It was my idea to go on another double date with Ethan and Sondrine. Although our first effort wasn't an overwhelming success, I wanted to give it another try. Geoffrey protested a bit, saying that he preferred to be alone with me. I told him that where I came from, Valentine's was a cheesy, amateur nonevent and therefore we had two options: blow it off altogether and order a pizza, or share the evening with another couple. I told him I wasn't going to be one of those silly couples sitting alone at a table, all dressed up and eagerly ordering off a jacked-up, prix-fixe menu, and that going to dinner with another couple would temper the whole cheese factor. He reluctantly saw my point and made reservations for four at Daphne's, an Italian restaurant in South Kensington.
On the evening of the fourteenth, Geoffrey and I drove to the restaurant, arriving right on time. Sondrine and Ethan showed up nearly thirty minutes late with that telltale 'I just had sex' look about them: messy hair, flushed cheeks, flustered expressions and all. Of course, I couldn't resist rubbing it in to the always-punctual Ethan, asking, 'What were you two up to that you couldn't get here on time?'
Sondrine smirked, looking exceedingly pleased with herself, and Ethan mumbled guiltily, 'Bad traffic. I'm really sorry, guys.'
I raised my eyebrows and said, 'Uh-huh.
'How much longer do you have?' Sondrine asked.
'Geoffrey says term for twins is about thirty-six or thirty-seven weeks, so I guess I have about six weeks to go.'
Geoffrey looked up from the wine list and gazed adoringly at me. He found my hand under the table and laced his fingers with mine. 'We can barely stand the suspense,' he said.
I saw a tightening in Ethan's face-a look he gets when he's upset where his mouth sort of twitches. I wondered what he was thinking. Just in case he felt excluded by Geoffrey's
'No,' she said stiffly, glancing at Ethan. Now it was her turn to be annoyed. I guess I could empathize with her. If I were dating a guy, I wouldn't want his female friend and her twins aboard in the flat. So she did what I would have done-she elicited disapproval from Geoffrey, her ally apparent. 'Have you seen the room yet?' she asked him.
The tactic worked, because Geoffrey's lips fell into a sharp line. Then he said, 'No. I haven't seen it yet… I've been really busy at work… and looking at flats. I'm trying to find something with a bit more room for us.'
Sondrine lit up. 'You and Darcy are moving in together?'
Geoffrey moved our clasped hands to the top of the table and gave me a look, the English equivalent of 'aw shucks,' while I said, 'Yeah. We're thinking about moving in together.'
'More than thinking about it, darling… We're actively pursuing it, aren't we?'
'Right,' I said. 'That's the plan.'
An awkward silence befell the table where we all just sort of smiled at each other and then looked down at our menus with seeming concentration. A moment later the waiter appeared to take our orders. As it turned out, we all wanted the filet mignon, medium rare. Sondrine and Geoffrey seemed to think that ordering four identical steaks was some sort of breach of etiquette so they changed their orders at the last second, Sondrine opting for the sea bass and Geoffrey going for the rack of lamb.
Throughout dinner, we all made a great effort to keep the conversation lively, but as on New Year's Eve, there was an unmistakable tension, a lot of fake smiles. Bottom line, nobody was having a particularly good time, and I had the feeling that it would be our last double date.
Then, right before our desserts arrived, I excused myself, announcing that it was the longest I had held my pee in nearly two weeks. To my dismay, Sondrine said that she would join me. We weaved our way through the maze of overdressed couples to the bathroom, where she tried to make interstall small talk with me, saying something about what a cute couple Geoffrey and I made. I couldn't bring myself to reciprocate the comment, so I just thanked her instead. That's when I turned to flush and saw a bright red ribbon in the water below. For one brief second, I was confused. Then it registered. I was bleeding. I panicked and wiped. Another smear of blood appeared on the white tissue.
The next few minutes were hazy, but I remember gasping so loudly that Sondrine asked if I was okay. I remember saying no, I wasn't okay. And I remember feeling my heart thudding in my ears, as I crumbled onto the edge of the cold, enamel toilet seat.
'What's wrong, Darcy?' Sondrine asked over the sound of flushing, an automatic hand dryer, and happy female chatter.
I managed to say, 'I'm bleeding.' Then I remember just sitting there in my stall with my underwear down at my ankles, holding my legs together, as if the babies would fall out otherwise. All the while, I visualized the passages I had skimmed over in my pregnancy books. I could see the words on the page: phrases such as 'placenta previa' and 'premature rupture of the membranes' and even the horrifying acronym CLIMB, which stood for 'Center for Loss in Multiple Birth.' I couldn't catch my breath, let alone stand and leave the bathroom.
Some minutes later I heard more commotion as Sondrine announced that a man was entering the restroom. Then I heard Geoffrey's voice outside the stall and the sound of his knuckles rapping hard against the metal door. Somehow I managed to stand, pull up my pants, and swing open the door. I saw Sondrine hovering at Geoffrey's side, and a few other women standing near the sinks, mouths agape.
'Sweetheart, what is it?' he asked me.
'There's blood,' I said, feeling faint at the sound of the word.
'How much blood?' he asked, his brow furrowed.
I turned and pointed downward. The strands of red were dissipating, turning the water a frightening pink hue.
Geoffrey glanced down and then spoke with measured calm. He told me that third-trimester bleeding, particularly with multiples, was not uncommon. He said that everything was going to be fine, but that I needed to go to the hospital.
'Right now?' I said.
'Yes. Ethan's getting my car now.'
'So this is really bad, right?' I asked. 'You're scared, aren't you?'
'No, I'm not scared, sweetheart,' he said.
'Could I be losing my babies?'
No.
Are you sure?
I knew he couldn't possibly be sure of such a thing, but felt grateful when he said yes anyway.
'If I delivered now, would they live?'
He told me that it wouldn't come to that, but that if I had to deliver the babies, I was far enough along that they would survive. 'Everything's going to be just fine,' he kept repeating as he put one arm around me, the other hand at my bent elbow, and guided me out of the bathroom, through the dining room, and past our four plates of beautiful desserts. At the front door, Geoffrey handed the maitre d' his credit card and said, 'We're having a small emergency. I'm very sorry. I'll send someone to collect my card later.'
The drive to the hospital was a blur, but I remember catching glimpses of Ethan's pale, worried face in the rearview mirror. I also remember Geoffrey repeating that everything was going to be fine, just fine. And most of all, I remember thinking that if he turned out to be wrong, if things weren't fine in the end, I wouldn't be able to bear the grief.
When we arrived at the hospital, Geoffrey and I went immediately to a small room on the labor and delivery wing, where a nurse handed me a hospital gown and instructed me to change and wait for my doctor to arrive. Mr. Smith came in minutes later, consulting with Geoffrey for a moment before examining me. He felt inside me with a
