Mathew woke up to aching ribs and a pounding head. It still smelled like pig manure in here. He lifted himself off the couch and downed some ibuprofen. His breath rivaled dogs who drank toilet water, and he freshened up before returning to his fiancée.
Verity was still asleep, draped across the couch, wearing layers of ancient linens and wool. He opened his dismal fridge and collected a few things to make breakfast. Verity woke once the eggs began to sizzle, and she stood and stretched like a cat. She strode over to him and wrapped her arms around his middle.
"Good morning, honey," Mathew said. "How do you like your eggs?"
"Cooked is best."
Mathew chuckled. "Always so picky."
She kissed his neck and freshened in the bathroom. While waiting for her to return, Mathew called a carpet cleaning business who would be by later to scour the floors, and then dished out an amateur spread of eggs and pancakes, promising to buy everything Verity wanted at the store later.
And still Verity was in the bathroom, so Mathew knocked on the door. "Everything okay in there?"
No answer.
Mathew tried the knob, and the door opened. "Verity?"
His fiancée leaned over the toilet bowl and a sheen of green covered her skin. He rushed to her side and flipped her hair back just as another wave of vomit came up. He needed to get her help. She hadn't displayed any symptoms of illness until right now. What was wrong with her?
"Come on up. I'm taking you to the hospital."
Verity stood on wobbly knees.
"Wait."
Mathew gazed into her eyes. She was scared, and panic threatened to scatter his logical thought process.
"I need to clean up first. I'll feel much better. The eggs are getting to me. For some reason the smell of them..." Verity folded over the toilet and vomited again. Mathew agreed with her clothing and cloak, the hospital would be asking questions he wasn't at liberty to answer.
Mathew collected the clothing she had left behind. He stacked them on the bathroom countertop. He cranked the hot water, and while they waited for the heat to steam the room, Mathew returned to the kitchen and disposed of the eggs and opened the windows to vent the smell. They'd grab something on the way to the office instead.
In the bathroom, he helped her undress. The hot water caressed her skin, and she smiled. A pink blush returned to her cheeks, and Mathew found his hands massaging her scalp with soap suds within moments.
"You're so good at that. Come in here and I can help you wash."
Mathew's heart thrummed in his chest. A hot shower would do them both good. Verity perked up just getting washed. Mathew stripped down, and they spent a while saving water together.
***
MATHEW HAD DRIVEN them to urgent care since Verity vomited again after he disposed of the eggs and their odor. Verity insisted she didn't need to go to the emergency room after Mathew explained its purpose, but she was worried. She sat on the exam table while Mathew stood beside her, holding her hand. Bleach turned Verity's stomach and concern knitted Mathew's brow.
"What are the symptoms so far?" The nurse asked while shining a light in her eyes.
"Upset stomach. The smell of normal things can make me retch. Tender breasts and dizziness."
The nurse nodded.
"I think a blood test is in order to check your hCG levels. When was your last period?"
"Uh, I don't know?" Verity answered. She'd never heard of a period.
"Your menstrual cycle?" the nurse clarified. Although Verity knew what that was, she still didn't know the answer. Even if she'd been paying attention, the time travel scrambled her.
"I don't know."
The corner of the nurse's lips lifted. "I'll have the lab come and do a blood draw. We'll get to the bottom of this shortly."
Verity nodded and Mathew squeezed her hand. As soon as the nurse left, a woman from the lab brushed passed the curtain carrying a tray full of glass tubes. Verity swallowed a thick lump.
"Hi, I'm Ashley. hCG today, huh? I'll get it drawn for you quick here."
Mathew had warned her about possible blood tests, and the modern syringes were definitely less scary than the glass ones of the past, but Verity still didn't like the poke or sheath of metal shoved in her arm. Moments later, the nurse returned with a bright smile.
"What is it?" Mathew asked, his voice an octave too high. "What's wrong with my fiancée?"
"Well, Verity, you're pregnant."
Mathew's jaw dropped and Verity gasped. Her hand covered her mouth, and they both stared at the nurse while she crossed the room to the chair and sat at the computer. Her badge beeped in her access to the system and she clicked away at the keys.
Mathew's eyes glazed over while the nurse asked for primary care information, a preferred obstetrician, last vaccine dates, and to set up initial appointments, including the first ultrasound. Verity had no idea what the nurse was talking about.
Mathew didn't say anything. What did that mean? Verity turned to see his reaction, and he was way too pasty for her liking. Their eyes met for a moment before his rolled back.
Mathew fell back and landed on the cushioned chair. Verity and the nurse crowded over him, but he woke seconds after.
"What is it?" he asked, confused.
"You fainted," the nurse said.
"I what?"
"Her hCG level indicates Verity here is about six weeks along. Congratulations."
Verity hoped for a good reaction this time, but instead, Mathew passed out again.
***
MATHEW WAS BUZZING when he drove over to his sister's old house to deliver muffins to little Ms. Lewis next door. They had only been in 1853 for one day's worth of modern time. It felt like weeks! He pulled into the driveway in the historical district and killed the SUV's engine. Mathew smiled at his sister's rental house. She was never coming back, but she was in better hands where she was. April had a great husband, a business to help him run, and two lovely kids to look after.
He was going to be a father soon, too. It hadn't sunk in yet, but the excitement rumbled around in his brain. Mathew climbed the steps next door and rang the doorbell.
An elderly man opened the door just a crack. "I don't want anything you're selling." He eyed the muffins in Mathew's hands.
"I'm not selling anything. Is Ms. Lewis here?"
"Who?"
"Ms. Lewis," Mathew said much louder.
"Never heard of her. I've been here for thirty years."
Mathew cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Sorry to bother you."
Ms. Lewis didn't exist? The old man closed the door, and Mathew gazed at April's house again. Mathew met the old lady before, so something else had happened. April's front door opened and Kiko beckoned him inside.
"What's the deal with Ms. Lewis?" he asked her, standing in her living room.
Kiko smiled. "She wasn't born in her time."
Mathew stared, processing the small woman's words. "You mean she is the great, great, great, granddaughter of someone who no longer lived in the past?"
"Precisely."
Mathew plopped onto the couch. "Whoa."
"My work alters current and future events. Most of the time harmlessly. Sometimes for the better. I don't ever make matches that will harm future society."