May 23, 2013 by Lyn
Friday, March 19, 2004
After Chapter 32: Garfunkel
True to Sylvia’s word, they were going to Dr. Caitrin’s.
Sylvia, unsurprisingly, did not waste time saying things like “I don’t want to go” or “I’m scared.” Just as unsurprisingly, her body language revealed almost nothing as they made the short trip to Doctor Caitrin’s office.
She was, however, holding Gar’s hand tighter than he could remember anyone every holding it. He kept reminding himself that, one, he was made of rock, and, two, she was reasonably worried and this was okay.
“How can I help you?” The nurse with the quaint nurse’s cap and little white dress had the same kindly smile she had had the last time Gar had seen her – when he’d blown up at Sylvia, leaving her full of Gar-shrapnel.
Sylvia did not seem inclined to answer her, either. Gar swallowed, wiped the image of her bleeding from his mind, and tried to answer.
He managed a squeak the first time. He coughed, and tried again; the nurse just kept smiling. Gar wondered if she was a robot.
“Sylvia needs to see Dr. Caitrin.”
“I don’t see a routine check-up scheduled. Is there something wrong?”
Yep, definitely a robot. Gar coughed again. “We think she might be pregnant?” In this school, there was no reason to whisper it. He whispered it anyway.
“Aah. Well, right in here, then, Exam Room Two.” She gestured behind her. “The doctor will be with you in just a moment.”
“Thank you.” Sylvia seemed a little stuck; Gar urged her along while trying to look like he wasn’t urging her. He got her to the room eventually, where she sat down in a visitor’s chair. “Maybe on the table?” He didn’t want to stress her out; he wasn’t sure what a stressed-out Sylvia would act like, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t like it.
“Oh, yes.” She moved, perching on the edge of the table. “The last time I was here…”
Gar remembered. “You were carried in. And weren’t exactly conscious. I’m sorry.”
“I miscalculated your anger. There is nothing to be sorry for.”
“But I’m still sorry. You might have miscalculated, but I totally lost control and exploded all over you. And, I mean, it’s literal with me.”
“Are you arguing with me over your right to be apologetic over something I’ve long since forgiven you for?” Sylvia looked like she was smiling.
“I.. yeah. I guess I am.”
“Well, you have every right to be apologetic and feel bad. I simply don’t think it’s needed.”
“…okay.” What was he supposed to say to that. “I guess this visit is probably better.”
“It hurts less, at least.”
“Yeah.” Talking to Sylvia was awkward at the best of times. Today it was downright stressful. Gar swallowed. “How does this work, in Addegoole?”
“I have never done ‘this’ before, but from my observations, it generally goes much as it does in the outside world. The pregnancies are usually very similar to human pregnancies, at least, and the health care is, I’ve been told, very good.”
“What about… afterwards? With like three quarters of the school in these relationships they got shanghaied into?”
“Ah. Well, in my experience, if the mother wishes the child, since the Law determines that she has custody, she will generally raise her offspring. Sometimes, she does not want her progeny; in those cases, the child can be given to the father, or to the créche Lady Maureen runs.”
“What about the dad, then?” What about me?
“The father’s rights are determined by the mother. In our case, if you had interest in a child, I would be willing to give you partial or complete custody.”
“…Oh.” Gar tried to process that. Custody. A child. His child.
“Sylvia. Garfunkel. How can I help you?” Dr. Caitrin stepped into the office and pulled her gloves on.
Art by the Inventrix
This story was written in response to Rix’s donation and request for Gar and Sylvia visiting Dr. Caitrin.
For every $5US donated, I will write 300 words on the character or situation of your choice. In addition, every donation will bring you to a small snippet of story – a new snippet every Wednesday! Want more?