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“Who, me? Yeah. I’m golden.”
I wouldn’t call it a lie. But it’s certainly not the whole truth.
“I don’t have to be a doctor to know that high blood pressure is bad for you and the baby.” His frown deepens.
I pat his forearm where it’s lying on the exam table. “Let’s just wait and see what the doctor says. Maybe it being a bit higher is normal in the beginning of pregnancy.”
“We’ll see.”
The door swings open and the doctor comes swooping in. She’s brunette and tiny, with a gleaming white coat and a no-nonsense smile Botoxed into place.
“Good morning, Miss Reeves, Mr. Daniels. I’m Dr. Sandra Marshall. One moment while I get reacquainted with your file.”She steps to the computer, swipes her badge, and then looks at the screen for a few long minutes. When she’s done, she looks up at me. “How are you feeling? Morning sickness?”
“Pretty good. There is some morning sickness but it’s not too bad.”
“Blood pressure is a little on the high side.” She looks at me over the rim of her glasses, waiting for an explanation.
“I recently lost my job. And there are… a few other things.”
I don’t elaborate. So Beck does. “She has a stalker.”
Dr. Sandra does a double-take. “Have you contacted the police?”
“Yes! Yes,” I say, moderating my volume. “It’s all good. I’m safe.”
She tuts like she doesn’t believe me, but then she sets her clipboard aside and unslings her stethoscope from around her neck. “Lie back for me, please. Just want to do a little routine poking and prodding.”
When I’m situated, she moves between me and where Beck is standing and runs through a few tests. At the end of it, she pulls out a measuring tape. “You’re measuring about… ten weeks, which is right in line with your last period and the due date. So only thirty more to go and then you’ll have a baby.”
Ten weeks.Goodness gracious. Has it really been that long?
“You might be off in either direction by a week or two, but we really like to keep the baby in as long as we can. We want the little one to be big and strong and ready to be born.”
I glance at Beck. He’s smiling, but there’s still an undercurrent of stress in the room. Maybe he ought to be the one getting his blood pressure examined. I know he’s worried and I want toerase it for him, but I don’t know how, much the same as he doesn’t know how to erase mine.
Dr. Sandra grabs my attention again and launches into a long spiel about prenatal supplementation and best practices. I do my best to pay attention, but I can’t help glancing over at Beck again every few minutes.
He’s got his phone pulled out and his brows are furrowed down as he types rapidly. Weird—it’s unlike him not to listen to something like this.
Finally, the doctor walks out. I slide off the examining table and stand as the sensation rushes back into my legs. “Well, that wasn’t too bad.”
“Mm” is all he says.
We walk to the parking garage and the car. “You want me to drive so you can finish your conversation?” I nod to the cellphone still in his hand.
“Nope. I’m all done.”
I frown and pull my own door open and slide inside the car before he can help me in like he always does.
Blame it on the hormones, but between the texting and the absence of his normal chivalry, I’m cranky by the time we’re on the highway. It takes a few minutes of pouting before I realize we’ve veered off-course.
“Where are you taking me?” I snap.
“We have an errand to run.”
I roll my eyes at his non-answer and turn back to my window. I’m not gonna takethatbait.
He turns onto 8th Avenue and then into a garage. I have no idea what errand we could have here, but when he stops the car, I get out before he can come around to open my door. It’s petty and I know it, but I’m not above pettiness.
