Obediently, Imani nodded and forced herself to believe that.
~~~
“That’s impossible. I’ve worked around supplies like that for years and nothing has ever bothered me.”
“But you’ve never been pregnant before.”
Imani lanced her husband with a look that should have reduced him to ash.
Roman winced and sent the doctor a pleading look. “Help me out here, will you?”
“Roman is right, Imani.” Doctor Wallace Kendall came to the nervous father’s defense.
Roman decided it was best not to smile if he cared about his health. The doctor had come to check on Imani early that morning to deliver his diagnosis. Trace elements of a substance in Imani’s blood had led the doctor and his colleagues to the theory that some compound, she had come across through her museum work, could be responsible. Imani had informed her doctors she’d experienced dizziness and pain prior to blacking out.
“Pregnancy can throw all kinds of things off balance,” Dr. Kendall was saying. “But don’t take my word for it,” he urged when she sent him an impatient look.
“Prove me wrong. Take a week or two off. Focus on your health and we’ll test your blood again and see.”
Silence carried for several seconds, but then Imani nodded stiffly.
Roman left his chair next to her bed, eager to see the doctor out before his wife’s slow temper rose to simmer. “Thanks, Doc,” he shook the man’s hand on his way out.
“I guess you’re happy,” Imani cooly observed when Roman returned. “You never wanted me working at the museum.”
Roman looked hurt. “Did I ever say that?” He put a hand to his chest.
“You didn’t have to.”
“That’s not fair.”
Imani sat with her arms folded over her chest. After a minute, her stubborn posture caved. “Sorry.”
Roman joined her on the bed, squeezed her foot under the covers. “Talk to me.”
She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Roman studied the pink blanket atop the sheets and nodded. “Want me to get your mother? I didn’t want to call them until we talked to the doctor.”
Imani was already waving away the offer. “No please. She’ll hover until the baby leaves for college.”
Roman laughed. “True,” he agreed, quieting to study the blanket again. “Guess I’m it, then. What won’t I understand?”
“Weakness.”
Roman blinked, stunned yet mildly amused. “That’s the last thing you are,” he grinned when she waved her hands in acknowledgement of the hospital room.
“What? You think I’ve never wound up here before? I was laid up for weeks after I fractured my ankle in football when I was-”
“It’s not the same, Roman,” she quietly interrupted.
“Baby,” he chuckled, “this could happen to anyone.”
“Not to me! I’m African!” she whipped back the covers and stalked the room.
Understanding took command of Roman’s expression. Again, he thought it best to keep quiet.
Imani went to stare out from her room window. “Women in my country are strong in mind and body. Pregnancy isn’t something that requires you to lie around in bed for two weeks being waiting on. My ancestors are probably laughing or frowning in shame.”
“Being in the hospital, doesn’t mean you’re weak, Imani.”
“Then what would you call it?”
“I’d call it being helped into this bed when you came in contact with something that put you on your pretty ass. Like Pitch and that damn Nipa they served at our wedding.”
The reminder made Imani smile even as she trudged back to the bed.
Roman moved close once she was tucked in. He propped her chin on his fist and nudged her there to encourage eye contact.
“You’re not weak, Princess. You make your ancestors proud everyday.”
Imani had to laugh when he winked. Her amusement took a slow turn toward uncertainty however. “Tell me it’s going to be okay.”
“I promise it,” he said in a hearty whisper and then let his forehead rest against hers.
~44~
Two Weeks Later...
