Page 39 of Kicking Up Dust

“Sit, sit. I’ll make this quick so you can go home and rest. It’s lovely to meet you, Blair. My name is Dr. Abernathy and I’ve been an obstetrician in Cedar Creek for forty-three years, delivering just about every baby in this city, including your handsome man there.”

He delivers the speech to his hands as he washes them and I awkwardly lower myself into the chair beside Colt, forgoing the exam table this time. The doctor takes a seat on a rolling stool and pushes himself across the room.

“I’ve looked over your scans from today and your records from your previous OB-GYN, and everything seems to be in order. How are you feeling?”

“Good. Tired.”

Dr. Abernathy hums, nodding as he writes something in a notebook, which is odd. Why not just type it directly into the computer instead of having to do it later?

“Your body’s putting in a lot of work right now, so make sure you’re getting your rest. There was nothing of concern on your mental health questionnaire, but if anything changes, please reach out sooner rather than later. This is a big undertaking, but you’re not alone.”

Colt’s arm wraps around my shoulders, squeezing me in agreement with the doctor, and I nod.

“Good,” Dr. Abernathy says, looking between the two of us. “Any questions?”

“Loads,” Colt replies, pulling away to get his phone out of his pocket. He pulls up his notes app and I balk at the amount of questions on it.

“Surely I can answer some of those for you back at home?” I whisper under my breath, but he ignores me.

“First: my dick is pierced.”

“Colton!”

Dr. Abernathy blinks for a moment before putting out his hands in a what about it sort of way. “Okay.”

“Well… should I take the piercings out before having sex with Blair? Will the metal hurt the baby somehow? Bacteria or… I don’t know… a metal allergy or something?” he asks, looking more confused by the minute while I just sit here mortified. We’re not even having sex.

“Is it fully healed?” Dr. Abernathy asks as though he’s simply discussing the weather.

“Yes, sir. I’ve had it for about four years now.”

He nods. “Then it should be fine. She’ll be more sensitive, so you’d just want to check in with one another more often and if there’s any discomfort, stop.”

“Of course.”

“Oh my god,” I whine as Colt moves on to his next question.

TWENTY-ONE

COLT

“Colt.”

Her whisper drags me out of the deepest sleep of my life, probably. I jack-knife up in bed, slapping at the nightstand to find my phone, my mind not putting the pieces of reality together yet.

“Colt!” she whisper-yells again, calming me only slightly.

“What’s the matter?” I ask at full volume, my eyes finally starting to adjust to see her silhouette and that of the lamp on my bedside table. She shushes me as I flick it on, wincing at the light. My eyes rake over her, immediately registering how pale she is.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Normally, I’d make a joke, but I can tell something is seriously wrong. A few hours ago, she wanted nothing to do with me.

“Blair, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” I ask her, scooting over and lifting the covers. She slips in beside me and it’s only then that I register it’s raining outside. No wonder I’d been sleeping so well.

Blair, it seems, feels the opposite about rain. Thunder booms, and she flinches.

Nothing’s wrong, I realize with a relieved sigh. She’s just scared.