“I’ll write you some specific instructions, but basically you aren’t allowed to exert yourself. That also means no more jet-setting around. Try to relax and take it easy. I’m sure your husband can arrange for that.”
Amandine nodded. From the look in Gavin’s eyes, he was planning to hire a regiment of Marines who’d hover over her until she delivered the baby.
“Eat healthy, small meals and snacks. Follow the instructions and you should be fine.”
“Anything else we need to know about?” Gavin asked.
“No. I think she’ll do well. She’s young and healthy, and we’re on top of it.” Dr. Silverman turned to Amandine. “Don’t worry. Stress is the worst thing for you right now.”
She nodded.
“I’ll have her discharged. Have somebody with her today, and if you don’t feel well or have any concerns, please don’t hesitate to call. I’ll want to see her again next week.”
“Done,” Gavin said.
The doctor walked out.
He looked at Brooke. “Got her number?”
“Yup. Sending it to you right now.” She pressed a few keys on her phone. “Think we need more people for Amandine? If you want, I can stay with her until you’re done at the office today.”
“That’d be great. Thanks,” Gavin said. “I have a couple of appointments, but I should be home around nine.” He gazed out the window, thinking. “See if you can get a live-in nurse for Amandine, to start ASAP. Also, check to see that we have enough of the right type of food in the house.”
Brooke nodded, making notes. “I could move in until you can get a nurse.”
“An excellent idea. We’ll probably need a wheelchair as well, just in case Amandine feels too weak to walk.”
Amandine watched the discussion with her eyebrows raised, then finally raised a hand. “Excuse me.”
“Eh?” Gavin blinked as though he’d just noticed her.
“I’m right here, you know. What about my input?”
“Your input is going to be limited to doing as you’re told,” he responded.
Her mouth parted, she stared at him. There wasn’t even a hint of sarcasm in his voice or on his face. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m very serious. You’re sick, and I’m not letting you do anything. The doctor said modified bed rest. That means you’re going to be a good girl and let everyone else take care of you.”
Amandine closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “You know that’s going to drive me nuts, right?”
“If you want, you can draw in bed,” Brooke offered.
“What if I want to paint?”
Brooke frowned. “Might be a little messy.”
“A little mess is nothing. If we have to, we’ll replace the sheets,” Gavin said. “Find one of those rolling easel things and have it modified so that it’ll fit over the bed.”
Brooke nodded. “Great.” She turned to Amandine. “When you get tired of painting, I can keep you company, and we can watch movies and shows and soaps.”
“I don’t want a house full of strangers hovering over me. And I certainly don’t want a live-in nurse. I want some privacy.”
“Absolutely not. You need somebody around to catch you when you faint the next time,” Gavin said.
“I’m not planning to faint again.”
“Was this time planned?”