Chapter 20

I'd not only finished the Upfield, I'd read the report — though boring, there was quite some information in it — and I'd finished the book on phylloxera. I'd drafted a note to the Dean, thanking him for his time and suggesting a talk on "Invasive Insects of South Western Australia." Shirl had reworded it and sent it off. When I got into the office after my adventure in Monkey Mia, I found that as I'd left the date open, he'd suggested Friday, April 1^st. I thought that April Fool's Day was appropriate -- so I accepted.

Weena had been talking to her father nearly every day as his retirement neared. The dates he'd given us appeared to be firm, so Friday the 11^th — the day after tomorrow -- would be his last working day. He'd "knock off" after lunch and hoped to be on his way to Kal via Leonora before three. Including a stop in Laverton, that should get him into town by six or so. Weena had told him that we'd be in the Alice till Sunday the 20^th, but he was planning on staying a night or two in a downtown hotel, depending on when he got to Perth, most likely taking two days for that — as Weena supposed, stopping in Merredin.

I mused about hydraulics in Kal. Mining machinery, of course. I might need to learn about that, eventually. But not for the next year or so.

I needed to call my brother again. He'd have a good idea what my talk should cover.

And Charlie and Maddy ... I hadn't even thought about a gift. Probably Weena had. We'd have to shop this weekend. What was it, oh, yes. She'd take the whole of next week off to compensate for the two doubles on this past weekend. Not next week. The week of March 21^st to 25^th. I guess we'd drive south with her dad, looking at places to live. Weena'd sent him the stuff she'd picked up in Bunbury.

I picked up the phone and called Chaz.

"Eyre."

"Hey, Chaz. Gordy. How's it going in Floreat?"

"Not bad here. Michiko feels like a whale, but the doctor thought she'd have another month."

"Doctors don't know everything. If he's used to Aussie gals, Michiko must seem tiny, and maybe the calculations are awry."

"Possible. But it's she, not he."

"Still could be off. Does Michiko know what to do if she thinks it's time?"

"Of course. She calls me, then the doctor. How are things in Crawley?"

"Not bad. I'm talking to the wine folks next Wednesday, then we're off to the Alice on Friday. Maddy and Charlie tie the knot on Saturday, and we're back on Sunday."

"Will you see Dr. Friedel?"

"Yes. I think she and her husband were invited."

"I'm eager to have you named my boss."

"Eager?"

"I'm especially curious about a certain staff member of mine."

"Right. Has he made trouble?"

"Not recently. But I can see the signs that steam pressure is mounting."

"Well. We'll just have to see. I doubt whether anything will happen soon."

"Que sera, sera."

"I'll call when we get back — Sunday or Monday."

"Our best to the bride and groom."

"Sure thing. Bye."

"Bye."

I had been right: Saturday was devoted to going from one pricey store to another, rejecting objects that no one would ever want. Weena ended up with a certificate for two sets of bed linens — a certificate because we didn't know the bed size. The clerk assured us that the gift would be sent to the box in the Alice. Saturday night Weena spoke with her father, who was indeed in a hotel in Kal. He was hoping to get to Merredin by Tuesday night. His visit to the hydraulics firm was to introduce his successor at the mine to them.

Sunday morning, Michiko phoned and Weena spent a few minutes on the phone with her. "She's in a little distress. I told her not to take chances and to go to the hospital."

At lunch time Chaz called. "We're at Osborne Park," he said. "They're going to keep Michiko overnight, but they say there doesn't seem to be anything bad going on. I'll call again later. Thank Weena for both of us."

When I told Weena, she remarked: "Sensible, nearest hospital. They'll notify the obstetrician and she'll make the real decision tomorrow."

"Is it serious?"

"I can be. There are several possibilities, and I'm not going into horror stories. My guess is that they'll do blood tests, perhaps a sonogram, and then have a consultation. She must be fairly close to term. No predictions."

"OK. I'll try not to worry."

Weena turned to me when she was off the phone. "If you see him or talk to him during the week, be your best."

"Hunh?"

"No jokes. No comments about pregnant women. No remarks about the pleasures of staying up all night with an infant."