The Birthday Party

           Maria really did not want to go to this party, but her husband was adamant about attending.

           “We have to go”, Tony insisted, “How will I explain your absence?”.

           “Huh, maybe try saying how pregnant I am?”, she answered, “That will do quite well, I should think”.

           “Pregnancy is not an illness, as you always say. Please, please, please just humor me for once and let's go to one last big bash before the baby comes!”.

           Sighing dejectedly, Maria thought about which dress she should put on, which shoes would match while keeping her comfortable during the three hours she believed would be enough to satisfy anyone’s expectations. At eight months pregnancy, her options were limited. After much rummaging, she settled on a flowing leaf-green long gown with a deep “v” cut neckline, hoping the revealing cleavage would distract people from her protruding belly. The soft fabric, interwoven with silver threads complimented her looks quite well, the fitted bodice snug around her breasts, long, wide folds cascading loosely down to her feet. If you didn't look too closely, you hardly noticed her swollen figure, or so Maria thought. She nearly cried when trying on the silver sandals, really the only pair of shoes matching the dress, its straps squeezing her toes into fat little sausages. Discarding them, she put on a pair of tan colored flat sandals with wide straps that fit comfortably, not exactly fashionable or even party material, but…

           Sitting down at her vanity, Maria started applying make-up or, as she jokingly called it, “crafting her fake face”, although she did not find the ritual appealing. The thirty-four years old, tall, brown haired and blue eyed, vibrant and slim woman had been transformed into a bloated and tired looking creature, she thought. Why, oh why had she cut her hair so short? Was it really necessary? Unmanageable, the thick short strands stuck out in an unruly fashion no matter how many times she brushed them. Not cool at all, she pondered. Good Lord, how on earth would she ever be able to cover the purple shadows under her eyes? Shit! She had definitely let herself go, pregnancy or no pregnancy there was no excuse for it. 

           Woefully aware of the difficult task ahead, she settled on the basics: face powder to even out the blotched skin, mascara to thicken and show off her long lashes, a hint of blush so as to imply health and a soft pink touch to her full lips. And that was enough, as far as she was concerned. A heavy moon-shaped pendant at the end of thick intertwined strands of silver hung around her neck, a charm bracelet and her wedding ring completed the entire ensemble. She was ready for battle, determined to ignore her discomfort in order to comply with her husband's desire.

           It was a twenty-minute drive from their apartment up to the magnificent property owned by the lively widow, a close friend to her mother-in-law and an outstanding hostess famous for her lavish parties. This particular event was thrown in celebration of her sixtieth birthday and, as usual when it came to Isobel, no expense was spared.

Situated in the middle of an exclusive and expensive residential neighborhood high up the hills of the biggest urban forest in the world – Tijuca park, the mansion itself had been lovingly built by the deceased financial wizard who, in life, doted on his wife and wanted her to live in a fairytale like setting. Every detail of the build had to pass his approval, as he added his own ideas to the plans. He was aiming for perfection, a house for lavish living and entertaining and made sure to include many outdoor spaces for sports. The estate boasted an enormous man-made lake bordered by water lilies and stocked with imported black bass. A dirt-packed perfectly symmetrical wide path encircled the lake, allowing for pleasant strolls and the daily horse-back riding his wife enjoyed, three beautiful mares being stabled on the property. Tennis-courts, a deep swimming pool, incredibly well manicured lawns, an immaculate stable and a sleuth of separate cottages housing the many staff employed by the couple completed the estate, which was dominated by the palatial main house.

Driving up the secluded private road, they arrived at the entrance patio where valets awaited to quickly whisk away the vehicles. Ever clumsy, Maria did not wait to have her door opened by her husband, but rather got out herself, immediately stumbling on an uneven patch of granite brick paving. “Lucky I wore flats”, she thought to herself, while her husband scolded her and rushed them inside. Upon entering the massive hallway, they were directed by the uniformed butler (yes, the house boasted a butler, as well as a live-in housekeeper to supervise the daily cleaners and gardeners necessary to maintain perfection) to the main living room straight ahead, where they continued through the wide arched porch on to the garden where people were congregating.  Wrought-iron tables had been set up, complete with pristine white linen tablecloths, sparkling crystal champagne flutes, red and white wine and water glasses and heavy silver tableware. In the middle of each table, precisely positioned, massive tropical flowers arranged in ornate silver bowls lent color to the event. Waiters circulated discreetly amongst the guests, carrying trays of drinks and delightful hot and cold appetizers prepared by a professional chef, while a small band played lively music from the 60´s at the edge of the lawn, loudspeakers hidden in the foliage bordering the area. So many people were present, laughing and greeting each other and strolling about, one could hardly see the hostess.

What a crowd there was! Maria was overwhelmed by the sea of faces, people stopping them as they navigated their way towards Isobel, friends of Tony introducing their spouses to Maria, the names escaping her memory as soon as she passed them by. She herself, recognized few acquaintances apart from her in-laws, Ingrid and Louis. A nagging pain had started at the small of her back and she felt uncomfortable as well as underdressed for this event, especially when compared to the carefully groomed sleek women present, their expensive gowns and glittering jewelry silently mocking her style. Her mother-in-law, Ingrid, did not help with this feeling as she looked at Maria with barely concealed disdain before touching cheeks lightly in lieu of greeting. Used to Ingrid´s dislike of her, Maria just ignored the subtle hints of disapproval. They had never warmed up to each other, mostly because Ingrid believed her adored son had married hastily and without her approval, she being the only one capable of choosing a suitable mate for him. Besides, she had found that Maria had a mind of her own, and they had crossed swords on innumerous occasions before recently adopting a tense truce of “let us agree to disagree”.

Once they finally reached Isobel, Maria was warmly embraced by the tall, svelte and graceful silver-haired woman, who genuinely admired her and would often invite the younger couple to intimate dinners and smaller get-togethers. She thought Maria perfect for Tony, in spite of her friend´s obvious dislike. Ingrid, being a close friend of hers, was quite vocal when it came to her opinion of her daughter-in-law. Isobel would just smile and chide her gently, changing the subject, never openly disagreeing, but never encouraging what she thought of as a mother´s petty jealousy.

“My dear child, you look lovely! Like a mermaid surfing the waves, the dress compliments your coloring perfectly. Tony darling, you are indeed a lucky bastard, and I hope you know it”, she laughingly greeted them.

“Happy birthday and thank you so much for having us on your special day”, Maria gratefully answered, while Tony hugged Isobel and slapped her face with a loud mushy kiss as he always did whenever they met, much to the older woman´s delight.

After some light banter between the three, Tony excused himself and went off in search of his friends, while Isobel introduced Maria to those around them and steered her to Ingrid´s table, urging the pregnant woman to sit down and relax, motioning for service to a passing waiter carrying soft drinks and sparkling water. Maria sighed in relief as she sank down on the cushioned chair, thanking her profusely for her attention. She really was tired, her back ached, her head felt as heavy as a bowling ball and she just wasn´t in the mood for a party. It was a hot and stuffy night, being the height of summer in Rio de Janeiro, with storm clouds stalled high in the sky, and she was sweating profusely, dabbing at her face with the linen napkin ever so discreetly. But she was here now, and Isobel was so nice… And Tony was having such fun, she could see. Might as well enjoy the food, even if it meant having to suffer Ingrid´s company throughout the evening.

Munching through a plateful of delicious hors d´ouvres, she tried to engage Ingrid with inane comments on the weather, but only Louis responded. His predictions of a violent summer storm and comments of how unfortunate it would be and how it would ruin Isobel´s party instantly annoyed Ingrid, who sharply told him not to be an idiot, please! All in all, a discouraging beginning. Maria kept quiet and silently observed the people around them, still munching on anything and everything the attentive staff kept bringing to their table. She wanted to be unseen and unheard, invisible to everyone just because she was so dreadfully tired… She did not wish to seem ungrateful or unhappy so she kept a gentle smile on her lips and greeted people pleasantly enough as they stopped by to chat with her in-laws.

Pretty soon, younger couples started dancing while the older guests sat down and enjoyed their food and drinks, laughter spilling all over the place and voices getting louder as the evening progressed. Maria just kept nodding and smiling at people, looking around her and finding a measure of enjoyment through other people´s obvious pleasure. Tony moved from table to table, touching base with friends and family, as did Isobel, who often came back to her, enquiring about her health, how the pregnancy was coming along, if she had everything she needed, was she hungry or thirsty? Isobel had sensed Maria´s discomfort since the moment they had embraced and was gently encouraging the younger woman to feel welcome.

An hour after sitting down, Maria felt a wave of nausea hit her, unsettling her already full stomach. She quickly jumped up and excused herself from the table, being ignored by Ingrid, now deep in conversation with another couple. Rushing to the main house, she located one of the guest bathrooms on the first floor, a spacious room complete with an anteroom furnished with velvet couches, it had three beautiful marble sinks aligned on the left wall under a massive golden framed mirror, and three individual toilet stalls were set against the back wall. A uniformed girl was present, waiting to assist as needed by anyone using the facilities, providing fresh hand towels and any little service required. Maria ran towards the stalls, white faced and sweating profusely, closely followed by the young helper who kept asking her if there was anything she could do, was the lady feeling unwell, should she call someone. Barely making it to the toilet, Maria was violently and repeatedly sick, heaving and moaning while the frightened girl held her forehead and patted her back.

“It was the shrimp”, Maria explained, “I had too much shrimp”.

The girl helped her to her feet and settled her down on one of the couches, wiping Maria´s face with a lavender scented towel. She was obviously worried and unsure what to do, as she gazed down at the pale and trembling pregnant woman. Sweat caused the green dress to cling to Maria´s body, and moans escaped her lips as she felt her belly ache, her hips distending painfully as if stretched by an unseen evil force.

“I´ll be fine, I just need to lie down for a bit, it was the shrimp”, she kept repeating in hopes of calming the girl.

“Shouldn´t I get someone to come, maybe get a friend or your husband?”

“No, no, absolutely not. We don´t want to ruin Isobel´s party, now do we? Thank you so much for your help, but I am truly fine, it was just me stuffing myself silly with food, don´t you worry”, Maria reassured her, trying to ignore the signs her body kept sending in increasingly painful waves.

A bright bolt of lightning lit up the tinted bathroom window panes, followed by fierce and deafening thunder, startling the two women. Louis´ prediction proved to be true, as strong winds pushed the storm clouds closer and heavy fat raindrops poured straight down upon the party outside, people screeching and running indoors, the house staff ushering them under wide umbrellas and waiters racing to gather up the now drenched tablecloths and cushions as the sky kept being lit up by hot white streaks and thunder roared. Plates and glasses were left behind, the water soaking any leftovers. The band managed to recover their instruments and were instructed to set them up at the far corner of the covered porch, the party to be continued inside. Staff quickly changed into dry uniforms while the guests were accommodated throughout the three main living rooms and the big dining room table was set up buffet style, with new plates and utensils placed by a marble topped sidebar. A self-service style was now introduced.

Maria and her helper, Lisa, had no idea what was going on until four middle aged women came in to redo their hair and make-up. They took one look at the writhing, sweaty Maria and turned to confer amongst themselves. Rose, the older lady, introduced herself and took charge of the situation, instructing Lisa to inform Isobel of the new development, then turning to her friends and ordering them to ask around discreetly for any doctor in the house and find Tony asap. She sat down by the unhappy and moaning Maria, holding her hand and telling her everything would be fine. Within minutes chaos erupted as three plastic surgeons, one psychiatrist and a large heavyset lady, who happened to be the head surgeon of a famous private hospital, charged in ready for action. Tony followed close behind, shouting for his wife as Ingrid stood by the door, effectively barring others from entering. Isobel quietly pushed her aside and stepped in. Maria felt her calming influence and was immediately reassured, just as her waters broke and she went into full labor.

The hallway outside the bathroom filled up with anxious and curious guests, everyone wanting to know what was going on, enquiries being fielded by Ingrid who was now joined by her husband at the door. The butler arrived asking Ingrid should he call for an ambulance or drive the guest to the nearest hospital, to which those around issued their own opinions on this, some offering themselves as drivers, others whipping out cellphones and calling emergency units, paramedics, ambulances… It was mayhem, and Ingrid was powerless to stop the loud group of ineffective would be rescuers, but she made sure nobody else entered the improvised delivery-room.

Inside, the doctors started poking and prodding Maria who found this extremely disagreeable. She really wanted a woman touching her, preferable an obstetrician. Oh well, beggars can´t be choosers and she was surrounded by at least four medical professionals, so she decided to concentrate on getting through the ordeal as quickly as possible and let nature take its course. Sensing the nearness of the birth, the competent woman surgeon took over, pushing her colleagues aside and placing herself between Maria´s legs just as the baby´s head started crowning. Meanwhile, Isobel quietly instructed the psychiatrist to cover up Maria with a large towel and go tell the housekeeper to prepare a bedroom to accommodate the patient and the coming newborn.

Isobel marveled at the rapid pace of this labor, the braveness displayed by the soon-to-be new mother coping with the unexpected circumstances of what should have been a planned event in a sterile and appropriate medical facility. Childless herself, she felt powerless but determined to watch over the entire procedure in order to guarantee the safety of mother and child, as best as she could. As the birthing progressed, scissors were sterilized and handed over to the plastic surgeon standing by, for the cutting of the cord, while Stella, the surgeon, carefully guided the baby out of it´s safe enclosure, head first. It was an easy birth, a miraculously fast and easy birth for a first pregnancy.

After being separated from the mother, the healthy male baby wailed lustily and Maria cried tears of joy, being held by an astonished and slightly tipsy Tony. Isobel beamed and quickly set about dispersing the curious crowd so the new family could be moved to a spotlessly prepared bedroom with the help of the attending doctors, awaiting removal to hospital. Ingrid and Louis were repeatedly congratulated, and toasts for the brave little parturient were shouted about, glasses clinking madly. Isobel stayed by Maria´s side and helped her through the first nursing of the now tightly swaddled little boy.

“Beautiful child”, she whispered.

“I am so sorry to have ruined your party, Isobel”, wailed Maria, “I honestly don'´t understand what happened, why this happened now…”

“Oh shush, dear! What shall you name him?”

“Christian”, Tony replied, his diction slightly slurred due to the copious amounts of alcohol consumed, “Christian Anthony Donnalli”.

Seeing Maria's dismayed expression at this pompous name, Isobel leaned down and whispered,

 “Shrimpy, dear, we shall just call my godchild Shrimpy”, and she winked at her.

The end.