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“She knows Sunita? She threatened you?”
I nodded. “She was one of Richardson’s submissives. She worked with Sunita during her internship at NYP. It’s a small world, and people know each other. She threatened to tell the administration about me if I wasn’t what she called ‘nice’ to her.”
“Oh, God,” Kate said and looked away. “She’s crazy.”
“She won’t take no for an answer,” I said. “She threatened me and she still thinks we’ll be all friendly.”
“Should you speak to someone about her? Is she dangerous?”
I sighed and considered. Was Lisa dangerous? Or was she just foolish? She said she just wanted me to be nice to her. I had been as nice to her as could be expected. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was that close to being a stalker.
I knew what I had to do. I had to speak with Lara.
“It’s Dawn all over again,” I said with a heavy sigh. “Lara told me that I’d have to keep my private and public lives completely separate. I thought that since Richardson’s was pretty anonymous, other than the vetting, that I’d be pretty safe. Being with Sunita was a huge mistake that I think I’ll regret for a long time.”
I said nothing for a moment, considering. As I watched, I could see Kate’s face fall, and I knew I was right to wait to tell her. This news would have ruined our wedding and honeymoon. Now, it was ruining her happiness and I hated myself for it.
“I’ll call Lara tomorrow and talk to her about it. She’ll know the best way to proceed. But I really think I’ll have to withdraw from the fellowship. If Lisa doesn’t get what she wants from me, whatever that is, I’m worried that she’s the kind of person who will retaliate. I don’t think she threw that threat out for no reason.”
Kate nodded, her eyes wide. “People who threaten aren’t the kind to go quietly.”
“Sadly, no,” I said and then pulled her into my arms so that she sat on my lap, the blanket a tangle around her. “But enough of this depressing stuff.” I kissed her warmly. “How are you feeling? Have you eaten?”
“Chicken rice soup and some crackers. I held it down, too,” she said with a smile as if she was glad to move onto a different subject. “But I threw up everything I ate this morning and at lunch.”
“Things should let up prett
y quickly. Usually by about the twelfth week, your hormones should stabilize and morning sickness should go away.”
“Twelve weeks?” she said doubtfully. “You mean I have another couple of weeks of this?”
“Sorry,” I said and made a face of commiseration. “Keep telling yourself it’s our baby doing what’s necessary for a healthy pregnancy.”
“I wish it was just morning sickness,” she said and threaded her arms around my neck. “It’s morning, noon, and afternoon and then evening sickness. The only time I can eat anything and keep it down is after eight.”
“If it gets too bad or doesn’t go away and you can’t keep anything down, you might have to go on medication.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to take anything if I can avoid it. Babies are born with two hundred chemicals in their bodies. I don’t want to risk anything by putting in even more.”
“Hey,” I said with a grin and lifted her chin so she had to look in my eyes. “I’m the doctor in this household. If I say something’s safe, it is, okay?”
“Okay, Doctor Morgan,” she said and kissed me. “But do I have to remind you that you’re a neurosurgeon and not an obstetrician?”
She winked at me playfully but I shook my head. “I did a rotation in obstetrics, I’ll have you know. I pulled a baby out of a woman feet first. I think I’m qualified to give you advice.”
“You are,” she said with a smile. “Now, have you eaten?”
“Not yet,” I said and got up from the sofa. “You stay there. I’ll go and get myself something. I know the smell of food isn’t appealing to you.”
She sighed audibly. “I feel like a bad housewife, not fixing you something.”
“Shush,” I said and touched her lips before kissing her. “You’re not a housewife. You’re a pregnant grad student with morning sickness that happens to extend to most of the day. I’m a big boy and can do it myself.”
I left her on the sofa wrapped in blankets, and went to fix myself some leftovers – a family recipe made with beef stew and broad noodles from Kate’s grandmother. Kate’s family had Polish and Hungarian roots on her mother’s side and I was introduced to a few new dishes.
The scent as the stew heated in the microwave made my mouth water and I was eager to eat it, cutting myself a slice of French bread and slathering it with butter. I carried the dish into the living room and sat beside Kate, who was now seated more upright.
“This looks and smells so good,” I said and stirred the stew, dipping the corner of my slice of bread into the gravy.
