As soon as the truck stops rolling, I hop out. “Thanks again!” I call and slam the door, heading toward the nearest restaurant to make it look like that’s my destination.
Once his truck has rolled around the corner, I stop and change directions. Creep. I’m half-tempted to call and warn the police about him, but technically, he didn’t do anything to me, so I won’t have much to tell them. Not to mention, on the whole, I find it better to not get the police involved. Not when I’m trying to remain anonymous and under the radar.
I walk the block to the clinic through the chilly winter air, grateful it’s at least midday. I don’t look forward to having to hitch a ride back from the clinic, when it will be getting colder and nearer sunset, and I’m sure I’ll be feeling like shit. But it can’t be helped. I have to do this on my own.
Stepping inside the quiet clinic, I look around. Aside from one girl who looks to be in her mid-teens sitting in the waiting area, I’m the only one there, which puts me a little at ease. I’m glad it’s quiet. Fewer people to see me here, and somehow, one teenage girl makes me feel a small reassurance that I’m not the only one who needs this clinic. Still, I can only hope she’s not here for the same reason as I am.
“Hello,” says the girl who sits behind the plexiglass of the receptionist's desk. I would guess she’s in her mid-thirties. Her smile is kind and welcoming, with no judgment. Not that I should care, but I find myself incredibly self-conscious for needing to be there at all.
She peers at me through large round glasses that remind me of Athena’s nerdy friend. I forget her name.Maya? Mary? Mia?That sounds right. I’m irritated that my mind chooses this moment to recall Athena or anyone that has to do with her. And still, the thought of her gives me the fortification to do what I need to do.
“Hi, I, uh, need to see a doctor about, um, a procedure,” I hedge, dropping my voice and glancing toward the girl sitting in the waiting area. I’m not sure the receptionist heard me through the plexiglass. So I lean closer in case I have to repeat myself.
I’m curious about why they might install plexiglass, but I push the thought aside. I have bigger things to think about than their choice of decor.
“No problem. We’re happy to help with whatever you need. Have you been in to see us before?”
“I uh…” I haven’t, but I’m not sure why they might ask.Will they not see me if I haven’t been in to see them?
“There’s no wrong answer,” she assures me, picking up on my hesitation, I would assume. “I just need to know if I should be looking for you in our records or if you should fill out fresh paperwork.”
“Oh, right. No, I haven’t been here before.”
“No problem. And do you have any insurance you would like to use with us today?”
I shake my head in the negative as my face heats with embarrassment. I don’t like being a charity case, but I know this clinic offers free service for those who can’t pay.
“No problem at all.” She gives me another warm smile. “I’m going to have you fill out this paperwork, and then we’ll get you in to see the doctor.”
She slides a bright purple clipboard beneath the plexiglass, and I see a decent stack of papers clipped to it.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it and sitting down.
While the girl behind the counter seems quite nice, I still don’t feel comfortable giving them any real information. I don’t want anyone to be able to find me or track that I was here, and an alias will provide me with one more level of protection. The only accurate personal information I fill out is what procedure I need done today. I also have to fill out their financial assistance paperwork, so by the time I’m done, the teen who had been waiting when I walked in had time to be called into the doctor and was just heading back toward the front as I handed over the clipboard full of false information.
The girl behind the desk scanned it casually, perhaps to ensure I’d given her all the information she needed. With a nod, she gives me a reassuring smile. “We’ll call you back in a minute,” she says. “You can take a seat over there while you wait.” She gestures toward the waiting room.
It’s not five minutes before I’m called back, but rather than taking my vitals and having me sit on a surgical chair with those stirrups like I expected, the receptionist walks me into an office.
“She’ll be right with you,” the girl assures me before departing, latching the door closed with a soft click.
Before I have time to get restless, a tall woman with a dark complexion and kinky black hair cut close to her head steps into the room. She’s dressed in a white lab coat, and she flashes me a smile, revealing brilliant white teeth.
“Jane?” she asks as she closes the door behind her, so we’re alone in the room.
For a split second, I forget that’s the name I put on the paperwork. “Y-Yes,” I stutter, realizing she might pick up on my hesitation.
But her eyes remain kind as she takes the seat across from me, in front of the computer. “My name is Doctor Hanson. I’m the in-house counselor.”
Immediately, I stiffen, unsure of where this might be going, but Dr. Hanson raises her hands in a placating manner.
“I’m not here for anything more than to let you speak. I won’t try to persuade you one way or the other. I just would like to get to know you a little and see how you came to your decision today. I want you to feel confident that you’re making the right choice for your own well-being. So, if you don’t mind, I would like to ask you a few questions.”
Hesitantly, I nod. I’m not quite sure why she needs to ask, but I’m willing to play ball so long as the end result is the same.
“When did you find out you were pregnant?”
“Two nights ago?” It sounds more like a question. To be honest, I’ve been so muddled since finding out. I’m pretty sure that was two nights ago, but it feels like a lifetime.