She smiled slightly. “This clinic is my baby.”
“But you won’t be my OB?” I asked, feeling tears prickle my eyes.
She shook her head. “I’m not an OB. I’m technically a general surgeon.”
“Technically?”
Doc smiled but didn’t elaborate. She removed a prescription pad from her pocket, along with a pen. “Do you have any known allergies to any medications?”
I shook my head.
With a nod, she quickly wrote out two prescriptions and handed them to me, and then she reached into the drawer and pulled out a blue paper. “Here’s a list of foods to avoid while pregnant. There’s a pharmacy about three blocks from here. They fill quickly for our patients.” She wheeled her stool back and then stood up.
I got off the exam table, prescriptions and paper in hand.
“Before you leave, check in with Charlie at the reception desk. She’ll schedule a prenatal appointment for you.”
“Thanks.”
I tossed the empty juice box into the trash.
“You still have my card?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Use it. If you need to. Not just for medical stuff.”
I frowned at her. “Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why are you doing this? What’s your angle?”
“Angle? There’s no angle. I’m a doctor, and I care. That’s all.”
“Okay.”
“Clearly you don’t believe me. Call me if you want. Or don’t. But I’m here for you. I mean that.” She opened the exam room door and waited for me to leave first before following.
“Thanks, Doc,” I said quietly.
“Call me Linden.”
I shoved the prescription papers into my purse and headed for the elevator. My brain should’ve been whirling. Instead, it was nothing but static. I moved on autopilot. I spoke with Charlie before leaving and she handed me a card with my next exam date. I took it and headed outside to the parking lot.
When I got to my piece-of-shit, barely working car, I thought about how my entire life had just changed in the blink of an eye.
I was scared. I didn’t know how I was going to raise a baby. But another part of me butted itself into the conversation.
You can do this.
Resolve momentarily pushed the fear out of my mind. I climbed into the car and drove to the pharmacy. My cell phone rang, but it was a number I didn’t recognize so I let it go to voicemail. I sat in the parking lot of the pharmacy, the car idling as I thought about him.
Slash.
I wasn’t sure what to do where he was concerned. Should I tell him? Was I supposed to let him off the hook? He had said he was a Nomad, a rolling stone. I didn’t want him shackled to me for the rest of our lives just because he was about to be a father. I didn’tknowhim. I didn’t know anything about him except for the fact that he was amazing in bed and that somehow, even after wearing protection, he’d still managed to get me pregnant.
He was a biker. I’d specifically gone to the Blue Angels clubhouse to hook up with someone I had no intention of ever seeing again. I knew they weren’t white-picket-fence, home-in-the-burbs type of men and had banked on that.