Isabella
“This will only take a second,” Dr. Jennings said in a soothing voice. He wrapped a rubber cord around my arm and held it tight. “I only need a little blood.”
I blinked. “Couldn’t you do a urine test instead?” I hated needles, and the sight of one was making feel even sicker.
Dr. Jennings shook his head. “Blood tests are more accurate,” he said, focusing on my arm. He placed a rubber bulb in my hand. “Pump this slowly,” he said. “With urine tests, there’s always a little room for error. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”
The panic rose in my belly as I saw the light reflected off the needle. Dr. Jennings moved closer and I winced as I felt the sharp tip poke the soft flesh of my arm. Even though he’d assured me it would be over in a second, the needle still hurt like hell. The foreign feeling of cold metal invading my body made me shudder, but I couldn’t keep from watching the blood fill the tube coming out of my arm.
Dr. Jennings chuckled. He was a nice, respectable-looking old man. I couldn’t understand how he knew someone like Zane on intimate terms.
“How do you know Zane?”
He chuckled again. “We’ve been friends for a long time,” he said drily. “I help him out now and then. He returns the favor.”
Part of me wondered what someone like Zane could offer a doctor, but I didn’t ask. Dr. Jennings’s curt tone made it clear he would rather be done with the subject sooner than later.
“We’re almost done now,” Dr. Jennings said in a soothing voice. I winced as he gently slipped the needle away from the crook of my arm. He was holding three tubes filled with my blood. “We just need to run these now.”
I sniffled. “I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “I feel really embarrassed about the whole thing. It’s the middle of the night, and you probably had to wake up to come over here.”
“Hush,” Dr. Jennings said in a mild tone. “I’m a doctor. I’m used to getting out of bed in the middle of the night because a patient needs me. Zane is no different. This isn’t exactly the first late-night call he’s made.”
I frowned. I wished he hadn’t told me that. It made me wonder if Zane had thousands of bastards running around out there. Or thousands of women who had gone through abortion because he didn’t want to step up and be a father.
“He knows I’m not going to blackmail him, doesn’t he?” I craned my face up to meet Dr. Jennings. “He doesn’t think I was trying to do this on purpose, does he?”
Dr. Jennings shook his head. “Dear, he said nothing of the kind to me,” he replied in the same mild voice. “And I wouldn’t assume the worst. He’s a good man, just very hotheaded. He needs space when he gets angry.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s probably downstairs pacing like a nervous father.” I laughed awkwardly. I hadn’t meant to spark any conversation about a baby, but I hadn’t really been thinking about my words either. When Dr. Jennings gave me a pointed look, I blushed. “Do you think he wants a baby?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
Dr. Jennings looked at me. “I couldn’t begin to tell you. A lot of men aren’t exactly welcoming of the news that their partner is pregnant. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t devoted fathers when the baby arrives.” He walked over to the other side of the room and pulled some pamphlets out of his bag. “Have Zane read these. They might help him understand.”
“So I’m definitely pregnant?” I looked around, feeling lost.
Dr. Jennings sighed. “It looks that way,” he said, gazing down at the test kit. “You’re about eight weeks along. For now, we’re going to book you a couple of appointments down at the clinic. And after that, well, you have a lot of waiting to do. Nine months doesn’t seem like a long time but for a woman with baby in her belly, it’s going to seem alternately too long and too short.”
I blushed again. I couldn’t believe I was pregnant. I did feel different, but I’d never been pregnant before. I had no idea what to expect. I wished I could go back in time and ask my mother what it had felt like when she learned she was pregnant with me. Had she been excited? Had I been planned? Or had she been disappointed and scared and alone?
I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about stuff like that, not if it meant dredging up memories from the past. I wondered about how my father had felt, too. Even though he died when I was young, I had a few good memories of him. He used to let me sit on his lap after dinner when we’d be watching television, and he used to read to me at nights. I remembered his strong voice, slightly accented with a bit of Italian. Dad had been like me: blond and blue-eyed; he’d been from the northern part of Italy. Mom had been from the south. I remembered her squat, dark frame, her masses of black hair, her heavy, angular face. Part of me wished I looked more like her. Instead, I was like a carbon copy of my father.
Was that what would happen with our baby, too? Would he favor one parent completely over the other? And the sex! What were we going to have, a boy or a girl? Suddenly, a wave of giddiness swept over me. I knew it was the middle of the night, but I felt awake and full of energy. Like I could run a marathon, or even something more challenging.
“There is one matter left to discuss,” Dr. Jennings said in a smooth tone. “Are you planning to terminate the pregnancy?”
The visions of cute, chubby Italian babies vanished from my mind, along with the sudden burst of energy. I blinked, feeling disoriented. “I’m not sure,” I said softly. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I just found out a few days ago myself, when I took a urine test at home.”
Dr. Jennings looked at me thoughtfully. “I understand you’ll need some time to make a decision. The reading material you have will help you. But if you do decide to proceed down that path, we’ll need to schedule the appointment sooner than later. Time is definitely not on your side here, Isabella.”
I blinked. “How soon do I need to make up my mind?”
“Fairly soon,” Dr. Jennings replied. “The time is almost up for a medical abortion; you’d only have about another week where that would be a good idea. Then you’ll have a few more weeks to decide about whether or not to have a traditional procedure.” He looked at me over the tops of his rimless glasses.
My mouth felt like it was full of cotton. All I could do was nod. I felt dazed, bleary, exhausted. Like I wanted to go back to sleep.
Dr. Jennings sensed a change in my demeanor. “I’ll be leaving now,” he said softly.
I watched as he gathered his supplies and slipped them back into his bag. When he was in the bathroom washing his hands, I sat down on Zane’s bed. My limbs flopped gracelessly on the silk sheets and I let out a long sigh.
“Thank you,” I said shyly when Dr. Jennings had returned. He’d straightened up and he looked very much the respectable doctor once again. “I appreciate you coming out here tonight. I know it probably wasn’t much fun for you.”
“It’s my job,” he said drily. “Will you be all right? I can prescribe you a light sedative if you need it to sleep, but I’d recommend staying away from anything heavier.”
“Please,” I said softly. “My head is swimming right now.”
Dr. Jennings dug in his bag and handed me a blister pack of pills. “Take half of one with a full glass of water, about ten minutes before you want to go to sleep,” he said in his calm, sedate voice. “And, Isabella, I want to be very clear with you: if you decide to continue with the pregnancy, there are a few things you’ll have to avoid.”
I blushed, feeling like a schoolgirl. “I know I can’t drink or smoke. Or eat sushi.”
“Caffeine is also not recommended,” Dr. Jennings said. “And your appetite will increase dramatically, but I want to encourage you to eat smarter, not just more. Gestational diabetes is rising in this country, and I wouldn’t want you to have to deal with that on top of everything else. Try snacking on avocado toast or a whole grain carb with almond butter. It’s the kind of healthy fat your body needs.”
I nodded. “I promise I’ll take good care of the baby,” I said softly. Emotion overcame me and I found myself sniffling as Dr. Jennings got up to leave.
“Good night, Isabella,” he said from the doorway. “Sleep well.”
I expected Zane to barge into the room immediately but he didn’t. I got up and started pacing. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he coming to talk to me? I felt a shiver of fear run down my spine. He wasn’t going to hurt me; if he wanted to hurt me, he probably wouldn’t have called the doctor. But what was taking him so long?
Just then, Zane burst into the room. I jumped at the shock as the door banged against the wall. Zane’s dark eyes looked menacing as he stalked towards me.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the baby?” Zane gestured towards my still-concave belly. “Why not, Isabella?” He glared at me and I cowered, pulling the sheet over my frame. “Isabella, this isn’t the kind of shit you keep to yourself!”
“You were ignoring me!” I cried out. “You kicked me out after we spent the night together and then you never called me! What the fuck was I supposed to do?”
Zane shook his head in disgust. “You really think that’s an acceptable excuse? It’s my fucking kid in your belly, Isabella! Most women would think, oh, gee, I should get started on contacting the father! But not you! God!” He put his hands in his dark hair and tugged it away from his scalp, causing tension lines on his tan forehead.
“Zane, I’m sorry,” I whimpered. “I didn’t know what to do! You can’t hold that against me! You made it very clear you weren’t interested in a relationship with me.” I looked down as tears filled my eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in being a father! And besides,” I added, sniffling, “I didn’t know what I was going to do yet. I had to make a decision.”
“What the fuck do you mean what were you going to do?” Zane roared the question at me like a fierce lion. “It’s my fucking baby, that’s what you’re going to do! This isn’t a decision to make by yourself, Isabella!”
Tears streamed down my cheeks and my vision blurred. I knew that he was right, but I hated the fact that he was yelling at me. It was just making me feel even worse about everything.
“Zane, I’m sorry,” I pleaded. “I just didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me! Hell, I thought you might even think I was lying! Lots of women lie about being pregnant, you know?” I glared at him through my blurry vision. “Damnit, Zane! Listen to me!”
He sighed loudly. He sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. “That kid is mine, Isabella. I’m not letting you get away with this shit so easily. Do you understand?”
He looked up at me and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Whenever Zane’s dark eyes locked on my body, I felt like the two of us were alone in the world. I felt naked, raw. Open for him to see.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I said through my sobs. “I’m too upset. This has been a rough fucking night, Zane!”
Zane shook his head. “You women are fucking unbelievable,” he snarled. “You’re all fucking alike. You just want to sneak and cheat and connive your way through life.”
My sobs came harder. I could barely breathe from the tears and snot mixing in my sinuses. “Stop it,” I said finally. “Stop it, Zane. I’m not talking about this with you anymore. If you keep upsetting me, it’s going to harm the baby. Don’t you understand that?”
“Jesus Christ,” Zane muttered under his breath. He got to his feet and stalked towards the door. “Fine, Isabella. You don’t wanna talk about it? Fine!” Throwing open the door, he walked into the hallway and slammed it hard behind him.
When I was alone, I shuddered. I felt so sick, so unbelievably worthless and alone. And what was the matter with Zane? I had no idea why he was being so protective of an unborn child he wanted nothing to do with. It was a mess. And it was enough to make me sick.
Finally, I cried myself into a thin, dreamless sleep. It was the second time I’d spent the entire night in Zane’s bed, but unlike the first night I didn’t spend hours dreaming of him. Instead, my dreams were nightmares. I dreamed I was pregnant with a demon, pregnant with something that could do an incredible amount of damage to me.
When I woke up, cold sunlight was streaming through the window. I winced when I saw what time it was; I was supposed to be at work in a little over fifteen minutes. But I couldn’t handle that, not right now. With trembling fingers, I pulled out my mobile and dialed Maison Bridges.
“Hello?” Tammy’s familiar whine came through the phone.
I was so glad Ricardo hadn’t answered the phone — if I wasn’t completely out of tears, I probably would have started crying. “Hi, Tammy. It’s me, Isabella,” I said in a shaky voice. “Listen, I’m feeling really sick. I was up all night with food poisoning. I can’t make it in today.”
Tammy snorted. “Right, food poisoning,” she said in a deadpan voice. “Got it. Thanks for calling. Bye, Isa.”
“Bye,” I muttered as I hung up and sat with the phone in my lap.
What the hell was I going to do now?