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“Time’s up,” he says.
Just as he gets up to hunt down the doctor, the door opens. And my father stands in the doorway.
I immediately burst into tears at the sight of him standing there with worry marrying his face.
“I’m grabbing a doctor. Hold her hand,” Beckett says, tag-teaming with my father before he races out the door. My father takes my hand.
“You haven’t seen the doctor yet?” he asks.
I shake my head, trying to keep the tears at bay.
He grabs my head and pulls me to his chest. “You don’t have to be strong anymore. Let it all out. And I’m going to kill the doctor myself if he lets anything happen to you.”
The door opens again, and Beckett is shoving the doctor through the door, eyes glaring at the back of his head. He’s doing a good job trying to do what Enzo would do in this situation. The main difference would be Enzo would already have a gun pointed at the doctor’s head.
But even though he’s doing everything he can to be Enzo, he’s not Enzo. No one can replace him.
“Hello, Miss Katherine, I’m—”
“Does it look like she needs introductions? She’s in pain and scared, just help her.”
The doctor gives Beckett a dirty look.
“Can you tell me how you are feeling?” the doctor asks me as Beckett resumes his position by my side. Between my father on one side and Beckett on the other, it’s hard for the doctor to get close to me.
“I feel lightheaded, I passed our earlier, I feel like I might vomit, my stomach feels hard as a rock, and I’m bleeding pretty heavily.”
“Hmm, I see,” the doctor says.
“You see? What the hell does it mean?” this time, my father is the one to chastise the doctor.
The doctor ignores the question. “I’m going to listen to your heart and take your blood pressure.”
The doctor does his best to finagle around the two men standing guard over me while he runs the simple tests. “Your pulse and blood pressure are both high.”
“What does that mean?” all three of us say at the same time.
“Not sure yet. Have you been feeling any anxiety lately?”
“Yes, but only after my symptoms started.”
He nods. “I would like to run a few more tests. Get some blood work down, a urine test, and an ultrasound will give us the best idea of what is happening with the baby.”
“Great, let’s do the ultrasound first,” I say.
“I’ll have the front desk call to send for the ultrasound technician. But first the blood and urine.”
I agree.
And both men hold my hand through the blood draw even though I’m not in pain from the needle stick, just the unknown future of my baby.
The men both reluctantly leave me alone in the bathroom for the urine test, but as soon as I exit the bathroom, both are at my side again as we wait for the doctor to return to do the ultrasound.
The doctor enters a few seconds later, not wanting Beckett to come hunt him down again.
“Okay, it looks like it will take about an hour, possibly an hour and a half for the technician to get here. In the meantime, we have a small room with a bed you should rest and try to relax in while we wait for the technician and results.”
“An hour? Are you fucking kidding me?” my father says.
