night?”
“I don’t think so, Hutch,” Rosemary said. “I haven’t been feeling too well lately. And Guy’s got two commercials this week.”
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing, really. I’ve just been a bit under the weather.”
“May I come up for a few minutes?”
“Oh do; I’d love to see you.”
She hurried into slacks and a jersey top, put on lipstick and brushed her hair. The pain sharpened-locking her for a moment with shut eyes and clenched teeth-and then it sank back to its usual level and she breathed out gratefully and went on brushing.
Hutch, when he saw her, stared and said, “My God.”
“It’s Vidal Sassoon and it’s very in,” she said.
“What’s wrong with you?” he said. “I don’t mean your hair.”
“Do I look that bad?” She took his coat and hat and hung them away, smiling a fixed bright smile.
“You look terrible,” Hutch said. “You’ve lost God-knows-how-many pounds and you have circles around your eyes that a panda would envy. You aren’t on one of those ‘Zen diets,’ are you?”
“No.”
“Then what is it? Have you seen a doctor?”
“I suppose I might as well tell you,” Rosemary said. “I’m pregnant. I’m in my third month.”
Hutch looked at her, nonplussed. “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Pregnant women gain weight, they don’t lose it. And they look healthy, not-“
“There’s a slight complication,” Rosemary said, leading the way into the living room. “I have stiff joints or something, so I have pains that keep me awake most of the night. Well, one pain, really; it just sort of continues. It’s not serious, though. It’ll probably stop any day now.”
“I never heard of ‘stiff joints’ being a problem,” Hutch said.
“Stiff pelvic joints. It’s fairly common.”
Hutch sat in Guy’s easy chair. “Well, congratulations,” he said doubtfully. “You must be very happy.”
“I am,” Rosemary said. “We both are.”
“Who’s your obstetrician?”
“His name is Abraham Sapirstein. He’s-“
“I know him,” Hutch said. “Or of him. He delivered two of Doris’s babies.” Doris was Hutch’s elder daughter.
“He’s one of the best in the city,” Rosemary said.
“When did you see him last?”
“The day before yesterday. And he said just what I told you; it’s fairly common and it’ll probably stop any day now. Of course he’s been saying that since it started . . .”
“How much weight have you lost?”
“Only three pounds. It looks-“
“Nonsense! You’ve lost far more than that!”
Rosemary smiled. “You sound like our bathroom scale,” she said. “Guy finally threw it out, it was scaring me so. No, I’ve lost only three pounds and one little space more. And it’s perfectly normal to lose a little during the first few months. Later on I’ll be gaining.”
“I certainly hope so,” Hutch said. “You look as if you’re being drained by a vampire. Are you sure there aren’t any puncture marks?” Rosemary smiled. “Well,” Hutch said, leaning back and smiling too, “we’ll assume that Dr. Sapirstein knows whereof he speaks. God knows he should; he charges enough. Guy must be doing sensationally.”
“He is,” Rosemary said. “But we’re getting bargain rates. Our neighbors the Castevets are close friends of his; they sent me to him and he’s charging us his special non-Society prices.”
“Does that mean Doris and Axel are Society?” Hutch said. “They’ll be delighted to hear about it.”
The doorbell rang. Hutch offered to answer it but Rosemary wouldn’t let him. “Hurts less when I move around,” she said, going out of the room; and went to the front door trying to recall if there was anything she had ordered that hadn’t been delivered yet.
It was Roman, looking slightly winded. Rosemary smiled and said, “I mentioned your name two seconds ago.”
“In a favorable context, I hope,” he said. “Do you need anything from outside? Minnie is going down in a while and our house phone doesn’t seem to be functioning.”
“No, nothing,” Rosemary said. “Thanks so much for asking. I phoned out for things this morning.”
Roman glanced beyond her for an instant, and then, smiling, asked if Guy was home already.
“No, he won’t be back until six at the earliest,” Rosemary said; and, because Roman’s pallid face stayed waiting with its questioning smile, added, “A friend of ours is here.” The questioning smile stayed. She said, “Would you like to meet him?”
“Yes, I would,” Roman said. “If I won’t be intruding.”
“Of course you won’t.” Rosemary showed him in. He was wearing a blackand-white checked jacket over a blue shirt and a wide paisley tie. He passed close to her and she noticed for the first time that his ears were pierced-that the left one was, at any rate.
She followed him to the living-room archway. “This is Edward Hutchins,” she said, and to Hutch, who was rising and smiling, “This is Roman Castevet, the neighbor I just mentioned.” She explained to Roman: “I was telling Hutch that it was you and Minnie who sent me to Dr. Sapirstein.”
The two men shook hands and greeted each other. Hutch said, “One of my daughters used Dr. Sapirstein too. On two occasions.”
“He’s a brilliant man,” Roman said. “We met him only last spring but he’s become one of our closest friends.”
“Sit down, won’t you?” Rosemary said. The men seated themselves and Rosemary sat by Hutch.
Roman,said, “So Rosemary has told you the good news, has she?”
“Yes, she has,” Hutch said.
“We must see that she gets plenty of rest,” Roman said, “and complete freedom from worry and anxiety.”
Rosemary said, “That would be heaven.”
“I was a bit alarmed by her appearance,” Hutch said, looking at Rosemary as he took out a pipe and a striped rep tobacco pouch.
“Were you?” Roman said.
“But now that I know she’s in Dr. Sapirstein’s care I feel considerably relieved.”
“She’s only lost two or three pounds,” Roman said. “Isn’t that so, Rosemary?”
“That’s right,” Rosemary said.
“And that’s quite normal in the early months of pregnancy,” Roman said. “Later on she’ll gain-probably far too much.”
“So I gather,” Hutch said, filling his pipe.
Rosemary said, “Mrs. Castevet makes a vitamin drink for me every day, with a raw egg and milk and fresh herbs that she grows.”
“All according to Dr. Sapirstein’s directions, of course,” Roman said. “He’s inclined to be suspicious of commercially prepared vitamin pills.”
“Is he really?” Hutch asked, pocketing his pouch. “I can’t think of anything I’d be less suspicious of; they’re surely manufactured under every imaginable safeguard.” He struck two matches as one and sucked flame into his pipe, blowing out puffs of aromatic white smoke. Rosemary put an ashtray near him.
“That’s true,” Roman said, “but commercial pills can sit for months in a warehouse or on a druggist’s shelf and lose a great deal of their original potency.”
“Yes, I hadn’t thought of that,” Hutch said; “I suppose they can.”
Rosemary said, “I like the idea of having everything fresh and natural. I’ll bet expectant mothers chewed bits of tannis root hundreds and hundreds of years ago when nobody’d even heard of vitamins.”
