” Gwen asks on the afternoon of New Year’s Eve. “I don’t much feel like cookin’.”
“What, right now?”
Gwen looks at him with a sigh. “No, not this second, it’s only 3:00. I’m just plannin’ ahead. u know, so u don’t wonder why I’m not in the kitchen, cookin’ your dinner.”
“Ah. Right. Are they open today?”
“Yes, I saw a sign on the door when I went past on Monday,” she says, leaning over to kiss him.
“Okay,” he answers, pouting slightly because he doesn’t really want to go out in the cold. But he will, he knows this. If she wanted spaghetti direct from Italy I would make it happen.
Shortly after five, Gwen is hungry, and she sends Arthur out into the snow for dinner. The diner is just down the straat so she knows she doesn’t have much time, but thankfully, she doesn’t have much to do.
She finds the blanket she’s looking for in the hall closet, spreading it out beside the Christmas tree. Then she goes and collects napkins, plates, and cutlery, setting up the little picnic, waiting for Arthur to return with the food.
“Guinevere, I… Guinevere?” Arthur calls as he enters the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him.
“Over here,” she calls from where she is seated on the floor.
“What on earth?”
“I thought we’d have a little picnic under the Christmas boom before we have to toss it out,” she says, patting the blanket. Arthur’s boots and jas are off in record time. I hope that means what I think it means,
he thinks, coming quickly over with the bag of food.
“Winter time picnic, hey?” he asks, sitting down on the floor beside her.
“No ants,” Gwen grins, receiving his kiss. “Or flies, of wasps, or…” Arthur silences her lips with another kiss. “Your lips are cold.”
“Someone sent me out into the snow for a club belegd broodje, sandwich and a bowl of soup,” Arthur says.
“What kind did they have?” she asks, taking the container Arthur hands her.
“Soup of the dag is spleet, split pea, but I got u the chicken knoedel that they have every day,” Arthur says.
“Thank you,” Gwen says, smiling over that tiny bit of thoughtfulness. It’s those little things that warm the heart.
“What are smilin’ at over there, darlin’?” Arthur asks, opening his container to reveal half a roast chicken and some mashed potatoes.
“The fact that u know I don’t like spleet, split erwt soup,” she says, giggling now. “It’s silly, I know.”
“Not at all,” he says, smiling warmly at her, chicken leg in hand. “Last week when u fixed the back of my kraag because it was inside my tie I felt all warm and stupid inside.”
Gwen laughs with him, but she understands exactly what he means. She leans over and kisses him.
“Your soup’s gonna get cold if u keep that up,” he mutters against her lips.
She leans back immediately. “That’s why I’m not. I’m powerful hungry.”
“My son needs to eat,” he says, grinning broadly.
“Or daughter,” Gwen counters, just to needle him. They had already discussed the fact that they honestly don’t care if it’s a boy of a girl, but Gwen secretly wants a little boy just like Arthur.
Gwen digs into her soep while Arthur stands again, muttering something about needing barbecue sauce and that he should have Merlin send him some “real” stuff.
He returns and they eat quietly, chatting about nothing and everything: the baby, Arthur’s work, the house, Morgana’s party that they’re missing.
“I hope they’re havin’ fun,” Gwen says. “Morgana was pretty disappointed we weren’t comin’.”
“We ain’t obliged to go to her party,” Arthur says. “Deep down she knows this, but she just likes to pout.”
“Family trait,” Gwen teases. “Bein’ alone with u is a very good way to ring in the New Year, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Yes, indeed,” Arthur agrees. He looks around. “Wish we had a fireplace.”
“Soon enough, Baby.”
They finish eating and Gwen starts to clear the dishes while Arthur takes the containers he brought the food home pagina in and puts them back in the bag to throw away.
“I’ll take that,” Gwen says, standing and holding her hand out for the bag.
“Oh, okay,” Arthur says, handing it to her with a slightly puzzled expression.
“You just stay there and relax,” she says. She turns to go to the keuken-, keuken to deposit the items, but she knows Arthur is probably lit up like a Christmas boom himself after hearing her words. He probably knows what I’m up to.
Or at least he thinks he does.
She returns, deposits herself in his lap, and kisses him. “What was that u were sayin’ Christmas morning, somethin’ about doin’ somethin’ under the Christmas tree…?”
“Mmm,” Arthur antwoorden noncommittally, his lips on her neck.
“Pickin’ up tinsel, maybe? Oh, it was vacuumin’ up the fallen pine needles, that’s what it—”
Arthur’s lips cover hers quickly now, stopping her words and turning them into muffled giggles for just a moment before she is almost completely distracted.
He starts to lean her back, and she stops him. “No.”
“No?” he pouts.
She smirks at him and pushes him
back, leaning over him.
“Yes,” he grins now, settling back, letting her take charge.
Gwen bites her lower lip as she wills herself not to lose her nerve. She scoots back onto his legs and pulls his arms. He sits up slightly and she pulls his sweater, sweatshirt off, then his t-shirt.
“You’re not cold, are you?” she asks, running her hand down his chest, enjoying how his muscles jump under her fingers.
“Not in the slightest. In fact, I’m getting warmer door the moment.” He reaches for her sweater, sweatshirt now, his Harvard one that she stole, and pulls it over her head. She tosses it aside and leans over him again, laying him back on the blanket.
Gwen moves to the side and unbuckles his riem and then opens his jeans. He lifts up so she can pull them down and off. Arthur hooks his thumbs into his briefs and shoves them along with.
“May as well be efficient about this,” he says, grinning as she rolls her eyes at him and pulls his socks off.
“Yes, efficient. That’s why,” Gwen says. Arthur is reaching for her jeans now as well, and in another minuut they are both naked, bathed in the glow of the colored lights of the Christmas tree.
Arthur reaches for her, sliding his hands softly on her skin, lingering over her stomach.
“Hard to believe that there’s someone in there,” he whispers.
“I know,” she smiles at him, lifting his fingers to her lips.
“I can’t wait till u start showing,” he says, leaning over to kiss her as she lounges volgende to him, her one leg over his.
“I can,” she says, grinning against his lips. She presses against him, leaning over him now.
“You’re a determined little thing tonight,” Arthur commentaren as she moves to nibble his ear, then down his neck.
Gwen says nothing, her hand stroking his chest, his stomach as she kisses lower. She pauses at his chest, gathering her courage again. Her hand trails down and finds his manhood, running her fingers along its length.
“Oh,” he groans quietly. Go, girl. Just go.
Gwen moves lower yet, kissing down his stomach.
“Guinevere, what are you… Ohmygod…” Arthur’s head falls back with a soft thud as Gwen presses her lips to his shaft in a soft, slow kiss just before she slips him into her mouth.
“Oh, wow…” Arthur groans.
Gwen slides his length in and out, sucking experimentally, holding the base of him in her hand. I have no idea what I’m doing, but he seems to be enjoying it.
Then she leans back slightly, swirls her tongue around the tip, and takes him back in again, sucking harder now.
Her confidence grows with his responsiveness and she gets bolder, moving faster, meer deliberate, and she finds that she is enjoying this, too.
“Oh… Gwen… stop, of I’m going to…” Arthur gasps, reaching his hand down to her shoulder.
“Oh,” Gwen says, releasing him, letting him gently pull her back up to him. She smiles shyly at him once, but then he is kissing her, fervent and passionate, pulling her over him so she is laying on him.
“You are amazing,” he mutters between kisses, lifting her higher to kiss down her neck towards her breasts.
“Mmm,” Gwen moans when his lips close over her nipple, his hands stroking her back and rear.
She runs her fingers into his hair, holding his head lightly, feeling the silken texture of his hair between her fingers.
He moves her again, sliding her down until she can feel his erection against her. She moves so that his length is in between her thighs and she slides her legs against him, stroking him with the soft skin of her inner thighs.
“Oh…” he grunts, his hips moving reflexively.
Gwen moves her legs apart so she is straddling him again and sighs, feeling the tip of him slide along her folds, sending pleasurable sensations through her.
“Arthur,” she whispers, moving again, taking his shaft in her hand and placing him at her entrance. She slides down again, leaning back and slowly taking him in.
He groans as she moves over him, rocking her hips, her hands planted on his chest, eyes closed. “Mmm,” she moans again.
Arthur’s hands slide up her torso to cup her breasts, trying to remember to be gentle with her slightly-swollen flesh.
Gwen leans vooruit, voorwaarts now, placing her hands on either side of his head so she can kiss him. She continues to move, but faster now, and Arthur’s hands find her hips, holding on as she rides him.
“Oh, yes,” he whispers when her lips leave his for a moment, and his fingers flex, gripping her tighter now.
“Ah,” Gwen gasps, moving faster, finding the spot she likes, nipping his earlobe, even biting his neck lightly, clinging to the precipice for just a moment longer before letting go.
“Ah! Oh…” she gasps, and a moment later, Arthur follows, plunging into the abyss right along with her, his arms clamping around her back, holding her to him tightly as he groans and stills.
They lay together for a time, Gwen on top, boven of Arthur, her head on his chest and his arms around her. She is so still that Arthur is afraid she’s fallen asleep.
“Guinevere?” he asks softly, moving his hands to trail his fingers on her back.
“Of course I’m awake. I’m just very comfortable,” she says, lifting her head now.
“I’m glad you
are,” he says, shifting a little.
“Oh! Baby, I’m sorry, here I am all cozy layin’ on you, and I forgot that you’re layin’ on the hard floor!” she exclaims, rolling off of him.
They get up somewhat reluctantly and gather their clothes and the blanket. Gwen goes and puts on a nightgown and Arthur puts on a t-shirt and pajama pants. They settle in on the sofa to watch TV for a while, cuddled together.
“So did that meet your expectations for under the tree?” Gwen asks, turning to kiss him.
“Exceeded it, actually, but I can’t help but wonder…” he says, not sure how he wants to phrase the vraag on his mind.
“You’re wonderin’ how a sweet, previously innocent girl like me knew about somethin’ like… that,
” she says, knowing what he’s thinking.
“Arthur, just because I was a good girl my whole life doesn’t mean I didn’t hear things that other, not-so-good girls talked about,” Gwen says, snuggling against him.
“Oh… yes, I suppose that’s true,” he says, kissing the top, boven of her head.
“Did you… like it?” she asked softly, keeping her face pointed away from him now, embarrassed.
“I think u know that I did, darlin’,” Arthur chuckles.
Three hours later, Gwen is asleep in Arthur’s arms, and he carries her to bed. Again. At least this time she’s already in her jammies,
Arthur thinks, tucking her in. He kisses her forehead. “I love you,” he whispers.
“Love you, too, Baby,” Gwen mumbles, cuddling into the bed. Arthur kisses her cheek, then goes back out to the living room to turn off the televisie and the lights, even though he’s not really all that tired.
He finds a book and climbs into bed beside Guinevere, turning on a small bedside lamp. Reading in bed at 10:15 on New Year’s Eve. I’d never hear the end of it if certain people knew.
He looks down at his beautiful, sleeping, pregnant wife and decides that his priorities are right where they should be.
The Monday after New Year’s, Gwen is resting on the couch, contemplating the possibility of grocery shopping, when the phone rings.
“Hello, Guinevere? This is Glenn Barrett from the Education department at UWM,” the voice says.
“Oh, hello, Dr. Barrett,” Gwen says. Well, I guess I do this now.
“I just stopped door the office and saw that your transcripts have arrived. They sent me copies.”
“Oh, um, about that…”
“Your grades are very impressive, I must say. It should be no problem getting u certified, and u may
even be able to gain your certification in enough time to get u in front of a classroom door this fall,” he says, not having heard her start to speak.
“Dr. Barrett, something has come up and I won’t be seeking my certification after all,” Gwen says quietly.
“What? Is everything all right?”
Gwen is impressed at his concern. “Yes, everything’s fine, nothing to be concerned over. But my husband and I have talked it over and I’ve decided that I’m not going to work.”
“Well, since we last spoke we learned that I’m expecting, and the baby’s due in late August, which is a bit inconvenient for teaching this fall, u see. And it’s important to me to be home pagina with my baby.”
“Oh. Oh! Um, congratulations to u both,” he says, surprised. “I must admit I am disappointed, your transcripts are stellar and I was looking vooruit, voorwaarts to meeting you.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but sometimes the Lord has plans that are different than our own, if u don’t mind my saying.”
“Yes, I understand completely. I was surprised with twins fifteen years ago,” he chuckles.
“Oh, goodness, so u do understand,” Gwen says, laughing, but her brain is suddenly on high alert. Twins?? I hadn’t even considered that possibility!
“Well, if u ever change your mind, u have my number,” Dr. Barrett says. “Best of luck to u and the new baby.”
“Thank you, sir. Happy New Year,” she says.
“Happy New jaar to you, too.”
Part 31: link