“A little nervousness is to be expected,” Dr. Kramer smiled kindly. “You’re growing a human, after all. But your progesterone levels look good, your blood pressure is on par with where it should be.”
“That’s good to hear,” I murmured, relieved.
“Sure is! I want you to watch for the following symptoms: facial swelling, headaches, trouble seeing or changes in vision, and pain below the ribs. Those are all signs of preeclampsia, which as we discussed last week, you are at an elevated risk for.”
“I have been having some headaches, but I’m probably not drinking enough water, and stressing too much,” I said.
Dr. Kramer nodded sympathetically. “Keep an eye on those headaches, and try to up your water intake. It’s always good to be hydrated, especially while pregnant.”
“I can do that. When is my next ultrasound?” I asked.
“Your next ultrasound will be scheduled for the twenty-one-week mark, so six weeks from now,” Dr. Kramer answered. “If you want to find out the gender, we can do so during that scan.”
“Okay,” I nodded again.
Dr. Kramer gave me a quick examination, and then I was free to go.
* * *
Noah
* * *
My body was aching from hours of laying on my side in frozen mud, trying fruitlessly to fix the pipes under the Sprucewood cottage with Damien and Easton. Most of the cottages didn’t have basements, just a small crawl space.
Easton and I were secretly relieved when Charlotte called James. Damien wouldn’t allow us to admit defeat, at least not until he had no choice in the matter.
When James took over, he was able to spot the problem that had evaded us all day in five minutes. Unfortunately, fixing it was going to take a little longer. He’d have to squeeze us into his already busy schedule, and order the proper piping to replace the old stuff that was all but rotting away.
“Truth is, all of the cottages could use new pipes,” Easton grumbled. He was as filthy as I was. We were debriefing in the laundry room, waiting for Charlotte to lock up the front before we all called it a day and went home to shower.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Damien scowled. “We’ve already had to move the Joneses, and we’ll have to reschedule anyone who booked the Sprucewood cottage for the next two weeks at least.”
“We could always open up the Rustic,” I suggested.
“It’s smaller, and we’ll have to comp the price difference. But fine, whatever, do that then. Wait until after we open it up tomorrow and make sure it’s good to go. With our luck, the heat won’t work or something,” Damien’s scowl deepened.
The door to the laundry room swung open, and Charlotte entered. Damien’s scowl immediately vanished.
“Alright, we’re all locked up for the night,” she said. “Was James able to figure it out?”
“He’ll need to come back,” my older brother explained, his tone much gentler with his fiancée. “We’ve got to replace all the pipes in the Sprucewood.”
“That’s to be expected,” Charlotte sighed. “Unfortunately, a lot of the cottages need their pipes replaced.”
Damien didn’t get irritated at her for the remark, even though he’d seemed close to throwing a punch at Easton for making the same comment. Easton grinned, noting the difference, too. They took off, leaving me and Easton to make sure the back door was locked up.
“So…” Easton said when it was the two of us, his eyes sparkling with entertainment. “I heard something interesting the other day.”
“Oh yeah?” I had a feeling I knew what he was referring to.
“You asked Nellie out on a date, huh?” my younger brother shook his head, like he couldn’t believe how stupid I was.
“Yeah, I did. What of it?”
“Messing around with employees,” Easton whistled. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
I usually made sure to avoid entanglements with employees. So far, it hadn’t been a problem, but most of our employees were either related to us, or older than us by a couple of decades. Minus Jeannine, who’d tried her best to get with each one of us—even Damien, who’d been in a happy relationship.
