“I meant my colleagues who have wives who stay at home with the kids. They use nannies. You’re going to need help, Ella. You can’t do this by yourself. You have to take care of the renovation. And you might want to have lunch out with your friends.” Ted shrugged, not knowing who that would be. “Or go to the gym. And we have to go to dinners. You can’t always take the baby—”
“I hadn’t intended on getting a nanny.”
“Well. . .” Ted shook his head, disappointed by her general ambivalence. Ella lacked passion. He’d never noticed that before, or at least not consciously. In bed, she could be shy but seemingly pleased. She liked cuddling. Lately, however, she didn’t appear enthusiastic about anything he cared about, including sex. But that made sense to him—how could she possibly feel like making love when she was as big as a house? It couldn’t be comfortable for her, he thought.
“I mean, maybe a night sitter here and there,” Ella offered. Her husband liked having a full schedule with parties and dinners and expected her to accompany him—to look nice and be sociable. Ted needed stimulation.
“We’ll talk about it later,” he answered. This would take a far longer discussion than he had time for. The lighted call buttons glared brightly.
Earlier that morning, after his broker had called with the news that the offer was accepted, Ted had phoned Ella right away, wishing only one thing from her: He wanted his wife to be impressed. He was going to buy her a house.
Ella was silent. She sipped her juice.
Ted put down his pen. “You’re headed to the doctor, right?”
“Yes.”
This was Ted’s cue: He was asking about her plans so he could get off the call. It was meant to seem that he was interested and thoughtful. As though he were thinking of her needs. Why did he do this? she wondered. Why did he think she didn’t know what he was up to?
“Okay, then. Gotta jump, baby. I’m backed up, too.”
“Okay.”
“Then, I’ll see you at home.” Ted waited for her to hang up first.
Sometimes he said, “Love ya,” as his final valediction, though she would’ve given anything for him to say “I love you” with some measured pause between each word as though he meant it, though surely he must have, since he had wanted to marry her so badly. But Ella didn’t know how to say any of this to Ted without angering him. If she asked him to change the way he said good-bye to her, then he’d be short with her or, worse, ignore her, giving her a kind of time-out as if she were a naughty child by working even later than he needed to or traveling for longer. Ted didn’t mean to punish her, but she felt that he often did. He couldn’t help it.
Ella stayed on the line, wanting some perfect wisdom to come. There must have been a better way to talk to her husband, whom she loved. She closed her eyes.
But, tired of waiting for her, Ted hung up the phone.
Later that morning in the examining room, the obstetrician confirmed that it was herpes. Dr. Reeson, a plump woman with a head of lustrous brown hair, told her that sometimes you can have herpes but not know it: “Practically everyone has it.” Her tone was as flat as plate glass. For some, it could feel like a minor cut with hardly any discomfort. The initial onset of symptoms for some could be severe, but for others it would be mild and never detected. She could’ve mistaken it for a tract infection. She could have had it for years—the virus could lie dormant—then it could be activated. It was better, the doctor said, that Ella knew now, since she’d be delivering in a few weeks. She could be monitored carefully prior to delivery, because if at the delivery Ella had an outbreak （which, in her case, came and went without her noticing any pain）， it was possible that a child could be infected with the virus through a vaginal birth. The child could suffer blindness, Dr. Reeson said, but the chances were extremely remote. “Awareness and preparation are the greatest defenses,” she said, wishing Ella would stop with the waterworks. She liked Ella—there was nothing to dislike, really—but she had a number of other patients she had to see. “Ella, every single day, women who have genital herpes deliver perfectly healthy babies. You have absolutely nothing at all to worry about,” she said, lightly tapping her patient’s round shoulders. Ella quieted herself, took her feet out of the stirrups, and sat up. She pulled down the hospital dressing gown over her knees.
“How? How did I get this?” Ella asked. It was almost a rhetorical question.