Barb stayed for the remainder of the day, but it was clear that Simone was learning to manage the nausea on her own. The efficient nurse said her goodbyes just before five o’clock, about the time Cecelia showed up with a huge pan of lasagna and a crusty loaf of French bread.
Cecelia blanched when Simone got teary-eyed. “What did I do?” she asked urgently. “Are you in pain?”
Simone hugged her tightly. “I’m just so glad to see you.”
Her beautiful blonde friend carried everything through to the kitchen. “No garlic on the bread and no heavy spices in the lasagna. I’m determined to fatten you up. You look awful, hon.”
Simone simply shook her head. Was there no one who would lie to her and tell her she looked great? “I feel like I could eat the whole pan. But I won’t,” she said hastily. “My poor stomach is barely speaking to me as it is.”
Cecelia nodded. “It should keep in the fridge for several days. When will you be able to go back to work?”
“I know you’re worried about your campaign, but I’m not going to drop the ball, I promise. I’m planning to go in tomorrow, even if I have to cut the day short.”
The other woman raised one perfect eyebrow. “Please give me some credit. I’m not worried about the campaign, I’m worried about you, Simone. Would you mind telling me why in the world you had to get pregnant right now? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I thought Naomi filled you in.” Simone perched on a stool at the granite counter. She didn’t really want to go through the whole explanation again, especially when it wasn’t all that believable the first time.
Cecelia waved a hand, the one not showcasing her amazing engagement ring. “Naomi tried to put a positive spin on it, but I wasn’t buying it. Since when do you want to be a mother?”
Cecelia’s skepticism stung. “Is that really so hard to imagine?”
“You’ve poured your heart and soul into the agency. You’ve dated one or two...not more than three guys since Hutch headed off to Africa. And never once have you given any indication that your biological clock is ticking any louder than mine or Naomi’s. I know you, girl. Something strange is going on.” Cecelia broke off a warm piece of bread, wrapped it in a paper napkin and handed it to Simone. “Tell Auntie Cee Cee what’s up, or I’ll be forced to resort to blackmail.”
It was a poor choice of words. When Simone flinched, Cecelia frowned. “What did I say? You know I was only kidding. But seriously, Simone. Tell me what the heck is going on.”
Sooner or later the truth would come out. Sooner or later Simone would have to confide in her two best friends. But she still felt raw and guilty about her decision. She needed time to come to terms with what she had done before she came clean completely.
“It’s true,” she muttered. “There’s more to this than you know. I won’t keep it a secret forever. But in the meantime, I need you to be my friend and tell me everything is going to work out fine.”
“Is that because the gorgeous doctor is going to step in and make an honest woman out of you?”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Simone snapped. “Hutch doesn’t deserve to be dragged into my mess.”
“Well, maybe he’ll at least stick around this time.” Cecelia’s dour comment made Simone want to rush to Hutch’s defense. The man had simply followed his dreams and his calling. While she appreciated her friend’s wholehearted support, it really wasn’t fair to paint Hutch as the villain.
“Let’s eat,” Simone said. “The lasagna smells amazing. And if you don’t mind, let’s not talk about Hutch or babies or my sordid secrets. Dr. Fetter says stress can make my nausea worse.”
“Sordid?” Cecelia perked up. “I’m intrigued.”
“You’re also wildly happy, aren’t you?” Simone said, trying to change the subject as she piled a small dollop of lasagna on her plate. “Deacon must be good for you. I’m pretty sure you’re glowing.”
Cecelia’s smile was smug. “He’s amazing. And we’re both thrilled about the baby.”
“I’m very happy for you.”
Cecelia sobered for a moment. “Is it true you’re having triplets?”
Simone nodded. “As long as nothing goes wrong. Sometimes one fetus doesn’t develop. It’s too soon to know.”
“Would you be relieved if you
only had one or two?”
Trust Cecelia to cut to the heart of the matter. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Lord knows how I’ll manage. But now that I know there are three, I want them all so badly. It doesn’t make any sense. I can’t really explain it. All I know is that I would be heartbroken if anything happened to even one of them. I feel like their mother already.”
Cecelia leaned over to hug her. “I get it, hon. This whole pregnancy thing turns the world upside down.” She hesitated, clearly looking for a tactful way to phrase her question. “So how does the good doctor figure into all of this? Naomi said he was here the other night when she came over.”
“He’s the new head of the maternal-fetal department at the hospital. Not my doctor,” Simone said hastily. “I’m Dr. Fetter’s patient. But I’m considered high-risk because of the multiples. Hutch oversees and keep tabs on all the cases.”