He led her into the examining room and had her sit on the black-upholstered table.
"Now. Why the tears? Is it Mrs. Wentworth's twins?"
Frannie nodded miserably.
"It was a difficult delivery, Fran. The mother was a heavy smoker. The babies were lightweights, even for twins. They came in the late evening, very suddenly. I had no opportunity to make a postmortem. Regina Wentworth is being cared for by some of the women who were in our party. I believe - I hope - that she's going to come out of the mental fugue-state she's currently in. But for now all I can say is that those babies had two strikes against them from the start. The cause of death could have been anything."
"Including the superflu."
"Yes. Including that."
"So we just wait and see."
"Hell no. I'm going to give you a complete prenatal right now. I'm going to monitor you and any other woman that gets pregnant or is pregnant now every step of the way. General Electric used to have a slogan, 'Progress Is Our Most Important Product.' In the Zone, babies are our most important product, and they are going to be treated accordingly."
"But we really don't know."
"No, we don't. But be of good cheer, Fran."
"Yes, all right. I'll try."
There was a brief rap at the door and Laurie came in. She handed George a form on a clipboard, and George began to ask Fran questions about her medical history.
When the exam was over, George left her for a while to do something in the next room. Laurie stayed with her while Fran dressed.
As she was buttoning her blouse, Laurie said quietly: "I envy you, you know. Uncertainty and all. Dick and I had been trying to make a baby like mad. It's really funny - I was the one who used to wear a ZERO POPULATION button to work. It meant zero population growth, of course, but when I think about that button now, it gives me a really creepy feeling. Oh, Frannie, yours is going to be the first. And I know it will be all right. It has to be."
Fran only smiled and nodded, not wanting to remind Laurie that hers would not be the first.
Mrs. Wentworth's twins had been the first.
And Mrs. Wentworth's twins had died.
"Fine," George said half an hour later.
Fran raised her eyebrows, thinking for a moment he had mispronounced her name. For no good reason she remembered that until the third grade little Mikey Post from down the street had called her Fan.
"The baby. It's fine."
Fran found a Kleenex and held it tightly. "I felt it move... but that was some time ago. Nothing since then. I was afraid..."
"It's alive, all right, but I really doubt if you felt it move, you know. More likely a little intestinal gas."
"It was the baby," Fran said quietly.
"Well, whether it did or not, it's going to move a lot in the future. I've got you pegged for early to mid-January. How does that sound?"
"Fine."
"Are you eating right?"
"Yes, I think so - trying hard, anyway."
"Good. No nausea now?"
"A little at first, but it's passed."
"Lovely. Getting plenty of exercise?"
For a nightmare instant she saw herself digging her father's grave. She blinked the vision away. That had been another life. "Yes, plenty."
"Have you gained any weight?"
"About five pounds."
"That's all right. You can have another twelve; I'm feeling generous today."
She grinned. "You're the doctor."
"Yes, and I used to be an OB man, so you're in the right place. Take your doctor's advice and you'll go far. Now, concerning bicycles, motorbikes, and mopeds. All of them a no-no after November fifteenth, let's say. No one's going to be riding them by then anyway. Too damn cold. Don't smoke or drink to excess, do you?"
"No."
"If you want a nightcap once in a while, I think that's perfectly okay. I'm going to put you on a vitamin supplement; you can pick it up at any drugstore in town - "
Frannie burst into laughter, and George smiled uncertainly.
"Did I say something funny?"
"No. It just came out funny under the circumstances."
"Oh! Yes, I see. Well, at least there won't be any more complaining about high drug prices, will there? One last thing, Fran. Have you ever been fitted with an intrauterine device... an IUD?"
"No, why?" Fran asked, and then she happened to think of her dream: the dark man with his coathanger. She shuddered. "No," she said again.
"Good. That's it." He stood up. "I won't tell you not to worry - "
"No," she agreed. The laughter was gone from her eyes. "Don't do that."
"But I will ask you to keep it to a minimum. Excess anxiety in the mother can lead to glandular imbalance. And that's not good for the baby. I don't like to prescribe tranquilizers for pregnant women, but if you think - "