Mallory slumps in my arms, unconscious.
"Get the medic," I bark to Vivi.
Vivi rounds the table. "I'll be right back," she says as she passes me. My mom gathers her grandkids in her arms.
"Vivi," I call out, as Vivi continues on. "She's pregnant."
Chapter 13
Mallory
My eyes flutter open.
Bright sun, relentlessly filtering through the thick green canvas above my head. Voices nearby. Beneath me, something hard and unforgiving.
What happened?
Scanning through my mind, I try to pull up my most recent memory.
I was talking to Vivi. I was so hungry and thirsty, and hot. Her voice began to feel far away, and my vision tunneled.
I passed out.
My hands fly to my bump, feeling the small roundness, wishing I could see inside. Peanut's ok, right?
"Hey, there," a relieved voice says, curling around me like a hug. Hugo appears in the air above my head. His thumb brushes my cheek, and he murmurs, "You got your color back."
Embarrassment creeps over me. I've never passed outbefore, but here I am, doing it in front of someone I'm supposed to be in an (admittedly unconventional) working relationship with. I'm gearing up to apologize when a playful light filters into Hugo's eyes, and he says, "What brings you to the medic tent?"
My breath of laughter is a relief, sweeping away my embarrassment. "You can do better than that."
Hugo takes a knee beside what I've decided is a cot. I shift, pressing my palms into the hard material and slowly pushing myself to a seated position.
"How about," Hugo says, looking up at me earnestly, gaze laden with remorse, "I do better by apologizing for not making your food and drink needs a priority?"
My hair falls across my face as I shake my head. "I should have remembered to bring one of my snacks." They are all there at the hotel, sitting on the side table where they aren't doing me any good.
"If you don't mind, I'm going to go ahead and take the blame for this one. I led you around the whole damn place without remembering you're eating and drinking for two."
My stomach rumbles. "Speaking of, is there something to get my blood sugar back up?"
Hugo hops up, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans. "You weren't out for long," he says, producing a large bright red cylinder wrapped in plastic. "Just a minute until I got you here and propped your feet up. But Vivi snagged a popsicle from a cart. It's"—he pushes on the bottom of the frozen treat, forcing the top open—"cherry. I hope that's ok."
"It's perfect," I say gratefully, accepting the popsicle. It's one of those enormous popsicles, the kind that looks pornographic.
But sugar is what I'm after, and this is available, so I don't have a choice. I try not to make it too sensual, too much like the real thing, but a phallic shape entering the mouth can't look any other way.
I avert my eyes, but my peripheral vision works just fine, and I don't miss the tense pull of Hugo's jaw, the way his throat undulates with a gulp.
He crosses his arms and angles his upper half away from me, like he's glancing out of the tent. "I should probably tell Jerry you're looking better."
"Jerry?" The cold sugar is hitting my system now, bringing me back to life.
"The medic." Hugo's still looking away. "He went to see if old man Murray is still here."
"And old man Murray is?"
"A doctor."
