"Little bit of water damage on the ceiling," the Realtor said, pointing over the sink in the first floor half-bath. Water rushed through the walls. "Nothing to worry about, just from some old pipes. They got replaced a few years ago."
"Is that why the price is so low?" Dave asked.
"They came down a little bit." The Realtor led them back into the kitchen. "They're an old couple, and they haven't lived here for nearly a decade." She stood, hands on her hips and a plastic smile on her face. "That's everything! Any questions?"
Jennifer turned to her husband. "I like it."
"So do I," Dave said. "Good location, close to the bakery, nice yard for Nana, plenty of space."
"We'll have to think about it," Jennifer said. "But...I have a good feeling about this place."
Two Weeks
Their friends departed into the twilight, waving backward, and Dave threw out the empty pizza boxes and beer cans. Boxes of pans, utensils, hot pads, glasses, dishes, and Dave's prized aprons crowded the already-small kitchen, and the master bedroom had it worse, full of unbuilt furniture and boxed clothes. Fresh April breezes lingered near the windows of the hot house.
Nana followed Dave back and forth across the kitchen, and for her attention a few crusts fell onto the tile, where she snarfed them. Dave ran his hand through the dog's shaggy golden fur, tracking through a puddle. "Control your licker, your disgusting beast!" he said, fetching a paper towel and wiping the drool. Nana ignored him, and when Jennifer appeared, Nana greeted her with the same happy, vapid grin.
"Is it going to work?" Dave asked.
"Don't know, hun. I really hope it does." Jennifer smoothed her hands over her stomach. "I know I need to take it easy, but I don't want to sit still. I want to get this place in shape."
"Don't worry," Dave said, as he pulled out plates. "This place will feel like a home in no time."
"I don't want this to feel like home." Jennifer crossed her arms. "Home is hurt and pain and...emptiness."
Dave nodded. "Then may we never feel at home."
Five Weeks
"Do you hear that?" Jennifer asked in the kitchen doorway. Nana wedged between her feet.
Dave looked up from his newest cookbook. "Whuzzah?"
"That music?"
"I...hear the rain," Dave said, peaking an eyebrow. He noted something in the book.
"You really can't hear that?"
"No, I can't hear anything else.
"You don't hear that music?"
"No, Jennifer. Jennifer, no. I can hear the rain-" Dave glanced to the side. Over a shelf of cookbooks, gray light filtered through a rain-smeared window. "And I hear you talking, and Nana's nails clicking, and her tail hitting your legs, and the clock in the dining room, and the fan running, but I don't hear any music."
"It sounds like one of those old music boxes, almost. But really far away, or buried under something." Jennifer stood still, gazing into a high corner of the room.
"Sorry hon, I don't hear anything like that." Dave sighed. "Want anything specific for dinner?"
"As long as you don't make that biscuit recipe again."
"If I could get it right, I'd stop. They're so soggy, even after baking. They taste like mush. I've been putting less and less water in, but there's always too much."
"No preference for dinner, then," Jennifer said. She exited, and Nana trailed after her.
Dave turned toward the oven and slid through a puddle. "Where...Ugh, Nana." Dave grabbed a towel from the pile on the counter and started mopping.
Six Weeks
Dave pulled one end of the torn-up toy, and Nana's jaws clamped on the other. The dog dug her paws into the living room carpet as play growls slipped past her jaws. A sweet chocolate scent filled the lower level of the house, and a timer ticked over the oven.
Jennifer poked her head in from the hallway. "I'm taking a shower."
"Okay," Dave said. Nana yanked the toy out of his hand. "Be careful."
"I promise," Jennifer said, walking into the hallway and up the stairs.
"I'll get something of Nana for Instagram. Suraya and Luke have been crushing us. How can a Golden Retriever compete with a mixed-race baby?" Dave said as she closed the bathroom door. "C'mon, Nana, look cuter."
Jennifer began to undress. Staring herself down in the mirror, she ran her hands over her middle.
A tiny bulge. A bit of extra, something no one would look twice at, especially since her husband owns a bakery. A pudge. A belly.
Maybe cookies. Maybe something else.
She took a big breath, and exhaled through her nose until her lungs hurt. She turned to the tub. Whipping back the curtain, she bent to turn the water on, and halted.
She wrapped a towel around herself and cracked the door open. "Dave? Did you use the shower today?"
A moment later Dave stood next to Jennifer. Water filled the tub. Nana sat in the hall. "That's weird. Maybe...." He reached under the water. Running his hand along the porcelain bottom, he found the plug and yanked. The water began to swirl away. "It's cold. Did you plug it?"
"No, why would I plug it?"
"I dunno, maybe you were washing Nana or something." The dog stepped closer but didn't enter the bathroom. "A leak in the faucet maybe. Hopefully it isn't something expensive. We should keep an eye on it. Have a good shower," he said.
Jennifer sat on the closed toilet as the tub drained. The last of the water gurgled away, and she removed the towel. As she hung it up, shivering in the hard, cold, painful room, music came to her, sudden and distant.
Raindrops hitting a metal roof. Tiny splashes of water in a lake. The far upper keys of a piano. She shivered, and turned the shower on, and hot. Splashing drowned out the music.
Eight Weeks
David placed his thumb over the hose's opening and aimed it toward the garden, spraying back and forth. "Mint's coming in nice!" he called over his shoulder, where Jennifer lounged in the hot sun, one arm over her abdomen and sunglasses over her eyes. "And the--Nana, get out of there!" He directed the hose's full force at the dog, who had no idea she had done anything wrong. She ran up to Dave, muddy up to her stomach. "Damn." He sprayed the dog again, who fled. "No, Nana, come back! It's either this or the tub! Mangy mutt! Get back here and let me clean you!"
"I remember when you said that to me the first time," Jennifer said, eyes on her book.
Dave grabbed Nana's collar. "Sit." Nana fell to her butt, tail swishing over the grass. "Lie down." She lowered herself, gazing up at him. "Stay."
He ran inside and grabbed a rag from the "Nana pile" on the counter, and started wiping her off. "Stop enjoying this so much! I swear, goldens make anything look fun."
"A smarter dog would realize she did something wrong," Jennifer said, and then she bent over the side of the lounge chair and vomited.
The beige sludge covered the grass. Jennifer sucked in a huge breath and retched again. Dave's hands grabbed her shoulders and steadied her until the spell had passed. "Look's like Nana isn't the only one getting a bath today," he said.
At the word, Nana sprang up and pelted to a corner of the yard. Jennifer tried to stand, but wobbled after a step. Dave helped her back down. Her hands grasped her stomach. Vomit stained the front of her shirt and dripped off her chin.
"David?"
Dave looked over his shoulder, at the fence. A head of feathery white hair and a pair of old eyes looked in, concerned. "Is everything all right over there?"
"Louise, oh, uh, everything's not all right, no." Dave turned to Jennifer. "I'm making an executive decision." Jennifer nodded, groaning. "Jen gets some bad afternoon sickness."
Louise exited her yard and ran to the entrance to theirs. Jennifer retched, disgorging saliva. David held her shoulders still. "Let's get you up, Jennifer."
"David, the baby-"
"It's just afternoon sickness, hon, don't worry. It's a good sign, remember? Let's get you out of those clothes. Louise, if you could give me a hand," Dave said.
"Come on, Mom," Louise said. "I know you probably feel disgusting now, but let me tell you, it's nothing compared to when I gave birth to Brian. Lordy Lord, that boy was trouble before he even came out." Louise led Jennifer inside, holding her arms and keeping her on her feet.
Dave cringed away from the bold smell of Jennifer's half-digested lunch as she leaned on him. Louise continued her stories about a life long-lived as the three of them made their way up the stairs. Dave led the way into the bathroom, switching on the light. He wrenched open the curtain and turned on the faucet, and water splashed into water.
He froze and glanced at the tub. Already full, the water flowing into it threatened to spill over the side. Shutting it off, he plunged his hand into freezing water and yanked the drain open, and frowned as it sucked water down. "Why...." He shook his head and darted back to Jennifer, helping to remove her clothes.
"I bet you normally love this!" Louise said, cackling.
"Usually, yeah," he said. Amid weak gags and groans, Jennifer got the rest of her clothes off as Dave grabbed a washcloth to soak it in hot water from the sink.
Nothing came out. He leaned forward, and tapped the faucet. He twisted the knob back and forth, then turned it off. The cold water drained out of the tub as Louise talked.
He grabbed the dial for the tub.
Frozen air swept up at him, and goosebumps shot through his body. A distant song played.
Small tinks, or pings. A tiny, tinny bit of music coming from another room. Dave lowered his head toward the drain.
The music increased. He peered into the drain, mouth hanging open. A small section of peaceful, calm music repeated, echoing up through the pipes.
"David?"
He looked up at Louise and the bare Jennifer. He plugged the drain and turned the water to hot. It jetted out of the faucet into the tub, and banished the goosebumps from his arms.
"We're all right now, Louise, thanks," Dave said, phone against his head and feet on the coffee table as he sat on the couch. Jennifer's feet filled his lap, and Nana slept on the floor in arm's reach. An empty glass of lemon water sat on the table near Jennifer. "Jennifer feels better. Oh, I'm sure there's somebody out there who thinks afternoon sickness determines the gender. Oh, uh, about that, we haven't actually made an announcement yet, so...I appreciate it. Yeah. I'll bake something nice for you this weekend. Oh sure, I've got a couple of primo recipes for dark chocolate. Thanks again. Bye."
"You ever just been sitting and doing nothing," Jennifer said. One arm lay over her eyes and the other on her abdomen. "And then bam, vomit?" She paused for a few seconds. "It sure is something."
"I bet," Dave said. "It happened pretty suddenly."
"I admit I wasn't feeling particularly amazing before it happened, but it still surprised me," Jennifer said.
"Mmm. Okay." David picked up an expense report for the bakery, then put it down again. "That thing happened again."
"What thing."
"The tub was full of water. And the sink wouldn't work."
"I barely noticed." Jennifer removed her arm from her eyes. "I used the sink after dinner."
"And I could have sworn I heard music coming out of the tub drain."
Jennifer stared at the ceiling. "You know, I think I heard that when I found the tub full."
Dave sighed. "I'll call a plumber tomorrow, see if he can figure out what's going on."
"You think a plumber will know where the music is coming from?"
"I think a plumber will realize it's just pipes clanging and banging around inside the walls, and will know how to fix it, so the faucets work when they're supposed to, and only when they're supposed to."
"I don't think it was pipes."
"What was it then?" Dave asked, flipping through receipts. When Jennifer didn't answer, he patted her leg. "Doesn't really matter what it is, I guess, as long as you're not puking all over it."
Nine Weeks
The plumber rubbed his chin and reached out a slow hand. He grabbed the dial between thumb and forefinger.
He turned the dial and water trickled out. He turned it farther and the flow increased. He crouched, hands on his knees, unblinking, as the water washed into the sink, and then he raised a hand to the dial and shut it off.
He straightened up. Jennifer leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over her stomach. Nana sat behind her in the hallway, eyes narrowed at the stranger in her house. "Sorry ma'am. It certainly isn't happening now, and I can't think of any reason why it would have happened at all. Can't say anything else besides...." The plumber lifted his hands and shrugged. "You forgot to drain it."
"And the music?" Jennifer asked.
The plumber shook his head. "I don't know what you were hearing, but it wasn't coming from the pipes."
Jennifer let her head loll forward and rubbed the back of her neck. "There's really nothing you can do?"
"A doctor doesn't prescribe medicine if there are no symptoms, ma'am." Jennifer let him exit the bathroom. "If it starts happening more often, or doesn't stop, I'll come right back."
They went downstairs to the kitchen, and the plumber handed her an invoice. "Just the diagnostic fee. Happy Monday."
"Thanks," Jennifer said. They shook hands, the plumber ruffled the fur on the top of Nana's head, and he departed.
Jennifer put the invoice on the counter and picked up a container of dark chocolate brownies, paused to bend toward them and inhale, and exited the house. She went to the end of the yard, dodging water from the sprinkler next door, and slipped through the gate, trapping Nana, then went next door.
She rapped on Louise's back door, and a few seconds later Louise let her in.
"Good to see you, Jennifer! Oh, don't they look lovely! Let me put these on a plate and you can have your bin right back. How do you feel? Have you been all right since last week? Do you need to sit? Here, here, sit, sit."
"I've been all right," Jennifer said, sitting at the kitchen table. "It...should fade soon." But if it stays around for a few months, I'd be fine with that.
"Sickness doesn't last past the first trimester," Louise said, and busied herself moving the brownies onto a dish. "Let's see...second month. I bet you've got a little bump hiding!" Jennifer opened her mouth to answer but Louise barreled ahead. "Was that a plumber you just had over? These old houses, I swear, every month a floorboard comes loose, or a fuse breaks, or a section of the roof peels right off."
"We've been having some trouble with the bathroom upstairs," Jennifer said. "The faucet didn't work, and-"
"Goodness, aren't these moist! They practically melt in your mouth. Would you like one?"
Jennifer laughed and held up her hand. "Don't worry, Louise, I've eaten plenty of Dave's treats. It's hard work keeping healthy with a baker husband." She patted her stomach. "I'm trying to limit myself."
"Well you needn't worry about putting on a few pounds!" Louise said. Heat swarmed up Jennifer's neck into her face, and she tried to brace herself. "It's good cushioning for the baby!"
The room spun. Her throat slammed shut. She tried to stand but ended up slumping forward onto the table, eyes straining open and breath whistling in and out.
"Oh no, no, no...." Louise came around the table and placed her hands on Jennifer's shoulders. "Dear, no, oh, I'm so sorry."
Tears dripped onto the kitchen table, and Jennifer put her hands to her face to block them. "Let them out, let them out," Louise said in a murmur. "I'm so sorry dear, I didn't know...."
Ten minutes later Jennifer gazed at the half-eaten brownie in front of her. "That's how Dave got me to fall in love with him," she said. Louise brushed her hair. "He loved baking even in high school, and when we met in college he would bring me all these treats because he was 'practicing.' I had to start giving them to other people just so I didn't gain too much weight. It's how he loves." She put a few fingers to her lip. A dot of blood. She'd bitten her tongue.
"I can tell he loves you," Louise said, teasing her bangs. "There. You look lovely."
"Thanks for understanding, Louise."
"Of course, dear." Louise pulled Jennifer's head close. "If you need anything, you let me know. We moms should stick together. Now, why don't you go home and get some rest."
"You were telling me about the bathroom," Louise said, holding Jennifer's arm as they exited the house. Nana's nose peeked over the fence, and she lowered herself to all four paws when Jennifer appeared. "Was it only the faucet?"
Jennifer shook her head. "No, the tub has filled up with water a few times."
Louise chuckled as they entered Jennifer's yard. "Hopefully you didn't hear any music!"
Jennifer froze. The sprinkler in the next yard spat water into the air, and some of it flew into her eyes. "Music?"
Louise paused in front of the steps to Jennifer's back door. "The old owners, the Bensons, kept telling us they could hear music when the tub was empty. They said, they said...oh what did they say?"
Jennifer's stomach turned over. She swallowed, and took a deep breath.
"It was like from a music box," Louise said at last. "I know you kids are young, but you've probably heard of them, at least."
Jennifer rushed inside, Nana at her heels. When she went upstairs she halted at the bathroom door. She strained her ears into the dark room, and a drop of water plinked into the sink.
"You're kidding," Dave said that night.
Jennifer shook her head. She stirred a stew in the slow cooker. "Said it was like from an old music box. You know, you lift the lid and it plays with gears and things."
"Gears and things," Dave repeated as he stared at the wall. His bag hung in his hand, swaying every time Nana's tail smacked it. He set it down by his shoes. "What did the plumber say?"
"He didn't find anything. He couldn't give an explanation, and it's not like he was just going to start tearing pipes out of the walls."
"No. I guess not. That's...strange."
Something cold dripped onto the base of Jennifer's neck. She reached up to brush it away but found nothing. "I was going to say eerie," she said, staring at her hand.
"There can't be anything eerie about it. Like It's probably just pipes rattling or something. Water pressure." Dave hugged her. "It just gets our hackles up." He rested his chin on her shoulder. "How's my girl?"
Jennifer hesitated, staring into the slow cooker. "Louise knows about..." her hand brushed her abdomen. "She knows."
Dave nodded as he rubbed her back. "Did the plumber say anything else?"
"If things start happening again, or happening at all, he'll come back." Jennifer rapped the ladle to dislodge chunks of stew. "Dinner's ready. Wash up."
Dave kissed her cheek. "At least he didn't charge too much. I'll be back in a second," Dave said, exiting the dining room.
He poked his head back in. "Actually, I got some good news today. Luke and Suraya are going to be in the country in a few months. Can we have them over for dinner?" He said, giving Jennifer his best puppy-dog eyes.
Twenty Weeks
"So I point at Suraya," Luke said, jabbing his long, skinny index finger at her, "and I say 'why don't you ask my wife?'"
They all burst into laughter. Luke and Suraya's son, Tony, with short black hair and caramel-colored skin, laughed along. Nana went from person to person under the dinner table, snuffling around their feet, but spent most of her time under Tony, eyes keen for morsels.
"It certainly took sweet time getting the clinic set up," Suraya said. "And even longer until people trusted us enough to come to us for aid, but it's busy now. The lead doctor being married to an Indian nurse certainly helps."
"It must!" Jennifer said. Her blouse flowed over her bump, and the third trimester clothes waited in the closet. "Only able to get away for a few weeks out of the entire year!"
"And even then, conferences and meetings most of the time. When do you two sleep?" Dave asked.
"When we can, I suppose." Luke leaned back and rubbed his belly. After a moment, he leaned forward again. "Enough about us, we've been doing all the talking! How's the bakery doing?"
"Jen, you look so healthy!" Suraya said, as Dave began telling Luke about ovens, health inspectors, and croissants. "You are aglow, I swear. Let's see...five months?"
"The sickness is gone, thank goodness. The grass is still a little discolored from the first time it hit, but at least the leaves will start to cover it."
They told stories and laughed at each other's jokes. Luke rose to use the restroom, and a few seconds later Tony spilled juice down his front.
"Oh, no!" Suraya grabbed her napkin and started dabbing. "Sorry Jen," she said, and then her arm knocked the rest of Tony's dish into the child's lap. Fragrant Indian spices filled the air, and Suraya said something in harsh Hindi. "Sorry, honey, mom didn't mean to say that," she said as she picked peas out and put them back in the plate. "Look at you getting all messy." Tony only giggled, grabbing at his mother's hands. "I'll just take him upstairs and get him cleaned up." Suraya left, Nana trailing her, and a moment later the stairs creaked.
A few seconds later a yelp came from the downstairs bathroom. The door flung open and Luke ran out. "Dave...the sink!"
Dave shot up and ran into the bathroom. The faucet sprayed water, filling the sink past its overflow. The water ran over the sides onto the counter and splashed onto the floor. "It won't shut off!" Luke said.
The faucet gushed like an open wound. Dave tried the dials. "I'm sorry Dave, I don't know what happened!" Luke said. "Shutoff valve?"
The seat for the toilet lifted up and banged against the tank, and water sprayed out of the bowl like a geyser. "Jesus!" Dave went to it, arm shielding his eyes, and tried to push the seat back down, put the water's pressure lifted it right back off.
"What's happening?" Jennifer said, from the hall, as water flowed out of the room and into the carpet by her feet, and she stepped back. "I'm going to shut the water off!"
She turned and ran toward the basement stairs, but got no more than a few steps when Nana barked and Suraya shrieked from upstairs. Jennifer slid to a halt and ran up the stairs. Suraya waited in the upper hall, carrying a still-messy Tony. She cringed away from the bathroom.
Nana stood between Suraya and the bathroom, paws spread on the ground and teeth barred into the empty porcelain room. Her tail hung between her legs and her head sank low to the ground. "Suraya?"
"The tub was full of water," the woman said. "I didn't think anything of it, but when I tried to turn on the faucet, nothing came out."
Jennifer grabbed Nana and dragged her back, and the dog calmed somewhat, ceasing her growls but huddling next to Suraya. Jennifer glanced into the bathroom. The tub, curtain drawn back, washed back and forth, spilling drops of water over the side. "That, uh, that happens sometimes. We're still trying to figure it out."
"Nana was sitting in the hallway," Suraya said. "And she started growling and snarling, like she was going to attack."
Jennifer almost laughed. "Nana would never do something like that."
Suraya stared at the tub. The water kept splashing. "I...while I was trying to get the sink to go...there was someone in the tub."
Jennifer whipped her head around. "What?"
"A person. A child, I think. It surprised me, and I stumbled back." Suraya gestured at the counter beside the sink. Lotion bottles, toothpaste, brushes, and deodorant sat in disarray. "I pulled open the curtain, but there was no one there." She pointed at Nana. "Nana barked, and that's what made me shriek." Suraya took a breath. "I-I don't know what really happened, it was all just so fast."
"Suraya," Jennifer said. She reached in from the hall and shut off the light in the bathroom. "Did you hear anything?"
"Hear?" Suraya pursed her lips and shook her head. "I head that commotion downstairs. Why?"
"We've had some trouble with the pipes," Jennifer said, and the familiar ripple of gorge rising up her throat began. She swallowed and took a deep breath. "They make...clanging sounds sometimes."
"No, I didn't heard anything."
"Okay, okay." Jennifer brushed hair out of her face. "We've had a little bit of an issue with the downstairs bathroom and had to shut off the water, so you won't be able to clean Tony."
Suraya tsked. "What did Luke do now? Don't worry about it, we're plenty used to not having clean water. I've got my water bottle, I can just wet some rags and get all this off him." She shook her head and went down the stairs toward Dave's and Luke's voices.
Jennifer peered into the bathroom for a few more seconds, Nana at her side. Water continued splashing back and forth in the dark room, tinkling onto the tile floor, and she left before it could shape itself into music.
Dave grunted as he mopped the downstairs bathroom floor. Jennifer sat in the hall, cross-legged, tracking him back and forth as Nana panted moist air into her face. "Do we need to call the plumber again?"
He stood up straight and leaned the mop against the wall. "The sink, and the toilet, and the tub all started spraying water. I shut the water off and it stopped. After Suraya and Luke left, I turned it back on and it was fine. What are the odds he's just going to come and not find anything wrong again?"
"Something's wrong," Jennifer said. "Something weird is going on."
"Was Suraya sure she saw something in the tub?"
"It was a shadow." Jennifer put her arm around Nana. "Like someone was in the tub. When she pulled the curtain back there was nobody."
"Come on," Dave said, exiting the bathroom and past her into the hallway. She followed him up the stairs, one hand locked around the banister.
He stopped in front of the upstairs bathroom. The light from the hall glanced off the tile floor and tub, and reflected back at him from the mirror. Jennifer stood next to him, and Nana leaned against her leg, tail drooping between her hind legs.
"There's nothing in here," Dave said, and he turned on the light. "It was just-"
He froze. Jennifer gasped. Nana growled.
Water trickled out of the shower head at a constant tattoo, tinkling down into the bare tub. A steady pattern, chiming on the surface. Jennifer's breath stopped in her throat. Dave's hand, halfway to the light switch inside the bathroom, shook in midair.
The baby kicked, and Jennifer's hand shot to her stomach. Her breath resumed, and she grabbed Dave's other hand. His fingers inched around the bathroom door frame until they reached the switch, and then fluorescent light filled the room. The trickling water stopped.
Dave stepped inside and tore the curtain back. Water drained out the bottom of the otherwise-empty tub.
Twenty-one Weeks
Jennifer retrieved cookies from the refrigerator, inhaled the sweet smell, and walked next door again.
Louise opened the door a few seconds after Jennifer knocked. "Hi, Louise." Jennifer looked down at the plate in her hands. "Dave wanted to try this new recipe out...he figured you wouldn't mind being a guinea pig, since I'm trying not to have too many sweets."
Ten seconds later she sat at the kitchen table as Louise talked. About the weather, about the traffic, about all the planes overhead, about the cold snap the night before, about Dave's bakery, about the delicious cookies. Jennifer listened and gave nominal responses for a few minutes.
"Louise," she said at last, halting the one-sided conversation. "The people who sold us our house...did they ever say anything else about the bathroom?"
"The Bensons? Oh, they were always going on about it. You should have heard them ramble. They even replaced some of the pipes to try and get it to stop," Louise said. She placed a cup of decaf coffee in front of Jennifer and sat across from her. "But the noises just kept happening." She sipped her own coffee. "And they kept talking about it."
"Did they ever...." Jennifer ran her tongue along the inside of her teeth. "Did they ever mention anything else happening?" She looked at her stomach, then up. "Did they ever talk about the faucets leaking? Or did the faucets ever stop working?"
Louise opened her mouth, then turned her head. Her eyes wandered up to the ceiling. "I remember them talking about something else...."
Jennifer held herself still. The kitchen faucet dripped and her eyes snapped to it.
"...Oh, but I don't remember what it was. They were always going on about it, about one thing or another."
Jennifer exhaled out her nose and blew on her coffee.
"No, wait, I do remember something. Something happened a while ago, before they moved in, but I certainly don't remember, it was just one of those conversations, you know the kind, they just sort of...flow over you. Like a wave."
"Something happened a while ago," Dave said. They sat at the dinner table. "That doesn't tell us much. Or how we're going to fix it."
"But maybe we can find something about it," Jennifer said. "Louise liked the cookies."
"Good. But I'm not worried about the cookies right now." Dave sighed and stirred his dinner.
"We can look through records about the house. It's an old house--there might be a lot of history."
Dave looked up at her. "History of what, though?"
Thirty weeks
Jennifer picked at her food. She spoke little, and let Dave talk about the bakery's new hire as they ate.
After dinner, as Dave sat on the couch, Jennifer pulled a few pieces of paper from her bag. "I've been looking through the microfiche all week," she said. She ran the pieces of paper back and forth in her hands. "I finally found something about the house."
"What? You did?" Dave said. He frowned. "It isn't good, is it?"
Jennifer held the papers out.
The first showed copied newspaper--blurred print, unfocused pictures, and rounded edges thanks to the copier. The top had the back end of a human-interest story about a farmer's child who would fall sleep next to a calf every night. The lower-left corner of the page had a short column about unfriendly dogs plaguing mailmen.
The lower-right corner began a story. Dave's breath caught in his throat. "Parents Mourn Drowned Child." The attached black-and-white picture showed their front door and yard, but had numerous chronological differences. Dave looked up at Jennifer. "How old is this newspaper?"
"A hundred years ago," Jennifer said. "You need to keep reading."
Dave returned to the paper. "Patrick and Esther Arnoud mourn their son Maarten, who drowned a week ago in the upstairs bath. Jesus Christ, Jennifer, is this real?"
"Keep reading."
"On Tuesday the twentieth of May, Maarten, only three years of age, bathed under the supervision of Esther. For a mere moment, Esther ran to fetch a towel, and a minute later returned to find...." Dave's eyes closed. He turned his head and exhaled. "Returned to find Maarten's head under the water. The child was not breathing, and despite Esther's attempts to revive him, and her frantic cries to neighbors, the child passed away." Dave put the paper down and rubbed his face. "I don't know if I want to keep reading. Jennifer, this has nothing to do with the plumbing. It's just a tragedy."
Jennifer sat next to him and picked up the pieces of paper. "Nana. Come over here."
Nana rose from her bed in a corner and climbed onto the couch, putting her head in Jennifer's reduced lap and rear end over David. Jennifer took a deep breath and dug her hand into the fur on Nana's back. "'A terrible thing,' Geoffrey Ableton, a neighbor of the Arnouds, said. 'My stomach sickened with the news,' Ableton continued. 'They're good folk, and Maarten was a fine child. And he loved the water.'
"A brief investigation determined Esther was not at fault for such a tragedy. The community has rallied around the grieving parents. However, the Arnouds have stated their intention to find a new home, one not shadowed by pallor."
"Just like we did." Dave said. His hands pressed on his eyes. He patted Nana's back. "Don't read any more. I don't want to hear any more."
Jennifer wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. She put the piece of paper down, and picked up the second. "A small service with friends and family took place at First Baptist on Sunday.
"'I will always mourn him,' Esther said, as Patrick stood next to her. 'I hold myself accountable, and I can only hope Maarten will forgive me.' She held a small music box Maarten would listen to while bathing."
Jennifer put the second sheet of paper down. She cleared her throat and pushed hair out of her eyes. Dave released a long, shaking breath. "You know you aren't at fault. It was just an accident." He pushed Nana off and stood. "Is it true?"
Jennifer pushed the final piece of paper toward Dave. "Yes."
"Bullshit." Dave snatched the paper up. His shoulders drooped as he read. "Damn. Cause of death: drowning. Ruled an accident. Bruise on head suggests child fell unconscious before death." Dave let Jennifer take the paper. "He hit his head and was dead before his mother came back. Poor kid." He looked up at her. "Are we really considering this? Are we really thinking there's...something here?"
"We find the tub full of water," Jennifer said. "We hear music from a music box."
"Is it from a music box, though?"
"What else would it be from, Dave? Are the pipes creating a pitch-perfect song...and only some of the time?"
Dave stared past her, at the wall.
"And then the faucets stop working. And Suraya sees a shadow in the tub. Maybe she was just seeing things, but if so, that's a big coincidence. This house is damaged, David."
"So, what do we do?"
"Do?"
Dave turned toward her. "Is there any way to...protect ourselves? We can't afford to move out. We only have one bath. Nothing's hurt us yet. Maybe it's just...." Dave sighed and shrugged. "Just sad."
Jennifer lifted her head and blinked at him. "Sad?"
"Jennifer...a child died inside it."
Cold hands wound themselves around her womb. She lowered her eyes and closed her mouth by millimeters, until her lips pressed together in a thin line. Her eyes pressed shut as hot tears grew behind them, and her throat rippled shut as her stomach lurched. The tips of her fingers brushed over her stomach. David pressed her head against his chest.
Thirty-four weeks
"He's still healthy," Jennifer whispered.
"Say something?" Dave asked, in the driver's seat.
"Just reassuring myself." Small white flakes fluttered down past the passenger window, obscuring Jennifer's vision. "We're almost there, Dave."
"The doctor had nothing but good news, as far as I can tell. I'm no expert in babies, but 'perfectly healthy' sounds peachy to me. I wish peaches were in season. I could make a mean cobbler right now. Can you imagine the smell of a baking cobbler right now?"
"That does sound good. Focus on the road first, hon."
They pulled into the garage and Dave helped Jennifer into the house. Louise waved at them from a window.
They stepped inside and froze. Nana barked upstairs. Water ran through the pipes.
"Uh oh." Dave took the stairs three at a time. Nana stood just outside the door to the bathroom, barking into the dark room. A puddle grew and stained the carpet, inching closer to the dog's front paws, and every time it got too close she took a step back. Dave stepped past her, shoes squelching, and switched on the light.
The sink, tub faucet, toilet and shower head all ran at full blast, spilling water over their sides and onto the tile floor. "Jennifer! Shut the water off!" Dave shouted down the stairs. He tore his shoes and socks off and stepped into the bathroom, twisting the dials on the sink to no avail. He splashed through the growing water to the tub and unplugged the drain. His foot slipped as he turned, and he fell to his butt, soaking his pants. "Damn it!" He tried to rise, and the freezing water splashed up at him, soaking him to the neck.
He crawled to the door and raised himself. Nana danced back and forth at the edge of the puddle, whimpering, and clung to him when Dave freed himself from the water. Jennifer ran up the stairs.
"I shut it off!" she said, and gaped at Dave's water-logged appearance.
"You did?! Are you sure?"
"I'm sure! I'm sure!" Jennifer said. "But-"
The music tinkled out of the bathroom. Dave shivered as water dripped off him. Nana started barking again, and Jennifer backed away, hands around her stomach.
The sound grew. It drowned out the water dripping onto the tile. Nana ceased her barking and sprinted past Dave and Jennifer, down the stairs. Dave pressed his hands over his ears, but Jennifer put one foot into the soaked carpet and peered into the bathroom. The light splintered off chrome faucets and wet porcelain. She put her hand up to block it, turning away from the sound, and as she did so the water stopped.
A single drip came out of the tub's faucet, sending brief, quick ripples across the surface of the water. The room hung still, and when Dave stepped around Jennifer to try the sink, nothing came out.
Thirty-eight weeks
"There should be an advent calendar kind of thing for expecting mothers," Dave said. He mixed a dough in the kitchen, and Jennifer stood next to him, looking at the normal calendar. Her eyes locked on a date circled in black marker. "Every day up to the due date has a piece of chocolate."
"A multivitamin, more likely," Jennifer said. "Are you going to be done with that before we have to go? Doctor Cillidine didn't want us to be late."
"I can stick it in the fridge before we go, it needs to cool anyway," Dave said. "Ready?"
"My bag's in the bedroom," Jennifer said, and tore her eyes away from the calendar, and the circled date. She went upstairs, gripping the banister hard to support herself, and passed the bathroom. Nana trailed her. Her heart pounded, but nothing reached out to drag her down into wet darkness. She picked up her bag and headed back down the hall. She neared the bathroom again, and her bladder began a familiar refrain. She sighed. "Two more weeks of this."
Leaning her bag against the wall, she went in and closed the door. Nana whimpered and whined as soon as she passed from view, and the dog's nails clacked against the other side of the door.
Her paw caught on the handle, and it swung open. Jennifer scowled at the dog, who stood just outside the bathroom, glaring back in. Jennifer tutted at her and shut the door again, locking it.
She pulled her jeans and underpants down and sat on the toilet, trying to relax. She put her head in her hands and smoothed her hair back, taking a big breath--baby weight, and swollen breasts, and sore back obstructing it. She kept sucking air in anyway, arching her back, and something popped inside her. The water under her splashed, and she froze, one hand on the counter next to her.
Her body crushed onto itself, and pain filled her abdomen. Her mouth hung open, frozen, and the pressure abated.
Mind blank, she sat on the toilet for a few more seconds, and then another crush unlocked her.
She braced her arm on the counter, but after a second of trying to heave herself off, a contraction dropped her back onto the toilet.
Her breath came fast and shallow. Her ankles tangled up in her jeans, and she placed her hands over her bump as another contraction shot through her.
She took the biggest breath of her life. "DAVIIIIIIIID!"
The word strangled off. Nana barked from a mile away. Another contraction slammed her teeth onto her tongue. A thin stream of blood flowed into her mouth, and she spat into the tub.
A dot of blood landed, a stain against the white, and Jennifer stared at it. She turned her gaze to the tub's faucet, where a dot of water hung.
Her vision grayed and swirled as another contraction pushed the air from her lungs. "David...."
"Jennifer! Is something wrong, are you okay?" He yelled from the other side of the door. Nana's barking continued. The knob rattled. "It's locked! Jennifer!"
A contraction squeezed a scream up her throat. She clamped her hands over her mouth, and when the contraction faded she yelled: "I don't want to have my baby on the toilet!"
"Jennifer, you need to unlock the door!" The knob rattled back and forth. "Can you reach it?"
A few drops of water dripped out of the faucet into the tub.
"Jennifer, you have to unlock the door! Is it really happening now? How far apart are the contractions?"
She took great gulps of air as the light spun around her, reflecting off chrome and porcelain. Her hand reached around the edge of the sink toward the door, but her fingertips ended a foot from the knob. She grunted and strained, leaning as far as she could, but another contraction snapped her back. "It's coming!" Jennifer shouted, gritting her teeth. "It's coming right now!"
"Okay! Okay! Hold on!" The knob rattled for another second, turning to its limit and straining the wood. "Nana, get out of the way! Jen, I'm calling 911, you just sit tight, okay?"
From her spot on the toilet, arms curled around her bump, she snarled at the door. She tried to take a deep breath, but her body rocked forward and she shrieked at the floor between her feet. Her abdomen prickled, and heat rose to the top of her head. She braced herself against the counter again, but gave up trying to rise after a single push. "Deep breath deep breath deep breath deep breath...." She whimpered each time her abdomen squeezed. "David!"
The water dripping into the tub washed the dot of blood down the drain.
"I'm here, I'm here! The ambulance is on the way! Jennifer, I'm going to bust the latch, okay, try to shield yourself."
Jennifer swallowed a lump in her throat and leaned forward. The tips of her fingers caught on the lock. She released a painful grunt, and the lock turned. She snatched the knob and pulled the door open.
David stood on his toes, elbow poised to slam down on the knob, and when the door cracked open he fell to his heels before rushing in. He slid to a knee and grabbed her hand, and she crushed it as another contraction slammed into her. "They're coming faster," Jennifer said, face red and breath whistling past her lips. "We don't have time for the ambulance. It's coming now!"
"Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay," Dave said. "Uh...We can-"
Jennifer pitched forward, screaming, and Nana went into a frenzy in the hall, barking as Jennifer's breath failed her. She jabbed her finger at the tub.
"What? No! Jennifer, we can't possibly-"
The strongest contraction yet squeezed tears from her eyes, and popped her mouth open, and she emitted a soundless cry. Dave caught her as she tumbled off the toilet seat. "Okay! The tub!"
He put his arms around her shoulders and the back of her knees, and lifted into a crouch, back and knees and arms straining. He turned and fell to his knees and lowered her down until her back touched the cold porcelain.
She grabbed the front of his shirt. "Towels." She took a few shallow breaths. "Towels!"
"Towels!" Dave shot up and ran past Nana downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed the entire pile of towels and rags off the counter. He flew back into the bathroom, and handed the biggest and fluffiest to Jennifer, who shoved them behind her back and under her butt. Dave unfolded the rest and laid them between her spread legs, and then reached into the tub and untangled her feet from her jeans.
Pausing for a moment, Dave pulled his phone out again, tapped no more than twenty times, and threw his phone onto the carpet outside the room. "I'm here honey, I'm here, it's going to be okay, it'll be fine. Everything's going to be fine."
Jennifer's eyes squeezed tears onto her cheeks, and her teeth ground together. Pressure filled her body until she thought she would split open.
She opened her mouth, and would later learn she had screamed loud enough for Louise, who was running to their back door after getting Dave's terse message, to hear her from outside. Pain like a pile driver shot through her, and an immense mass and weight disappeared out of her, and Dave cried out, and a few seconds later a third person cried out.
"Welcome home, Martin," Jennifer said, two days later. Dave intercepted Nana, who couldn't wait to get at all the new smells. Jennifer wandered through the kitchen and eased the baby carrier onto the dining room table. Martin slept, wrinkled pink face shining out from a bundle of blankets.
"I don't know about you," Dave said, "but I'm pretty tired."
"You think you're tired."
"I can be tired," he said, and swallowed her in a hug. She sank into his arms, not taking her eyes off the carrier. "You know what? I just realized my dough has been in the fridge for two days." He wrinkled his nose. "I need to go to the bathroom."
"Me too," Jennifer said, and she separated from him, heading for the stairs.
"I can use the upstairs if you want."
She shook her head. "I want to check something."
She stood just outside the bathroom, hand on her deflated abdomen. She flipped the light on. They had left the tub full of afterbirth, and the towels in the bottom stained. She stepped up to the tub.
Light gleamed off the clean surface. The towels sat clean but tangled at the bottom. Jennifer bent her head toward the drain, bracing herself on the edge of the tub against a wave of dizziness. She brought her ear to the drain and listened, and heard nothing.
"Is that why the price is so low?" Dave asked.
"They came down a little bit." The Realtor led them back into the kitchen. "They're an old couple, and they haven't lived here for nearly a decade." She stood, hands on her hips and a plastic smile on her face. "That's everything! Any questions?"
Jennifer turned to her husband. "I like it."
"So do I," Dave said. "Good location, close to the bakery, nice yard for Nana, plenty of space."
"We'll have to think about it," Jennifer said. "But...I have a good feeling about this place."
Two Weeks
Their friends departed into the twilight, waving backward, and Dave threw out the empty pizza boxes and beer cans. Boxes of pans, utensils, hot pads, glasses, dishes, and Dave's prized aprons crowded the already-small kitchen, and the master bedroom had it worse, full of unbuilt furniture and boxed clothes. Fresh April breezes lingered near the windows of the hot house.
Nana followed Dave back and forth across the kitchen, and for her attention a few crusts fell onto the tile, where she snarfed them. Dave ran his hand through the dog's shaggy golden fur, tracking through a puddle. "Control your licker, your disgusting beast!" he said, fetching a paper towel and wiping the drool. Nana ignored him, and when Jennifer appeared, Nana greeted her with the same happy, vapid grin.
"Is it going to work?" Dave asked.
"Don't know, hun. I really hope it does." Jennifer smoothed her hands over her stomach. "I know I need to take it easy, but I don't want to sit still. I want to get this place in shape."
"Don't worry," Dave said, as he pulled out plates. "This place will feel like a home in no time."
"I don't want this to feel like home." Jennifer crossed her arms. "Home is hurt and pain and...emptiness."
Dave nodded. "Then may we never feel at home."
Five Weeks
"Do you hear that?" Jennifer asked in the kitchen doorway. Nana wedged between her feet.
Dave looked up from his newest cookbook. "Whuzzah?"
"That music?"
"I...hear the rain," Dave said, peaking an eyebrow. He noted something in the book.
"You really can't hear that?"
"No, I can't hear anything else.
"You don't hear that music?"
"No, Jennifer. Jennifer, no. I can hear the rain-" Dave glanced to the side. Over a shelf of cookbooks, gray light filtered through a rain-smeared window. "And I hear you talking, and Nana's nails clicking, and her tail hitting your legs, and the clock in the dining room, and the fan running, but I don't hear any music."
"It sounds like one of those old music boxes, almost. But really far away, or buried under something." Jennifer stood still, gazing into a high corner of the room.
"Sorry hon, I don't hear anything like that." Dave sighed. "Want anything specific for dinner?"
"As long as you don't make that biscuit recipe again."
"If I could get it right, I'd stop. They're so soggy, even after baking. They taste like mush. I've been putting less and less water in, but there's always too much."
"No preference for dinner, then," Jennifer said. She exited, and Nana trailed after her.
Dave turned toward the oven and slid through a puddle. "Where...Ugh, Nana." Dave grabbed a towel from the pile on the counter and started mopping.
Six Weeks
Dave pulled one end of the torn-up toy, and Nana's jaws clamped on the other. The dog dug her paws into the living room carpet as play growls slipped past her jaws. A sweet chocolate scent filled the lower level of the house, and a timer ticked over the oven.
Jennifer poked her head in from the hallway. "I'm taking a shower."
"Okay," Dave said. Nana yanked the toy out of his hand. "Be careful."
"I promise," Jennifer said, walking into the hallway and up the stairs.
"I'll get something of Nana for Instagram. Suraya and Luke have been crushing us. How can a Golden Retriever compete with a mixed-race baby?" Dave said as she closed the bathroom door. "C'mon, Nana, look cuter."
Jennifer began to undress. Staring herself down in the mirror, she ran her hands over her middle.
A tiny bulge. A bit of extra, something no one would look twice at, especially since her husband owns a bakery. A pudge. A belly.
Maybe cookies. Maybe something else.
She took a big breath, and exhaled through her nose until her lungs hurt. She turned to the tub. Whipping back the curtain, she bent to turn the water on, and halted.
She wrapped a towel around herself and cracked the door open. "Dave? Did you use the shower today?"
A moment later Dave stood next to Jennifer. Water filled the tub. Nana sat in the hall. "That's weird. Maybe...." He reached under the water. Running his hand along the porcelain bottom, he found the plug and yanked. The water began to swirl away. "It's cold. Did you plug it?"
"No, why would I plug it?"
"I dunno, maybe you were washing Nana or something." The dog stepped closer but didn't enter the bathroom. "A leak in the faucet maybe. Hopefully it isn't something expensive. We should keep an eye on it. Have a good shower," he said.
Jennifer sat on the closed toilet as the tub drained. The last of the water gurgled away, and she removed the towel. As she hung it up, shivering in the hard, cold, painful room, music came to her, sudden and distant.
Raindrops hitting a metal roof. Tiny splashes of water in a lake. The far upper keys of a piano. She shivered, and turned the shower on, and hot. Splashing drowned out the music.
Eight Weeks
David placed his thumb over the hose's opening and aimed it toward the garden, spraying back and forth. "Mint's coming in nice!" he called over his shoulder, where Jennifer lounged in the hot sun, one arm over her abdomen and sunglasses over her eyes. "And the--Nana, get out of there!" He directed the hose's full force at the dog, who had no idea she had done anything wrong. She ran up to Dave, muddy up to her stomach. "Damn." He sprayed the dog again, who fled. "No, Nana, come back! It's either this or the tub! Mangy mutt! Get back here and let me clean you!"
"I remember when you said that to me the first time," Jennifer said, eyes on her book.
Dave grabbed Nana's collar. "Sit." Nana fell to her butt, tail swishing over the grass. "Lie down." She lowered herself, gazing up at him. "Stay."
He ran inside and grabbed a rag from the "Nana pile" on the counter, and started wiping her off. "Stop enjoying this so much! I swear, goldens make anything look fun."
"A smarter dog would realize she did something wrong," Jennifer said, and then she bent over the side of the lounge chair and vomited.
The beige sludge covered the grass. Jennifer sucked in a huge breath and retched again. Dave's hands grabbed her shoulders and steadied her until the spell had passed. "Look's like Nana isn't the only one getting a bath today," he said.
At the word, Nana sprang up and pelted to a corner of the yard. Jennifer tried to stand, but wobbled after a step. Dave helped her back down. Her hands grasped her stomach. Vomit stained the front of her shirt and dripped off her chin.
"David?"
Dave looked over his shoulder, at the fence. A head of feathery white hair and a pair of old eyes looked in, concerned. "Is everything all right over there?"
"Louise, oh, uh, everything's not all right, no." Dave turned to Jennifer. "I'm making an executive decision." Jennifer nodded, groaning. "Jen gets some bad afternoon sickness."
Louise exited her yard and ran to the entrance to theirs. Jennifer retched, disgorging saliva. David held her shoulders still. "Let's get you up, Jennifer."
"David, the baby-"
"It's just afternoon sickness, hon, don't worry. It's a good sign, remember? Let's get you out of those clothes. Louise, if you could give me a hand," Dave said.
"Come on, Mom," Louise said. "I know you probably feel disgusting now, but let me tell you, it's nothing compared to when I gave birth to Brian. Lordy Lord, that boy was trouble before he even came out." Louise led Jennifer inside, holding her arms and keeping her on her feet.
Dave cringed away from the bold smell of Jennifer's half-digested lunch as she leaned on him. Louise continued her stories about a life long-lived as the three of them made their way up the stairs. Dave led the way into the bathroom, switching on the light. He wrenched open the curtain and turned on the faucet, and water splashed into water.
He froze and glanced at the tub. Already full, the water flowing into it threatened to spill over the side. Shutting it off, he plunged his hand into freezing water and yanked the drain open, and frowned as it sucked water down. "Why...." He shook his head and darted back to Jennifer, helping to remove her clothes.
"I bet you normally love this!" Louise said, cackling.
"Usually, yeah," he said. Amid weak gags and groans, Jennifer got the rest of her clothes off as Dave grabbed a washcloth to soak it in hot water from the sink.
Nothing came out. He leaned forward, and tapped the faucet. He twisted the knob back and forth, then turned it off. The cold water drained out of the tub as Louise talked.
He grabbed the dial for the tub.
Frozen air swept up at him, and goosebumps shot through his body. A distant song played.
Small tinks, or pings. A tiny, tinny bit of music coming from another room. Dave lowered his head toward the drain.
The music increased. He peered into the drain, mouth hanging open. A small section of peaceful, calm music repeated, echoing up through the pipes.
"David?"
He looked up at Louise and the bare Jennifer. He plugged the drain and turned the water to hot. It jetted out of the faucet into the tub, and banished the goosebumps from his arms.
"We're all right now, Louise, thanks," Dave said, phone against his head and feet on the coffee table as he sat on the couch. Jennifer's feet filled his lap, and Nana slept on the floor in arm's reach. An empty glass of lemon water sat on the table near Jennifer. "Jennifer feels better. Oh, I'm sure there's somebody out there who thinks afternoon sickness determines the gender. Oh, uh, about that, we haven't actually made an announcement yet, so...I appreciate it. Yeah. I'll bake something nice for you this weekend. Oh sure, I've got a couple of primo recipes for dark chocolate. Thanks again. Bye."
"You ever just been sitting and doing nothing," Jennifer said. One arm lay over her eyes and the other on her abdomen. "And then bam, vomit?" She paused for a few seconds. "It sure is something."
"I bet," Dave said. "It happened pretty suddenly."
"I admit I wasn't feeling particularly amazing before it happened, but it still surprised me," Jennifer said.
"Mmm. Okay." David picked up an expense report for the bakery, then put it down again. "That thing happened again."
"What thing."
"The tub was full of water. And the sink wouldn't work."
"I barely noticed." Jennifer removed her arm from her eyes. "I used the sink after dinner."
"And I could have sworn I heard music coming out of the tub drain."
Jennifer stared at the ceiling. "You know, I think I heard that when I found the tub full."
Dave sighed. "I'll call a plumber tomorrow, see if he can figure out what's going on."
"You think a plumber will know where the music is coming from?"
"I think a plumber will realize it's just pipes clanging and banging around inside the walls, and will know how to fix it, so the faucets work when they're supposed to, and only when they're supposed to."
"I don't think it was pipes."
"What was it then?" Dave asked, flipping through receipts. When Jennifer didn't answer, he patted her leg. "Doesn't really matter what it is, I guess, as long as you're not puking all over it."
Nine Weeks
The plumber rubbed his chin and reached out a slow hand. He grabbed the dial between thumb and forefinger.
He turned the dial and water trickled out. He turned it farther and the flow increased. He crouched, hands on his knees, unblinking, as the water washed into the sink, and then he raised a hand to the dial and shut it off.
He straightened up. Jennifer leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over her stomach. Nana sat behind her in the hallway, eyes narrowed at the stranger in her house. "Sorry ma'am. It certainly isn't happening now, and I can't think of any reason why it would have happened at all. Can't say anything else besides...." The plumber lifted his hands and shrugged. "You forgot to drain it."
"And the music?" Jennifer asked.
The plumber shook his head. "I don't know what you were hearing, but it wasn't coming from the pipes."
Jennifer let her head loll forward and rubbed the back of her neck. "There's really nothing you can do?"
"A doctor doesn't prescribe medicine if there are no symptoms, ma'am." Jennifer let him exit the bathroom. "If it starts happening more often, or doesn't stop, I'll come right back."
They went downstairs to the kitchen, and the plumber handed her an invoice. "Just the diagnostic fee. Happy Monday."
"Thanks," Jennifer said. They shook hands, the plumber ruffled the fur on the top of Nana's head, and he departed.
Jennifer put the invoice on the counter and picked up a container of dark chocolate brownies, paused to bend toward them and inhale, and exited the house. She went to the end of the yard, dodging water from the sprinkler next door, and slipped through the gate, trapping Nana, then went next door.
She rapped on Louise's back door, and a few seconds later Louise let her in.
"Good to see you, Jennifer! Oh, don't they look lovely! Let me put these on a plate and you can have your bin right back. How do you feel? Have you been all right since last week? Do you need to sit? Here, here, sit, sit."
"I've been all right," Jennifer said, sitting at the kitchen table. "It...should fade soon." But if it stays around for a few months, I'd be fine with that.
"Sickness doesn't last past the first trimester," Louise said, and busied herself moving the brownies onto a dish. "Let's see...second month. I bet you've got a little bump hiding!" Jennifer opened her mouth to answer but Louise barreled ahead. "Was that a plumber you just had over? These old houses, I swear, every month a floorboard comes loose, or a fuse breaks, or a section of the roof peels right off."
"We've been having some trouble with the bathroom upstairs," Jennifer said. "The faucet didn't work, and-"
"Goodness, aren't these moist! They practically melt in your mouth. Would you like one?"
Jennifer laughed and held up her hand. "Don't worry, Louise, I've eaten plenty of Dave's treats. It's hard work keeping healthy with a baker husband." She patted her stomach. "I'm trying to limit myself."
"Well you needn't worry about putting on a few pounds!" Louise said. Heat swarmed up Jennifer's neck into her face, and she tried to brace herself. "It's good cushioning for the baby!"
The room spun. Her throat slammed shut. She tried to stand but ended up slumping forward onto the table, eyes straining open and breath whistling in and out.
"Oh no, no, no...." Louise came around the table and placed her hands on Jennifer's shoulders. "Dear, no, oh, I'm so sorry."
Tears dripped onto the kitchen table, and Jennifer put her hands to her face to block them. "Let them out, let them out," Louise said in a murmur. "I'm so sorry dear, I didn't know...."
Ten minutes later Jennifer gazed at the half-eaten brownie in front of her. "That's how Dave got me to fall in love with him," she said. Louise brushed her hair. "He loved baking even in high school, and when we met in college he would bring me all these treats because he was 'practicing.' I had to start giving them to other people just so I didn't gain too much weight. It's how he loves." She put a few fingers to her lip. A dot of blood. She'd bitten her tongue.
"I can tell he loves you," Louise said, teasing her bangs. "There. You look lovely."
"Thanks for understanding, Louise."
"Of course, dear." Louise pulled Jennifer's head close. "If you need anything, you let me know. We moms should stick together. Now, why don't you go home and get some rest."
"You were telling me about the bathroom," Louise said, holding Jennifer's arm as they exited the house. Nana's nose peeked over the fence, and she lowered herself to all four paws when Jennifer appeared. "Was it only the faucet?"
Jennifer shook her head. "No, the tub has filled up with water a few times."
Louise chuckled as they entered Jennifer's yard. "Hopefully you didn't hear any music!"
Jennifer froze. The sprinkler in the next yard spat water into the air, and some of it flew into her eyes. "Music?"
Louise paused in front of the steps to Jennifer's back door. "The old owners, the Bensons, kept telling us they could hear music when the tub was empty. They said, they said...oh what did they say?"
Jennifer's stomach turned over. She swallowed, and took a deep breath.
"It was like from a music box," Louise said at last. "I know you kids are young, but you've probably heard of them, at least."
Jennifer rushed inside, Nana at her heels. When she went upstairs she halted at the bathroom door. She strained her ears into the dark room, and a drop of water plinked into the sink.
"You're kidding," Dave said that night.
Jennifer shook her head. She stirred a stew in the slow cooker. "Said it was like from an old music box. You know, you lift the lid and it plays with gears and things."
"Gears and things," Dave repeated as he stared at the wall. His bag hung in his hand, swaying every time Nana's tail smacked it. He set it down by his shoes. "What did the plumber say?"
"He didn't find anything. He couldn't give an explanation, and it's not like he was just going to start tearing pipes out of the walls."
"No. I guess not. That's...strange."
Something cold dripped onto the base of Jennifer's neck. She reached up to brush it away but found nothing. "I was going to say eerie," she said, staring at her hand.
"There can't be anything eerie about it. Like It's probably just pipes rattling or something. Water pressure." Dave hugged her. "It just gets our hackles up." He rested his chin on her shoulder. "How's my girl?"
Jennifer hesitated, staring into the slow cooker. "Louise knows about..." her hand brushed her abdomen. "She knows."
Dave nodded as he rubbed her back. "Did the plumber say anything else?"
"If things start happening again, or happening at all, he'll come back." Jennifer rapped the ladle to dislodge chunks of stew. "Dinner's ready. Wash up."
Dave kissed her cheek. "At least he didn't charge too much. I'll be back in a second," Dave said, exiting the dining room.
He poked his head back in. "Actually, I got some good news today. Luke and Suraya are going to be in the country in a few months. Can we have them over for dinner?" He said, giving Jennifer his best puppy-dog eyes.
Twenty Weeks
"So I point at Suraya," Luke said, jabbing his long, skinny index finger at her, "and I say 'why don't you ask my wife?'"
They all burst into laughter. Luke and Suraya's son, Tony, with short black hair and caramel-colored skin, laughed along. Nana went from person to person under the dinner table, snuffling around their feet, but spent most of her time under Tony, eyes keen for morsels.
"It certainly took sweet time getting the clinic set up," Suraya said. "And even longer until people trusted us enough to come to us for aid, but it's busy now. The lead doctor being married to an Indian nurse certainly helps."
"It must!" Jennifer said. Her blouse flowed over her bump, and the third trimester clothes waited in the closet. "Only able to get away for a few weeks out of the entire year!"
"And even then, conferences and meetings most of the time. When do you two sleep?" Dave asked.
"When we can, I suppose." Luke leaned back and rubbed his belly. After a moment, he leaned forward again. "Enough about us, we've been doing all the talking! How's the bakery doing?"
"Jen, you look so healthy!" Suraya said, as Dave began telling Luke about ovens, health inspectors, and croissants. "You are aglow, I swear. Let's see...five months?"
"The sickness is gone, thank goodness. The grass is still a little discolored from the first time it hit, but at least the leaves will start to cover it."
They told stories and laughed at each other's jokes. Luke rose to use the restroom, and a few seconds later Tony spilled juice down his front.
"Oh, no!" Suraya grabbed her napkin and started dabbing. "Sorry Jen," she said, and then her arm knocked the rest of Tony's dish into the child's lap. Fragrant Indian spices filled the air, and Suraya said something in harsh Hindi. "Sorry, honey, mom didn't mean to say that," she said as she picked peas out and put them back in the plate. "Look at you getting all messy." Tony only giggled, grabbing at his mother's hands. "I'll just take him upstairs and get him cleaned up." Suraya left, Nana trailing her, and a moment later the stairs creaked.
A few seconds later a yelp came from the downstairs bathroom. The door flung open and Luke ran out. "Dave...the sink!"
Dave shot up and ran into the bathroom. The faucet sprayed water, filling the sink past its overflow. The water ran over the sides onto the counter and splashed onto the floor. "It won't shut off!" Luke said.
The faucet gushed like an open wound. Dave tried the dials. "I'm sorry Dave, I don't know what happened!" Luke said. "Shutoff valve?"
The seat for the toilet lifted up and banged against the tank, and water sprayed out of the bowl like a geyser. "Jesus!" Dave went to it, arm shielding his eyes, and tried to push the seat back down, put the water's pressure lifted it right back off.
"What's happening?" Jennifer said, from the hall, as water flowed out of the room and into the carpet by her feet, and she stepped back. "I'm going to shut the water off!"
She turned and ran toward the basement stairs, but got no more than a few steps when Nana barked and Suraya shrieked from upstairs. Jennifer slid to a halt and ran up the stairs. Suraya waited in the upper hall, carrying a still-messy Tony. She cringed away from the bathroom.
Nana stood between Suraya and the bathroom, paws spread on the ground and teeth barred into the empty porcelain room. Her tail hung between her legs and her head sank low to the ground. "Suraya?"
"The tub was full of water," the woman said. "I didn't think anything of it, but when I tried to turn on the faucet, nothing came out."
Jennifer grabbed Nana and dragged her back, and the dog calmed somewhat, ceasing her growls but huddling next to Suraya. Jennifer glanced into the bathroom. The tub, curtain drawn back, washed back and forth, spilling drops of water over the side. "That, uh, that happens sometimes. We're still trying to figure it out."
"Nana was sitting in the hallway," Suraya said. "And she started growling and snarling, like she was going to attack."
Jennifer almost laughed. "Nana would never do something like that."
Suraya stared at the tub. The water kept splashing. "I...while I was trying to get the sink to go...there was someone in the tub."
Jennifer whipped her head around. "What?"
"A person. A child, I think. It surprised me, and I stumbled back." Suraya gestured at the counter beside the sink. Lotion bottles, toothpaste, brushes, and deodorant sat in disarray. "I pulled open the curtain, but there was no one there." She pointed at Nana. "Nana barked, and that's what made me shriek." Suraya took a breath. "I-I don't know what really happened, it was all just so fast."
"Suraya," Jennifer said. She reached in from the hall and shut off the light in the bathroom. "Did you hear anything?"
"Hear?" Suraya pursed her lips and shook her head. "I head that commotion downstairs. Why?"
"We've had some trouble with the pipes," Jennifer said, and the familiar ripple of gorge rising up her throat began. She swallowed and took a deep breath. "They make...clanging sounds sometimes."
"No, I didn't heard anything."
"Okay, okay." Jennifer brushed hair out of her face. "We've had a little bit of an issue with the downstairs bathroom and had to shut off the water, so you won't be able to clean Tony."
Suraya tsked. "What did Luke do now? Don't worry about it, we're plenty used to not having clean water. I've got my water bottle, I can just wet some rags and get all this off him." She shook her head and went down the stairs toward Dave's and Luke's voices.
Jennifer peered into the bathroom for a few more seconds, Nana at her side. Water continued splashing back and forth in the dark room, tinkling onto the tile floor, and she left before it could shape itself into music.
Dave grunted as he mopped the downstairs bathroom floor. Jennifer sat in the hall, cross-legged, tracking him back and forth as Nana panted moist air into her face. "Do we need to call the plumber again?"
He stood up straight and leaned the mop against the wall. "The sink, and the toilet, and the tub all started spraying water. I shut the water off and it stopped. After Suraya and Luke left, I turned it back on and it was fine. What are the odds he's just going to come and not find anything wrong again?"
"Something's wrong," Jennifer said. "Something weird is going on."
"Was Suraya sure she saw something in the tub?"
"It was a shadow." Jennifer put her arm around Nana. "Like someone was in the tub. When she pulled the curtain back there was nobody."
"Come on," Dave said, exiting the bathroom and past her into the hallway. She followed him up the stairs, one hand locked around the banister.
He stopped in front of the upstairs bathroom. The light from the hall glanced off the tile floor and tub, and reflected back at him from the mirror. Jennifer stood next to him, and Nana leaned against her leg, tail drooping between her hind legs.
"There's nothing in here," Dave said, and he turned on the light. "It was just-"
He froze. Jennifer gasped. Nana growled.
Water trickled out of the shower head at a constant tattoo, tinkling down into the bare tub. A steady pattern, chiming on the surface. Jennifer's breath stopped in her throat. Dave's hand, halfway to the light switch inside the bathroom, shook in midair.
The baby kicked, and Jennifer's hand shot to her stomach. Her breath resumed, and she grabbed Dave's other hand. His fingers inched around the bathroom door frame until they reached the switch, and then fluorescent light filled the room. The trickling water stopped.
Dave stepped inside and tore the curtain back. Water drained out the bottom of the otherwise-empty tub.
Twenty-one Weeks
Jennifer retrieved cookies from the refrigerator, inhaled the sweet smell, and walked next door again.
Louise opened the door a few seconds after Jennifer knocked. "Hi, Louise." Jennifer looked down at the plate in her hands. "Dave wanted to try this new recipe out...he figured you wouldn't mind being a guinea pig, since I'm trying not to have too many sweets."
Ten seconds later she sat at the kitchen table as Louise talked. About the weather, about the traffic, about all the planes overhead, about the cold snap the night before, about Dave's bakery, about the delicious cookies. Jennifer listened and gave nominal responses for a few minutes.
"Louise," she said at last, halting the one-sided conversation. "The people who sold us our house...did they ever say anything else about the bathroom?"
"The Bensons? Oh, they were always going on about it. You should have heard them ramble. They even replaced some of the pipes to try and get it to stop," Louise said. She placed a cup of decaf coffee in front of Jennifer and sat across from her. "But the noises just kept happening." She sipped her own coffee. "And they kept talking about it."
"Did they ever...." Jennifer ran her tongue along the inside of her teeth. "Did they ever mention anything else happening?" She looked at her stomach, then up. "Did they ever talk about the faucets leaking? Or did the faucets ever stop working?"
Louise opened her mouth, then turned her head. Her eyes wandered up to the ceiling. "I remember them talking about something else...."
Jennifer held herself still. The kitchen faucet dripped and her eyes snapped to it.
"...Oh, but I don't remember what it was. They were always going on about it, about one thing or another."
Jennifer exhaled out her nose and blew on her coffee.
"No, wait, I do remember something. Something happened a while ago, before they moved in, but I certainly don't remember, it was just one of those conversations, you know the kind, they just sort of...flow over you. Like a wave."
"Something happened a while ago," Dave said. They sat at the dinner table. "That doesn't tell us much. Or how we're going to fix it."
"But maybe we can find something about it," Jennifer said. "Louise liked the cookies."
"Good. But I'm not worried about the cookies right now." Dave sighed and stirred his dinner.
"We can look through records about the house. It's an old house--there might be a lot of history."
Dave looked up at her. "History of what, though?"
Thirty weeks
Jennifer picked at her food. She spoke little, and let Dave talk about the bakery's new hire as they ate.
After dinner, as Dave sat on the couch, Jennifer pulled a few pieces of paper from her bag. "I've been looking through the microfiche all week," she said. She ran the pieces of paper back and forth in her hands. "I finally found something about the house."
"What? You did?" Dave said. He frowned. "It isn't good, is it?"
Jennifer held the papers out.
The first showed copied newspaper--blurred print, unfocused pictures, and rounded edges thanks to the copier. The top had the back end of a human-interest story about a farmer's child who would fall sleep next to a calf every night. The lower-left corner of the page had a short column about unfriendly dogs plaguing mailmen.
The lower-right corner began a story. Dave's breath caught in his throat. "Parents Mourn Drowned Child." The attached black-and-white picture showed their front door and yard, but had numerous chronological differences. Dave looked up at Jennifer. "How old is this newspaper?"
"A hundred years ago," Jennifer said. "You need to keep reading."
Dave returned to the paper. "Patrick and Esther Arnoud mourn their son Maarten, who drowned a week ago in the upstairs bath. Jesus Christ, Jennifer, is this real?"
"Keep reading."
"On Tuesday the twentieth of May, Maarten, only three years of age, bathed under the supervision of Esther. For a mere moment, Esther ran to fetch a towel, and a minute later returned to find...." Dave's eyes closed. He turned his head and exhaled. "Returned to find Maarten's head under the water. The child was not breathing, and despite Esther's attempts to revive him, and her frantic cries to neighbors, the child passed away." Dave put the paper down and rubbed his face. "I don't know if I want to keep reading. Jennifer, this has nothing to do with the plumbing. It's just a tragedy."
Jennifer sat next to him and picked up the pieces of paper. "Nana. Come over here."
Nana rose from her bed in a corner and climbed onto the couch, putting her head in Jennifer's reduced lap and rear end over David. Jennifer took a deep breath and dug her hand into the fur on Nana's back. "'A terrible thing,' Geoffrey Ableton, a neighbor of the Arnouds, said. 'My stomach sickened with the news,' Ableton continued. 'They're good folk, and Maarten was a fine child. And he loved the water.'
"A brief investigation determined Esther was not at fault for such a tragedy. The community has rallied around the grieving parents. However, the Arnouds have stated their intention to find a new home, one not shadowed by pallor."
"Just like we did." Dave said. His hands pressed on his eyes. He patted Nana's back. "Don't read any more. I don't want to hear any more."
Jennifer wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. She put the piece of paper down, and picked up the second. "A small service with friends and family took place at First Baptist on Sunday.
"'I will always mourn him,' Esther said, as Patrick stood next to her. 'I hold myself accountable, and I can only hope Maarten will forgive me.' She held a small music box Maarten would listen to while bathing."
Jennifer put the second sheet of paper down. She cleared her throat and pushed hair out of her eyes. Dave released a long, shaking breath. "You know you aren't at fault. It was just an accident." He pushed Nana off and stood. "Is it true?"
Jennifer pushed the final piece of paper toward Dave. "Yes."
"Bullshit." Dave snatched the paper up. His shoulders drooped as he read. "Damn. Cause of death: drowning. Ruled an accident. Bruise on head suggests child fell unconscious before death." Dave let Jennifer take the paper. "He hit his head and was dead before his mother came back. Poor kid." He looked up at her. "Are we really considering this? Are we really thinking there's...something here?"
"We find the tub full of water," Jennifer said. "We hear music from a music box."
"Is it from a music box, though?"
"What else would it be from, Dave? Are the pipes creating a pitch-perfect song...and only some of the time?"
Dave stared past her, at the wall.
"And then the faucets stop working. And Suraya sees a shadow in the tub. Maybe she was just seeing things, but if so, that's a big coincidence. This house is damaged, David."
"So, what do we do?"
"Do?"
Dave turned toward her. "Is there any way to...protect ourselves? We can't afford to move out. We only have one bath. Nothing's hurt us yet. Maybe it's just...." Dave sighed and shrugged. "Just sad."
Jennifer lifted her head and blinked at him. "Sad?"
"Jennifer...a child died inside it."
Cold hands wound themselves around her womb. She lowered her eyes and closed her mouth by millimeters, until her lips pressed together in a thin line. Her eyes pressed shut as hot tears grew behind them, and her throat rippled shut as her stomach lurched. The tips of her fingers brushed over her stomach. David pressed her head against his chest.
Thirty-four weeks
"He's still healthy," Jennifer whispered.
"Say something?" Dave asked, in the driver's seat.
"Just reassuring myself." Small white flakes fluttered down past the passenger window, obscuring Jennifer's vision. "We're almost there, Dave."
"The doctor had nothing but good news, as far as I can tell. I'm no expert in babies, but 'perfectly healthy' sounds peachy to me. I wish peaches were in season. I could make a mean cobbler right now. Can you imagine the smell of a baking cobbler right now?"
"That does sound good. Focus on the road first, hon."
They pulled into the garage and Dave helped Jennifer into the house. Louise waved at them from a window.
They stepped inside and froze. Nana barked upstairs. Water ran through the pipes.
"Uh oh." Dave took the stairs three at a time. Nana stood just outside the door to the bathroom, barking into the dark room. A puddle grew and stained the carpet, inching closer to the dog's front paws, and every time it got too close she took a step back. Dave stepped past her, shoes squelching, and switched on the light.
The sink, tub faucet, toilet and shower head all ran at full blast, spilling water over their sides and onto the tile floor. "Jennifer! Shut the water off!" Dave shouted down the stairs. He tore his shoes and socks off and stepped into the bathroom, twisting the dials on the sink to no avail. He splashed through the growing water to the tub and unplugged the drain. His foot slipped as he turned, and he fell to his butt, soaking his pants. "Damn it!" He tried to rise, and the freezing water splashed up at him, soaking him to the neck.
He crawled to the door and raised himself. Nana danced back and forth at the edge of the puddle, whimpering, and clung to him when Dave freed himself from the water. Jennifer ran up the stairs.
"I shut it off!" she said, and gaped at Dave's water-logged appearance.
"You did?! Are you sure?"
"I'm sure! I'm sure!" Jennifer said. "But-"
The music tinkled out of the bathroom. Dave shivered as water dripped off him. Nana started barking again, and Jennifer backed away, hands around her stomach.
The sound grew. It drowned out the water dripping onto the tile. Nana ceased her barking and sprinted past Dave and Jennifer, down the stairs. Dave pressed his hands over his ears, but Jennifer put one foot into the soaked carpet and peered into the bathroom. The light splintered off chrome faucets and wet porcelain. She put her hand up to block it, turning away from the sound, and as she did so the water stopped.
A single drip came out of the tub's faucet, sending brief, quick ripples across the surface of the water. The room hung still, and when Dave stepped around Jennifer to try the sink, nothing came out.
Thirty-eight weeks
"There should be an advent calendar kind of thing for expecting mothers," Dave said. He mixed a dough in the kitchen, and Jennifer stood next to him, looking at the normal calendar. Her eyes locked on a date circled in black marker. "Every day up to the due date has a piece of chocolate."
"A multivitamin, more likely," Jennifer said. "Are you going to be done with that before we have to go? Doctor Cillidine didn't want us to be late."
"I can stick it in the fridge before we go, it needs to cool anyway," Dave said. "Ready?"
"My bag's in the bedroom," Jennifer said, and tore her eyes away from the calendar, and the circled date. She went upstairs, gripping the banister hard to support herself, and passed the bathroom. Nana trailed her. Her heart pounded, but nothing reached out to drag her down into wet darkness. She picked up her bag and headed back down the hall. She neared the bathroom again, and her bladder began a familiar refrain. She sighed. "Two more weeks of this."
Leaning her bag against the wall, she went in and closed the door. Nana whimpered and whined as soon as she passed from view, and the dog's nails clacked against the other side of the door.
Her paw caught on the handle, and it swung open. Jennifer scowled at the dog, who stood just outside the bathroom, glaring back in. Jennifer tutted at her and shut the door again, locking it.
She pulled her jeans and underpants down and sat on the toilet, trying to relax. She put her head in her hands and smoothed her hair back, taking a big breath--baby weight, and swollen breasts, and sore back obstructing it. She kept sucking air in anyway, arching her back, and something popped inside her. The water under her splashed, and she froze, one hand on the counter next to her.
Her body crushed onto itself, and pain filled her abdomen. Her mouth hung open, frozen, and the pressure abated.
Mind blank, she sat on the toilet for a few more seconds, and then another crush unlocked her.
She braced her arm on the counter, but after a second of trying to heave herself off, a contraction dropped her back onto the toilet.
Her breath came fast and shallow. Her ankles tangled up in her jeans, and she placed her hands over her bump as another contraction shot through her.
She took the biggest breath of her life. "DAVIIIIIIIID!"
The word strangled off. Nana barked from a mile away. Another contraction slammed her teeth onto her tongue. A thin stream of blood flowed into her mouth, and she spat into the tub.
A dot of blood landed, a stain against the white, and Jennifer stared at it. She turned her gaze to the tub's faucet, where a dot of water hung.
Her vision grayed and swirled as another contraction pushed the air from her lungs. "David...."
"Jennifer! Is something wrong, are you okay?" He yelled from the other side of the door. Nana's barking continued. The knob rattled. "It's locked! Jennifer!"
A contraction squeezed a scream up her throat. She clamped her hands over her mouth, and when the contraction faded she yelled: "I don't want to have my baby on the toilet!"
"Jennifer, you need to unlock the door!" The knob rattled back and forth. "Can you reach it?"
A few drops of water dripped out of the faucet into the tub.
"Jennifer, you have to unlock the door! Is it really happening now? How far apart are the contractions?"
She took great gulps of air as the light spun around her, reflecting off chrome and porcelain. Her hand reached around the edge of the sink toward the door, but her fingertips ended a foot from the knob. She grunted and strained, leaning as far as she could, but another contraction snapped her back. "It's coming!" Jennifer shouted, gritting her teeth. "It's coming right now!"
"Okay! Okay! Hold on!" The knob rattled for another second, turning to its limit and straining the wood. "Nana, get out of the way! Jen, I'm calling 911, you just sit tight, okay?"
From her spot on the toilet, arms curled around her bump, she snarled at the door. She tried to take a deep breath, but her body rocked forward and she shrieked at the floor between her feet. Her abdomen prickled, and heat rose to the top of her head. She braced herself against the counter again, but gave up trying to rise after a single push. "Deep breath deep breath deep breath deep breath...." She whimpered each time her abdomen squeezed. "David!"
The water dripping into the tub washed the dot of blood down the drain.
"I'm here, I'm here! The ambulance is on the way! Jennifer, I'm going to bust the latch, okay, try to shield yourself."
Jennifer swallowed a lump in her throat and leaned forward. The tips of her fingers caught on the lock. She released a painful grunt, and the lock turned. She snatched the knob and pulled the door open.
David stood on his toes, elbow poised to slam down on the knob, and when the door cracked open he fell to his heels before rushing in. He slid to a knee and grabbed her hand, and she crushed it as another contraction slammed into her. "They're coming faster," Jennifer said, face red and breath whistling past her lips. "We don't have time for the ambulance. It's coming now!"
"Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay," Dave said. "Uh...We can-"
Jennifer pitched forward, screaming, and Nana went into a frenzy in the hall, barking as Jennifer's breath failed her. She jabbed her finger at the tub.
"What? No! Jennifer, we can't possibly-"
The strongest contraction yet squeezed tears from her eyes, and popped her mouth open, and she emitted a soundless cry. Dave caught her as she tumbled off the toilet seat. "Okay! The tub!"
He put his arms around her shoulders and the back of her knees, and lifted into a crouch, back and knees and arms straining. He turned and fell to his knees and lowered her down until her back touched the cold porcelain.
She grabbed the front of his shirt. "Towels." She took a few shallow breaths. "Towels!"
"Towels!" Dave shot up and ran past Nana downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed the entire pile of towels and rags off the counter. He flew back into the bathroom, and handed the biggest and fluffiest to Jennifer, who shoved them behind her back and under her butt. Dave unfolded the rest and laid them between her spread legs, and then reached into the tub and untangled her feet from her jeans.
Pausing for a moment, Dave pulled his phone out again, tapped no more than twenty times, and threw his phone onto the carpet outside the room. "I'm here honey, I'm here, it's going to be okay, it'll be fine. Everything's going to be fine."
Jennifer's eyes squeezed tears onto her cheeks, and her teeth ground together. Pressure filled her body until she thought she would split open.
She opened her mouth, and would later learn she had screamed loud enough for Louise, who was running to their back door after getting Dave's terse message, to hear her from outside. Pain like a pile driver shot through her, and an immense mass and weight disappeared out of her, and Dave cried out, and a few seconds later a third person cried out.
"Welcome home, Martin," Jennifer said, two days later. Dave intercepted Nana, who couldn't wait to get at all the new smells. Jennifer wandered through the kitchen and eased the baby carrier onto the dining room table. Martin slept, wrinkled pink face shining out from a bundle of blankets.
"I don't know about you," Dave said, "but I'm pretty tired."
"You think you're tired."
"I can be tired," he said, and swallowed her in a hug. She sank into his arms, not taking her eyes off the carrier. "You know what? I just realized my dough has been in the fridge for two days." He wrinkled his nose. "I need to go to the bathroom."
"Me too," Jennifer said, and she separated from him, heading for the stairs.
"I can use the upstairs if you want."
She shook her head. "I want to check something."
She stood just outside the bathroom, hand on her deflated abdomen. She flipped the light on. They had left the tub full of afterbirth, and the towels in the bottom stained. She stepped up to the tub.
Light gleamed off the clean surface. The towels sat clean but tangled at the bottom. Jennifer bent her head toward the drain, bracing herself on the edge of the tub against a wave of dizziness. She brought her ear to the drain and listened, and heard nothing.