"No dammit! What I witnessed was not natural! It would not surprise me to find out that all the lining in her stomach is in the sewer. It was a wretched sight."
Turning away, she went towards the liquor cabinet to pour a glass of wine. She had deliberately lingered over drinks while at the function—to give him enough time to spend with Yasmine. She knew her son and there was no way he could remain immune after this.
"Where the hell is the doctor and the bloody nurse?"
She turned around. "Charlene had to leave town, and the nurse had an emergency."
"What?" He just resisted dragging his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "Both of them are unavailable? What the hell are we paying them for?"
"They'll both be back tomorrow and this is a normal occurrence for a pregnant woman." She settled on a chaise and crossed her legs. "Why, I was violently ill for the first six months when I was pregnant with you."
The color drained from his face, and he had to lean against the mantle for support. "She's only three months pregnant. You're telling me she has another three months of this?" He flung out his hand. "Of puking up everything? Of going through all of that?"
"Now darling—" She began, alarmed at the sickened expression on his face.
"Why? Why the hell is she putting herself through it?"
"To give us a baby." She reminded him.
"Is she that hard up for cash? How the hell can she do this?" He groped for the chair and simply sank down, his knees weak. "Can the pregnancy be terminated?"
"What?" Eleanor blinked at him, the delight she was feeling at his concern, dissolving.
"She's only three months into it. Surely an abortion—"
"Don't!" He jolted at the sharp tone of his mother's voice. "How can you talk that way about your own baby?"
"It's not a baby yet." His voice was tight. "And what I saw with my own eyes was inhumane. No one should have to go through what I saw tonight."
Her shoulders went straight. "I went through something similar. Are you saying that it was not worth it?" This time she did not have to pretend to be haughty.
"It's different," he muttered.
"How?"
"You were doing it because you wanted the child. You wanted me. At the end of the allotted time, she will have to give up thebaby. All of what she goes through will be for nothing. I don't want anyone to make that kind of sacrifice for me. This was a bad idea to begin with, and we should consider—"
"I hope I am not interrupting."
"My dear—"
"What the hell are you doing up?"
"Please stop shouting. It's making my headache worse."
Eleanor watched in amazement as he sprang up and rushed towards Yasmine.
"You have a headache?" He gripped her arms. "How bad?"
"It gets worse when you shout and dig your fingers in my flesh."
He let go immediately and stumbled back. "You should be in bed." He started to reach for her again, but she evaded him. Turning to look at Eleanor, she gave the woman a fleeting smile. "I just came down to get something to eat. My stomach is empty."
"I will make you some soup."
"I don't want to trouble you."
"No trouble at all." She rose gracefully and glanced at her son. "Why don't you go upstairs my dear and I'll have Conail bring the meal to you?"