192 The Birth Of The Baby

“Do you have to go to the inauguration?” Frade asked as he peeled the apple. “The doctor told me your due date is coming up.”

The skin he cut off with a knife was attached to the flesh of the apple, and less than two-thirds of the whole apple was left in his hand. I stared at the silver knife in his hand and asked, “Do you have a problem with apples?”

“I hope this knife didn't cut apples, but...”

“Stop,” I reminded him. “Watch your mouth.”

“I don't want you to go to a crowded place,” Frade said, handing me a peeled apple. “In that case, all eyes are on the new president. If you're not feeling well or...”

“Ian will have a nurse with me,” I said. “Besides, I only promised to be at the inauguration, and as soon as it's over, I'll be home.”

“I'm going with you,” Frade said, “Or I won't trust you.”

“Sure,” I readily agreed. “I'll tell Ian and get him to set you up.”

“All I have to do is stand next to you.” Frade walked to the bed and brushed my cheek, then put a hand on my belly.

“She's mo