"Well, thanks for the compliments, Señor Sanchez," he said, "but there's something else involved, another reason why I can't exactly go haring off being a spy and all, and why I've really, really got to be careful about staying out of trouble. You see, I'm going to be a daddy."
"Bravo!" Ruy beamed, leaning over to clap him on the shoulder. "Let me be the first, Señor Stone, to wish you every joy of this happy event. But where is your beautiful wife? I, Ruy Sanchez de Casador y Ortiz, must not be found wanting when there is a lady to be congratulated!"
Sharon was slower off the mark. "Frank . . . I mean, when? How soon? Where's Giovanna?"
"Here, Dottoressa Nichols," Giovanna said, coming over with a plate of pastries. "I see my husband has finally remembered that we have some slight news to tell." She gave Frank a friendly poke in the ribs. "I think perhaps three months? So six to go."
"You're looking well on it," Sharon said. "Any sickness? You don't seem to be starting to show yet."
"No, I seem to be lucky with the sickness. I felt a little ill in the mornings at first, but not recently. And it is showing, a little, but not in this dress. My tits, though!"
If there was one truly disconcerting thing about having married a working-class Italian girl, it was the utterly straightforward way she spoke about—
"—and when Frank tried to squeeze them, I nearly punched him. I think I did deafen him, I screamed. So tender."
"Well, that's normal," said Sharon.
Frank almost cringed. Across the table, Ruy shrugged and gave him a look that, in international cross-time Guy Code said, women, eh?
Giovanna nodded. "I thought so, I spoke to some of the other ladies around here. But I would know one thing, Dottoressa." A note of suspicion crept into her voice. "Frank tells me that the up-time doctors say that a pregnant woman must have no wine. Is this true?" She made it sound like they'd recommended she stop breathing.
"Well . . ." Frank guessed immediately that Sharon had run in to this particular piece of stunned disbelief before. "Strong drink isn't good for your baby, no. On the other hand, there's not much else that's safe to drink, and a dose of flux will be worse. How much do you drink, normally?"
"Normally? Watered wine when I eat. From time to time, beer."
"You shouldn't be doing too much harm, then. Try drinking cool boiled water instead, though, when you can have that in place of wine." Sharon pursed her lips a moment, then went on. "If we were somewhere with a good, clean, water supply, I'd say leave the wine out altogether, but around here you're probably better off with wine in your water if you can't get boiled. But definitely stay off the grappa, you hear?"
"Yes, Dottoressa," Giovanna said.
"When you've got a moment, drop by the embassy and I'll give you a checkup. I've usually got some spare time in the mornings. Shall we say Friday, about nine? We can arrange regular checkups after that. Make sure you're coming along well, and all."
"I could not impose, Dottoressa."
Sharon held up a hand. "No, Giovanna, it's not an imposition. I've been meaning to hold some free clinics anyway, build up some good will. You can be my first patient."
"If you're sure . . ." Frank said, although it was purely for form's sake. Despite Giovanna's insistence that she was from tough stock and wouldn't "faint like some useless noblewoman," he got the cold sweats sometimes, watching her carry on working. And proper up-time medical care was beyond price, as far as he was concerned. He'd had to live without medical insurance for most of his life, and had discreetly found out what doctors in seventeenth-century Rome charged. The prospect of getting an up-time trained nurse for free was too good to pass up. And it meant they had a regular contact with the embassy as well.
"I'm sure," said Sharon, in a tone that permitted no further protests.
Just then Benito came in, breathless. It looked like he'd run all the way to the other side of town and back. "Hi Frank, Giovanna, Dottoressa, Señor Sanchez," he said, trotting up to their table with a parcel done up in muslin under his arm. "I got the signora's fresh clothes."
"Thanks, Benito," said Sharon. "Frank, if I can have the use of somewhere to change?"
"Sure. Go out back of the bar and pick a room. Giovanna'll give you a hand if you need it."
"Thanks." Sharon got up and left for the back rooms.
"The dress was not all I got," Benito said. "See!"