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“I’m on my way to grab dinner before class, so I only have a few minutes. And I don’t mean to be a downer, but I just can’t see how—”
“Hush and let me tell you what I did.”
The glow in his voice stoked a teeny ember of hope in her heart. “Tell me.”
“You meet clients at home, right? Pre-visits and all that for home births?”
“Ye-es.” She drew out the word skeptically.
“So, what I’m thinking is, what if my sister was pregnant and was interested in a home birth with a certified nurse midwife?”
“Is she?”
“Of course not. But she lives in a big apartment building in Oakhurst with multiple entrances, and her friend in the building is going away to Hawaii for two weeks. My sister has the keys to her apartment. So, the plan is, you come for a supposed consultation with her. If anyone’s watching you, they’ll see you enter the building. She’ll Venmo you a payment to make it legit if Pete’s goons are monitoring you. But she’ll be over her friend’s place, and I’ll be waiting in hers. If you want, she’ll even be here to open the door for you, and then will go across the hall to her friend’s.”
The ember burst into a small flame. “That’s a lot to ask. Are you sure she won’t mind?”
“It was her idea.”
Her mind kicked into overdrive, searching for flaws. “But she’s not really pregnant, so if Pete’s investigators look into her—”
“Her primary care physician is in a group building that includes an ob/gyn. And with HIPAA laws, nobody can ask which doctor she saw. And if she’s using a midwife, maybe she decided not to even bother with an ob/gyn. They can’t know her stance on that.”
“But I’m assuming you don’t want to do this just once, and eventually it will become obvious she isn’t pregnant to anybody watching.”
“You said we only have to be careful for a few months, right? So, before it’s time for her to show, the story will be that she had miscarriage, and then you’ll stop coming here. By that time we won’t need to worry.”
She winced—the few months’ estimate had been highly optimistic. But she’d learned the hard way as a midwife that the best way to deal with complications is one step at a time, with what’s in front of you. This would work in the short term, and she could deal with the next phase when they came to it.
And after the last few excruciating days, she desperately needed a safe space with someone who loved her.
She squeezed her eyes shut and blurted her response before she could second-guess herself. “Let’s do it. When?”
“Tonight.”
Her anxiety spiked. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to do it so soon. It would be better to have her set up an appointment with me ahead of time. Make it all look above board.”
“She’ll call you as soon as we’re done here, and you’ll just happen to have time to come talk to her tonight.”
She laughed, shaking her head. His child-like excitement was intoxicating and joyful, like bubbles in champagne. It made her feel valued and important that someone was willing to do all this for her—and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like that.
“When should I come over?”
“When is your class done?”
“Eight-thirty. I could be there about nine?”
“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” He hung up quickly—most likely to keep her from changing her mind.
She smiled to herself, but a tiny thread of anxiety pulsed in the back of her mind. She had so many balls in the air right now—was throwing up another one just courting disaster?
As if in answer, the burner buzzed again—with a text from The Mistake. She stared down at it, chest tight and her hands clammy.
I’ll be in your new neighborhood later today. Can I swing by?
The words punched her in the gut—he’d made the effort to find out where her new place was. The uncomfortable sense of danger she’d felt toward the end of their relationship came rushing back, like a peach pit lodged under her sternum.
It’s not a good idea. I’m sure Pete has someone watching my place.
