Lisa clenched her teeth tightly as the wave of nausea passed over her. She glanced at the timer set on the bathroom sink and closed her eyes. Just five more minutes… Not that there’s any real doubt, is there?
Philippe peeked around the corner of the door, wary. Lisa’s temper had been a byword for the last week, and he didn’t want to set her off.
She smiled wanly. “It’s okay. I won’t snap your head off.”
He entered, sat down beside her on the side of the bathtub and handed her a mug of steaming hot licorice tea.
“Are you sure this will work?”
“Yes.” He gave her a sideways glance. “I guarantee it. I remember… Maman… Stephane. It’ll help.”
She sipped slowly and he put his arm around her to pull her close.
“I love you, Philippe.”
“I know, ma belle. And I cherish you.”
The timer chimed. They both started, and then exchanged a long look.
“You look,” she said. “I can’t.”
Philippe stretched out one long arm and picked up the stick. “If there’s a line, yes?”
A smile slowly spread across his face, like the sun dawning in the bathroom’s small window. He pulled her to him more tightly and kissed her on top of her head. “So, what shall we name him?”