“Oh my god, yes, please, sir.”
“Your wish is always my command,” he said, and we made our way to the bathroom.
* * *
One month later…
“Baby girl, you look green,” Dusty said, as I stood at the sink and stared at the faucet.
“I’m okay,” I argued. “I just need a minute.”
“This is ridiculous. You shouldn’t be on your feet.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m fine. People have babies all the time.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t never seen anyone get as sick as you. This ain’t normal, Rowan. You need to go see a doctor.”
“I have an appointment next week.”
“Rowan?” Scooby called as he walked into the kitchen. “Lord’s back in your off… what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m good.”
“She’snotgood,” Dusty ratted. “She’s sick as a dog. Lordy, nurse, heal thyself.”
“Okay, we’re gonna go see Needles,” Scooby said.
“No, I’m fine, honey,” I stressed, then my lie was revealed when I promptly turned and puked into the garbage can next to me.
“Right. Grab a bucket, we’re goin’,” Scooby said. “No arguments.”
“The diner,” I said.
“The diner will be fine without you,” Dusty said handing me a bowl. “We have help now.”
Scooby wrapped an arm around my waist. “Come on. We’ll get Lord on the way.”
Despite my further protests, Scooby guided me out to his truck, loading Lord into the back seat.
“I really am okay, honey,” I said.
“I’m gonna let Needles make that determination.”
“He’s not an OB, Crew.”
“Nope, you’re right, but he’ll know who to call.”
I sighed, dropping my head back and closing my eyes. “I have an appointment next week.”
“Yeah, but Dusty’s right. You shouldnotbe puking this much.”
“I’m in my first trimester, Scooby. This is all very normal.”
“I’d like a medical professional to tell me that.”
“Iama medical professional,” I bit out.
“One that doesn’t ignore their symptoms.”