(2018-12-24) Christmas Eve Miracle
Vic gets sick on the morning of Christmas eve in Iceland, and she and Calvin get laid low by a shocking diagnosis.
Players:
calvin..vic..

t's Christmas Eve, day three, and this is Northern Lights night. A boat tour has been arranged. The long nights of Reykjavik have Calvin waking while it's still dark, even at 8 AM. He has a habit of bounding out of bed the moment his eyes open but now when he shares a bed, he lingers and that is what he is doing on this morning in their pitch black room. He stirs and scoots to Vic's side. Calvin Shay. Musician, businessman, snuggler.

*

Vic has been amazed and awed by everything they've seen, from the Christmas Markets to finding the 13 hidden Santa Holograms around the city in windows and on buildings. Tomorrow is hopefully a trip to the blue lagoon for a spa day and a swim in the hot spring. She slept hard last night though, wiped out completely. As Calvin cuddles up, she makes a small happy sound, and stirs. And then sits bolt upright, and dashes for the restroom. Either she has to pee really bad or, yep, she's puking.

*

Calvin is left hanging by her dash so now he's slowly rising as she vomits. "Viiic?" He groans as he pushes up and off the bed. "Darlin', what's wrong?" He drawls, leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom. He makes a lot of noise after awakening. Snorts and coughs and grunts. "Did you get up and eat something?"

*

After the first wave passes, Vic brushes her teeth and comes back out in one of the luxury white fluffy robes. "That crept up on me. Might have eaten something last night that was bad?" She tries to think of what she ate yesterday as she slumps back down on the edge of the bed. "I still feel nauseous. I better not be getting the flu." Not on vacation, dammmit.

*

Calvin drops down beside her and feels her forehead and then neck. "No fever. Maybe it was the seafood appetizer at dinner?" He shrugs and now he's smoothing her hair. "You want some tea? Something light?" He shakes his head. "Nah, that was early when we had that and it's…" He reaches for his phone. "Not eight-thirty yet. I don't know how I feel about these forever nights." He starts tapping his phone. "Mmm. We'll get you feeling better in time for the tour."

*

"No, no tea. No food. Not until my stomach stops doing flip flops." Vic looks at him miserably. "I'm so sorry, Calvin. I don't want to ruin our trip," she laments. She rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes, trying to will away the waves of nausea. She just feels exhausted. "I think the constant night time is making me want to hibernate. I have never been so tired in my life."

*

Calvin leans back, his head against hers. "It's the northern lights! I don't care how much you puke, we are seeing those lights. /Whole/ reason we came. Whole reason." He teases as her wraps an arm around her. "I'll bring you a bucket." He kisses her head. "I can arrange for a land tour if the motion will be too much. Either way, don't worry about it, alright? That isn't until way late and you can sleep all day if you want. I thought we'd stay in today anyway, it's Christmas Eve and we've been going hard. We can just relax, stream something…"

*

"Do they maybe have an urgent care clinic here? Maybe they can give me some anti-nausea stuff to take. I don't want to miss the tour," Vic says softly. She slides back up against the pillows and draws her knees up, resting her forehead against them. "I was fine til this morning. It has to be something stupid like food poisoning right?"

*

Calvin nods and he's right on it, with his eyes down in the phone. "Mmhmm. I…yeah, there's a place nearby. We could walk but—" They have been walking a lot. "I'll call the concierge. They'll get us taken care of, darlin'." He smiles at her. "Don't worry, alright? Worse to worse we have to come back here one day. Oh no. Anywhere but Iceland, right? Oh, it's ringing…" Calvin walks out of the room for a few moments. He's one of those walk and talkers. He returns and starts lighting up the rooms. "He's going to call the clinic, find the shortest wait and put us on a taxi there! I love this shit. Get dressed." He says, tickled.

*

Vic gets up and gives him a gentle hug before she goes about getting herself dressed and bundled up like an Inuit in every possible layer she owns. Iceland is COLD. She leans on him heavily on the way down to the main floor though, a little bit dizzy now and then. The concierge kindly provides barf bags for her, and she ends up using one in the taxi on the drive over, apologizing profusely to Calvin and the driver.

*

Calvin seems to be alright, cool, relaxed. "It's okay, it's just fine…" He's in full comfort mode. "Things happen. Just say the word and we'll be back on our way home if need be." By the time they arrive at the clinic, his brows are beginning to knit together and real concern is creasing his face.

The staff were expecting them. VIP client or somesuch, Calvin usually doesn't throw his weight around by cash or name. But in this case, he's more than happy to be treated as a priority. They are taken straight to an exam room.

*

There is, of course, a battery of tests and poking and prodding and questions. One of the usuals is "when was your last menstrual cycle?" and Vic just blinks at the doctor owlishly. "Oh, I've never been very regular. Maybe 7 weeks ago? Not unusual for me."

The doctor looks from Vic to Calvin and back again, and does one more test with a blood draw, before disappearing back into the hallway to get it run.

Vic sits there and she pulls out her phone to look up her banking app and when she last had to buy lady products. "Seven and a half weeks ago. Huh. Maybe I am going through the change, but I read you have to go without your period for a whole year."

*

The second her last cycle is asked, Calvin pulls out his phone. His expression is tense but unreadable. "Mm. Maybe." He mutters. He's been good and attentive all through the visit but now, it's a whole different vibe. He seems to notice this and looks up at her with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "As long as you are okay, all I care about." Beat. "And the northern lights. That order."

*

Vic looks heartbroken at the idea she might not be able to give Calvin that baby they've been talking about. "Calvin, if we can't…what then? I didn't even think about what if I can't?" Her lip wibbles a little as she tries very hard not to cry and make things worse.

*

"Oh, what?" No. Don't!" Calvin says, sternly. He stands up from his seat and takes her head in his hands. "Hey. We aren't spring chickens so…it's a possibility. My vasectomy might not be reversible either. There are alternative ways to parenthood besides fucking. Various donations, IVF, surrogates and adoptions. We're going to make this happen, okay? As long as we both want it, I'm gonna make it happen. Tuck that lip in." He kisses her forehead.

*

The doctor comes back in and smiles broadly. "Congratulations! You're going to be parents! Now there are a lot of precautions you are going to need to take because at your age this is considered a geriatric pregnancy. But these days you can have your baby safely. I'm guessing your irregular cycle has preserved more than the usual eggs at your age, so you were able to conceive."

Vic stares at the doctor like he just told her she had sprouted a second head. "Wait, what? That's not possible. He had a vasectomy a long time ago and I haven't been with anyone else!" She looks at Calvin. "I haven't!"

*

Calvin's ruddy color just drains and he drops into his seat. He looks between the doctor and Vic and it's her that gets the look of skepticism. Back to the doctor, "Yeah, um, I had a vasectomy three years ago. My count was nil at my last appointment with him. Which was, you know, the follow up. It's not supposed to fu—sorry, it's not supposed to fail, right? That is what I was told." He pauses and puts up his hands. "Look, um, you see this is a shock. I'm gonna get her back home to the states soon, since there is a risk here. Just a moment, please?"

*

The doctor waves a hand in the air at the questions. "Vasectomies can self-reverse. It's rare, but the vas deferens has been known to bypass the scar tissue from the procedure and reattach itself within the first 3 or so years. We can do a test to check sperm count for Mister Shay to be certaibn." He looks towards Calvin. "Has your lifestyle changed drastically in the last few years? That can often be a reason for this to happen." He moves to a cabinet and pulls out a cup. "There is a bathroom down the hall if you could, ahem, provide a sample? As for the nausea, I can give you something to control it for the remainder of your vacation but I suggest just riding it out when you get home. If it becomes severe, though, you'll need to see your OBGYN so you don't get dehydrated."

Vic just continues to stare, dumbstruck, at the doctor. She blinks every once in a while, a hand going to her stomach. "Either that happened, or this is an immaculate conception and I'm carrying the second coming," she mumbles.

*

The doc leaves the cup and the room to give them some privacy.

*

Calvin is staring at that cup as if he hopes it will catch fire by his will alone. Then that stare is focused on Vic. "My doctor…mentioned reversal. Rare side effect. He'd never seen one but his colleagues had. I…fuck. It could have reversed at any time." He stands up, cup in hand. "I was celibate. From the time I kicked dope until you. It was part of my process. Before that, uh…protected sex was practiced about half the time. I had a steady girlfriend so it was hit and miss but we broke it off while I was in rehab /because/ I wanted to practice celibacy. So…any time…" He starts for the door but turns suddenly and steps to Vic. "I'm only going to ask you once. One time, Victoria. One. Fucking. Time." He sighs. "Since…hell, that night after Thanksgiving, have you been with anyone else besides me? Don't lie to me, Vic. The truth will out. Now or in nine months."

*

"Calvin, I haven't been with anyone since Evan died. No one. Not until you. I would never lie to you about something like that. I would never lie to you, period. I love you." Vic looks absolute devastated that he would even think she could cheat on him. Her eyes well up but she looks away from him, her jaw setting in a hard line. That hurt, clearly.

*

Calvin nods after a moment. "I…I don't mean. Just—what the fuck?" He takes a deep breath. "I'm going to head down the hall and try to relax and think of England. I hope…for both our sakes, that my swimmers are present." He leaves the room with a sigh and a slamming door.

He returns after a short amount of time, sans cup. "Thank fuck for PornHub." He mutters, sullenly.

*

Vic has withdrawn into herself, her clothes back on from the gown they had her in, sitting in a chair now rather than on the exam table, staring at the wall. She seems to be battling both the nausea and her emotions at the same time and her eyes are red-rimmed like she may have cried a bit while he was out of the room. She doesn't say a word while they wait, her arms wrapped around herself.

*

Calvin waits in silence, as well, with his eyes firmly on his phone. He won't look at Vic and his tight, closed posture is telling no tales. He's very still here. Relaxed and happy, Calvin is kinetic but now? It's like a corpse has been brought in.

*

For her part, Vic remains motionless, just looking at some health chart information poster on the wall, waiting. Waiting.

The doctor returns and hands Calvin a sheet of paper with his analysis on it. His sperm count is no longer nil. It's low, certainly, as average is 200 million/mL, but at 90 million/mL there are plenty of swimmers getting through. If they are healthy, then there's no reason one of them couldn't have found their way to knocking up Vic.

*

Calvin seems to be reading the paper over and over. Check. Double. Triple and then he slumps. "Fuck." He sighs. He thanks the doctor and sends him back out. "Just get us, um…what we need to fly home safely, please? I don't want her away from home much longer. The risk and all." Once the doctor is gone, Calvin presses his back against the door. "I'm sorry. I meant to hurt you and I did and now I regret it, alright? But, you know, what else was I supposed to think? I was supposed to be sterile but I am not. It's in black and white and…" He takes a deep breath. "We are middle aged adults. We aren't lovesick teens or even starry-eyed twenty somethings. We actually wanted this…just not before the album but…" He hands her his phone. "You are probably due in August, Mama. See. I looked it up." Beat. "You know…twins occur in older women at a higher rate." He smirks.

*

"My grandmother was a twin," Vic says absently, still in that state of withdrawal from reality. "They say it skips a generation. She's dazed, still dizzy and nauseous, and just got hit full force in the face with the whammy of pregnancy, the accusation of possible infidelity, and the messing up of the vacation. Her eyes flicker towards the offered phone. August. "We're having a baby." She blinks. "But the lights? We need to go see the lights."

The doctor scribbles on a pad and hands Calvin a prescription with an anti-nausea prescription and one for prenatal vitamins. "Don't take anything else without consulting your physician. Ginger root capsules and vitamin B6 will help with the morning sickness as well. No reason for you to cut your trip short as long as you are feeling up to the remainder. Just rest when you need to."

*

Calvin thanks the doctor again, folding up the prescriptions into his pocket. "If we have twins…I'm not sure who is going to die first, me or my mother." He laughs and there is relief in that sound. "She'll just be jealous that you got a heads up. She didn't even know their were two until she had one come out and the nurse tells her she wasn't finished. That's why we didn't know who was older. There was a lot of confusion. We were both underweight. Made two feel like one, she says." He laughs again. "We are having a baby. Oh, Christ…Dex would just…maybe if I tell him, he'll rise from the dead? Because I can't imagine him missing a chance to say I told you so." He steps closer to Vic now. "Hey…we'll get a land tour for the lights. Then, we take the jet back home and…we get to work." Whatever that means.

*

Vic blinks up at him and she doesn't look like she knows whether to laugh or cry or scream. "My dad might kill you first," she murmurs as she stands a bit wobbly. The fact she didn't flat out faint at the news is probably a good sign at least. "Get to work?" she asks. Blink blink. "I don't even know how to put on a diaper. Fuckshitfuck." She pauses. "Well, I guess we got a special Christmas Eve gift."

*

"That is the work I mean." Calvin begins to tick on his fingers. "I have a career to revive, a long lost daughter to bond with, many, many people to explain my situation to. And I have never held a little baby. Bigger ones, toddlers. But not itty bitty ones. Diapers? Bottles? All that shit? I've spent my whole life thinking I would never have a baby so why bother learning I mean…damn, Mama." He leans in and kisses her cheek. He's gotta avoid that mouth for now. "We did get a gift. I don't have to have anyone poking at my junk again." He winks. "I can hold on to that for a while."

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