My Grape Baby (The Grape Series Book 9) by Laura Bradbury

Author:Laura Bradbury [Bradbury, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9781989784341
Publisher: Grape Books
Published: 2023-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

By the time Franck and I left the kitchen place in Beaune to head to Docteur Le Foulard’s office, we were both in foul moods.

Designing kitchens was never the straightforward practice I always hoped it would be. Instead, it felt like trying (and failing) to play Tetris on high speed when the pieces were falling too fast and furious for me to slot them in.

To make matters worse, the “design specialist” we met with at the kitchen store had that popular French trait of taking positive glee in problems. Instead of finding solutions, he was far happier to mull over just how big and terrible our kitchen layout and openings were.

I just couldn’t understand why this was so hard. The room was a square with two openings—how could this feel harder than the wacky spaces we had turned into kitchens in our past renovations?

Franck was gnawing his lip as he drove into the circular road around Beaune’s medieval walls. “Fucking kitchens,” he muttered.

“Agreed.”

He pulled into a spot right beside the templar’s chapel and we made our way inside. Butterflies were running riot in my stomach, and the baby flipped. We’d be seeing the baby again. Was everything okay? I always wanted the assurance that my baby was doing well in there.

After a short wait in the waiting room where I caught up on the exploits of Caroline de Monaco—Docteur Le Foulard’s waiting room was always well-stocked with Paris Match magazines—he ushered us in.

He welcomed us with his usual distant reserve, and after he finished asking his initial questions, he waved me to scale in the corner of the room. “We need to get your current weight, Madame Germain.”

“In my clothes?” I asked. Why couldn’t I be naked for this part? I had gained a lot of weight in my other two pregnancies, even though my doctors in Canada had been fairly non-judgmental about it. The heavy maternity sweater and jeans I was wearing would add on a few extra pounds at least.

Docteur Le Foulard’s lips twitched. “Yes, removing them is not necessary for this part.”

Now wasn’t that ironic.

His scale was the old-fashioned type, with the little thing you moved along the top. I watched with growing horror as he moved it further, then further still, until finally it balanced.

I’d interpreted the whole “eating for two” thing rather liberally. Not only was it such a relief to enjoy food again after my first trimester of nausea, but with two young children at home and work, I ate to bolster my energy.

Docteur Le Foulard thinned his lips and ushered me back to my armchair.

He steepled his hands in front of him. “You are gaining too much weight, Madame Germain.” He certainly was cutting right to the chase, wasn’t he?

“Well … I did in my other pregnancies as well. I think it’s just the way I am.”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure how they do things in Canada, but pregnancy is not a laisser-passer to ignore good nutrition. In France, we have strict guidelines regarding how much weight a future maman should gain and we monitor it closely.

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