The Pregnancy Project

“He probably eats schnauzers with fava beans and a nice Chianti and he’s just fattening up the poor thing to make a good meal out of it,” Sara said sarcastically.

Ella laughed again but didn’t comment on her sister’s cutting remark. “Her name is Champ, and he carries her around in his pocket and talks to her like she’s a small child. And she seems to love him.”

“Give her time.”

“No, really, Sara. I’m beginning to think that maybe—just maybe—he isn’t all bad. Yes, his social skills leave something to be desired. A lot to be desired. But after a while Friday night he sort of relaxed a little and… I don’t know, he was nicer. He can even be funny when he wants to be.”

“He’s drugged you, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, I’m sure there’s some kind of make-Jacob Weber-easier-to-tolerate medicine in my particular mixture of Chinese herbs,” Ella answered facetiously.

“I’m telling you, El, he’s the most obnoxious, standoffish snob I’ve ever met. Don’t be fooled by him because he has a dog.”

“It isn’t only the dog. He…” Ella struggled to find the words to describe the subtle change she’d seen in the man. “He just got better over time, even after we’d let off the dog. He showed some interest in me as a person, not just as a patient. He asked why I do what I do for a living. He actually listened to what I had to say, and commented and participated in the conversation as if it interested him. He answered my questions about his occupation and why he got into it. We had a nice talk.”

“Nice and Jacob Weber? Uh-uh. The two just don’t go together. Maybe he’s mastered some kind of cloaking device to pull off a better bedside manner,” Sara suggested.

“No, his bedside manner is rotten—I saw that when I had my appointment. This wasn’t the doctor thing at all. This was actually like seeing the man himself. I’m not sure why it happened—maybe the chemicals in hot dogs have some kind of neutralizing effect on him or something. But I’m telling you that by the end of the time we were together, he wasn’t nearly as… As Jacob Weberish.”

“Maybe he has plans to eat you with fava beans and a nice Chianti.”

Ella rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying he didn’t start out abrasive and nasty and off-putting, because he did. I’m just saying that he didn’t stay that way. So maybe under the surface—”

“My advice?” Sara said, cutting her off before she could go any further in that vein. “Don’t get under any surfaces with that guy.”

Ella laughed a third time. “You’re hopeless.”

“What I hope is that you’re right and he can help you get pregnant,” Sara said more seriously as Janey ran to her to show her a pink rock she’d found. “But don’t let him fool you into thinking he’s a nice guy, because he isn’t.”

Ella’s niece wanted her opinion on the rock, too, and after assuring her it really was beautiful, Ella said to Sara, “The bottom line is that Jacob Weber is the best in his field and that’s all that matters.”

But that wasn’t entirely true.

Because she’d liked it when Jacob had mellowed on Friday night and she hoped that side of him was still in evidence when she saw him again tonight.

And she was afraid that if it wasn’t, she was going to be very sorry that it had disappeared.

More sorry than she wanted her sister to know.

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