by Krista Wolf
I smiled back the guys slyly. “Shower?”
“No, silly,” he laughed. “Raid the fridge!”
Five
SAMMARA
It wasn’t like most doctor’s offices, all cold and clinical. This one had had soft leather chairs. Books instead of magazines. It was bright and warm, with lots of natural lighting and landscape paintings instead of medical posters splashed everywhere.
“Ms. Madsen?”
I got up, and the receptionist was surprised to see three men rise with me. Ryan and Kyle flanked either side of me, along with Dakota, who was so wide he barely made it through the doorway.
“Uhh… Are you—”
“All of them,” I said, before she asked the question.
The receptionist nodded quickly. “Okay.”
We were led down a long hallway, to a heavy door at the end. Inside were a trio of chairs, set across from a massive mahogany desk.
“What’s this guy’s name?” Dakota asked.
“Doctor Hill.”
“Hmmm,” he said, crossing his arms. “Doesn’t seem like a real name.”
Kyle looked at Ryan and rolled his eyes, as if to say ‘bringing him was a bad idea’. At best, Dakota was only being skeptical. He was looking out for my own best interests.
At worst…
“There, see?” said Kyle. “Diplomas all say doctor Richard Hill.”
I sat down between Kyle and Ryan. Dakota remained standing.
“Dick Hill?” he said, raising an eyebrow? “This guy’s name is—”
The door opened, and a sweet-looking old man entered. He clearly had Pacific-Islander heritage; Hawaiian, or maybe Filipino. Either way he had a warm, welcoming smile that immediately made me feel at ease.
“Well!” said Doctor Hill. “Which one of you is Sammara Madsen?”
The guys looked at each other dubiously. I elbowed Ryan before he could say anything.
“That would be me.”
Doctor Hill grinned and sat down across from us. “Pretty name,” he said pleasantly. He let out a long breath, then adjusted his glasses. “So what can I do for you, Ms. Madsen?”
“She’s worried that—”
I squeezed Kyle’s knee, cutting him off. As much as I knew he meant well, I didn’t want him speaking for me. Or any of them for that matter.
“I’ve been trying to get pregnant for six months,” I said. “And so far… nothing.”
The doctor kept staring down at my file. He flipped through a few pages without saying anything, before glancing up at me.
“You okay with everyone being here?” he asked, pointing around.
“Very,” I said. “Are you?”
The doctor laughed. “Oh I’m perfectly fine with it.” He raised an eyebrow at Dakota. “Would you like a chair brought in so—”
“No thanks.”
He went back to my file, which by now was extensive. I’d spent at least twenty straight minutes filling out forms in the waiting room. Everything from my prior sexual history to communicable diseases to the date of my latest pap-smear. Not to mention more invasive questions regarding prior ‘conception events’… among other things.
“Let’s see,” said Doctor Hill, almost cheerfully. “Mid-to-late twenties, good health, no bad habits, no prior history of…”
He went on for a little while, spouting more details plus some additional medical jargon before finally trailing off. He glanced up at me in the end. “You’re ovulating as normal?”
“As far as I can tell,” I said.
“Regular intercourse?”
One of the guys snickered. I couldn’t tell who it was, but silently I vowed to find out and break his legs.
“Yes.”
“Have you tried to pinpoint your most fertile days and—”
“All of that, yes,” I said quickly. It came out as impatient, almost even desperate. I felt somewhat bad but the doctor nodded appreciatively, showing that he understood.
“Okay then,” he said. “Six months is six months, but I’m not worried just yet.” He smiled up at me. “Are you?”
I shrugged. “To tell the truth, yes.”
“That’s understandable. But it’s okay. We’re here to find out what’s wrong,” he held up his hands rapidly “if anything.”
I watched as his eyes moved from Kyle to Ryan and finally to Dakota. He looked back down at the paperwork.
“You’ve been on the pill for quite some time.”
“Six years. Maybe seven.” I scratched at my head. “Could that be a factor?”
“Anything could be a factor Ms. Madsen,” he said. “Doesn’t mean it is though.”
There was a kindness and gentleness in his voice as he spoke. I could tell as far as doctors went, his bedside manner would be old-school. The type of person who would give bad news when he needed to, but also dispense it with a hug where necessary.
“So what do we do?” asked Dakota. He obviously couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I mean… what does she do in order to—”
“Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said the doctor placatingly. “Right now she doesn’t have to do anything. Anything except eat right, get regular exercise, and keep a healthy sex life in conjunction with her best ovulation dates.” He looked at me and winked. “And it wouldn’t hurt to go a few days before and a few days after those dates as well,” he added.
Kyle and Ryan nodded, almost imperceptibly. But I could tell Doctor Hill picked up on it.
“In the meantime we can run some preliminary blood tests,” he said, “to determine if you’re predisposed to fertility problems. Not saying that I expect you to be, but we’ll want to be sure.”
I let out a long breath I didn’t know I was even holding. “Okay.”
“Good,” the doctor smiled. “Of course, the problem doesn’t necessarily have to be on your end.”
Here we go…
“In conjunction with testing you, we’d also need sperm count and motility analysis on your partner...”
Oddly enough, he looked at all three guys again. Not just as if he suspected, but as if he knew.
I swallowed hard. I’d thought this might be the case going in, and I was prepared to bite the bullet.
“And if for some reason…” I paused to chew my lip, struggling with the wording. “If for some reason I need multiple analysis in that regard…”
Doctor Hill eyed me shrewdly before folding his hands on the desk.
“Then we could run separate sperm and blood compatibility testing for each,” he said carefully. “If that were required.”
I nodded while maintaining eye contact, showing him I appreciated his candor. His return smile was nothing but warm and understanding.
“Ms. Madsen, may I speak frankly?”
I settled back in my chair. “Please do.”
“I’ve been doing this a long time,” the old man said. “And in that time I’ve seen… many things. Many circumstances. Many scenarios I might not always understand, but circumstances in which a mother-to-be is simply trying to have the blessing of a beautiful, newborn child.”
He stared at me, holding his smile a moment longer before laying his hand over mine. “No matter what the circumstances might be, I’m happy to accommodate. My goal is to help you get pregnant. My only wish here, is healthy babies.”
He waved an arm at the wall behind him. Scattered across a vast bulletin board were hundreds of photographs — all of adorably-swaddled, newborn children. Most with little hand-written notes attached to them, from happy parents.
“Our goal is to get you on this wall,” he said. “Agreed?”
“Yes!” There were practically tears in my eyes, but I choked them back. “Agreed.”
“Good. And I’m prepared to do that no matter how many tests I need to order…” he looked up at us as a group now, rather than individually. “For however many people.”
Dakota unfolded his arms. Ryan, off to my right, seemed to relax a little.
�
��Understand?”
I beamed back at him appreciatively. “Yes doctor. Totally.”
“Good.”
He stood up, gathered my file, and handed me back the folder.
“Jennifer at the front desk will help you with what comes next,” he said holding out his hand. I shook it eagerly. So did Kyle, then Dakota, then Ryan.
“We’ll do our part,” Doctor Hill winked one final time. “Now don’t forget to do yours.”
Six
SAMMARA
“What about the Sperry job?”
Cindy got up from her desk and handed me a folder. “Already back.”
“And?”
“And they loved it,” she smiled prettily. “The client was very happy. They had three offers right there at the open house. Two of them were over asking.”
All the tension went out of my shoulders. It was huge relief. It was a huge job! One of our biggest non-commercial accounts so far.
“I stayed late last night to receive everything,” said Cindy. “It’s all good. Every last piece.”
It was astounding, really. That the very first person I hired three years ago had turned out to be smart, driven and competent. And yet that was Cindy. If not for her, our staging and design company wouldn’t be anywhere near where it was now.
“Don’t forget we have lunch with Merrick Studios on Monday,” she said eagerly.
I laughed. “How could I? You’ve only told me every day for the last two weeks.”
“I know, I know,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to be sure you remembered.”
I could tell she was more than just excited about it. This had been her lead, her call. Everything that came out of it was because she’d gone the extra mile, all while I was out trying to secure enough financing to move on with phase three.
Phase three…
Kyle’s idea had been such a good one, I’d quickly become obsessed over it. Truth be told, it had taken up a monstrous amount of real estate in my head.
“This could lead to a lot more work for us,” said Cindy. “Way more than we can handle.”
I sat silent for a moment before letting the corner of my mouth turn up into a smirk. “You angling for an assistant?”
“No, no,” she countered. “I mean, yes, we could use another hire. But they wouldn’t necessarily need to be my assistant. They could be my equal, or—”
“Of course they’d be your assistant,” I cut in. “And deservingly so. You’ve been the lone manager here for three years. Without anyone to manage…”
She laughed, but there was truth to the statement. We both knew it.
“We have three interviews scheduled for Tuesday,” I said. “Or rather, you do.”
“Interviews?” Her eyebrows crossed. “Me?”
“I put out an ad last week.”
I’d done it intentionally without telling her. Mostly because I didn’t want to get her hopes up. Partly though, because…
Because you’re a control freak. That’s why.
The voice in my head was Ryan’s. Brutally honest, but no less correct. I had wanted control. But the guys — not to mention my new doctor — were right. I needed to relinquish power, spread out some of my daily duties. Especially if I wanted to expand the company in a bold new direction.
I let out a long, deep breath. It seemed strange now to think how it all started, eight years ago, answering a simple ad on Craigslist. It was supposed to be a part-time, summer job. A quick few weeks helping stage model homes and department store displays while looking for something more permanent.
Only it turned out I was good at it. Really good.
My boss at the time made me a full-time offer before the leaves of autumn had a chance to fall, increasing my duties well beyond the scope of just riding along on the staging trucks. Soon I was doing design work, too. Learning the CAD programs. Even helping out with the picking and choosing of new inventory.
I’d loved it all right away, of course. Especially when I got the chance to work the floor plans for older, more vintage homes. The ones with history. The ones with worn parquet floors and ancient Persian carpets, and walls that had incredible stories to tell.
Years went by, and starting my own design company hadn’t even crossed my mind. Not until Dawn. Not until she showed me that it was actually possible, and the next thing I knew I was happily self-employed.
Yet the company co-founded by Dawn’s innovation had also been ended by her greed. Fortunately it happened the same summer I’d met the guys — the exact summer they’d handed me an unlimited budget to renovate the big Victorian lakehouse we all shared now.
The summer my life had changed.
Don’t spread yourself too thin, the little voice in my head scolded. Or you won’t be effective at anything you do.
Damn. Ryan again. And as usual, he was right about that too.
“Cindy,” I said at last, “you’re getting an assistant next week. And you’re getting a new title too: HBIC.”
She squinted at me now. It made her eyes look funny.
“HBIC?”
“Head bitch in charge.”
She laughed. “Sorry, but that’s you, boss.”
“Not anymore.”
Her smile dropped away instantly. She looked absolutely crestfallen.
“Y—You’re not…”
“Oh hell no,” I laughed. “I’m not leaving, or giving up, or anything that lame! Universal Designs is going to be bigger and better than ever. It’s just going to be informally split into two divisions: design and execution.”
It was a decision made after much consideration over the last few weeks. Especially since Doctor Hill. Besides, it was something I really wanted to do. I hadn’t been this excited about something since Dawn and I had started our own little interior design business together. One we’d built into something much, much bigger.
“If this loan goes through…” I stopped myself. “No, when this loan goes through, I’ll need to be focused on all new things. Which means I’ll need you to take charge of everything else — something you’re already good at doing.”
Cindy blushed adorably. It really was cute.
“But I—”
“You’re ready for this,” I interrupted her. “You practically take care of everything as it is.”
“I do not.”
“Oh no? Where are we with the Perillo layouts?”
“Finished them this morning.”
I tapped my chin with one finger. “Allen? McCullough?”
“Done. Done.”
“All outgoing invoices paid?”
“Of course.”
“Coffee maker emptied?”
Cindy made a face. Over her shoulder, the coffee maker still had half a stale pot of this morning’s black sludge.
“This… promotion,” she smiled sardonically. “Does it come with a raise?”
“You asking for one?”
“Maybe.”
I laughed and folded my arms. “We’ll talk about that after lunch with Merrick.”
Cindy nodded happily and headed back toward our office’s kitchenette. She was getting a raise no matter what, of course. She was smart enough to know it, too.
Outside, the sun was shining. For some reason, I was in a particularly good mood.
“Hey,” I said on a whim, “why don’t we knock off early? It’s Friday. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
She had the water on and was already rinsing out the coffee pot. “You pretty much read my mind.”
“Good,” I smiled. “Go.”
I watched her leave, practically skipping her way out. Cindy could run the place for sure, even without me. She was every bit as good as Dawn, only a hundred times more loyal.
“Hey,” she said, pausing at the door. “Better check your desk before you go.”
I looked back at her quizzically, but she only grinned.
“Byeeee!”
The keys to my jeep still in hand, I turned back and pushed opened the do
or to my office. Immediately I was hit in the face with the scent of fresh flowers.
Not just flowers. Lilies.
My face broadened into a smile. A twisted glass vase sat in the center of my desk, blooming with what had to be a hundred or more Peruvian Lilies. There were reds, whites, purples, yellows… It was the most beautiful arrangement I’d ever seen.
Jason.
I knew it was him before I even looked at the card. Jason and I had a few things that were just between us. Lilies were one of them.
Showers are another…
I pushed that collection of happy memories aside for a second and opened the little white envelope. The card was simple and sweet:
My Sexy Angel -
We’re long overdue for a date, just you and me.
Pack a weekend bag and be ready.
For anything.
- Jason
A thrill shot through me, rippling me with goosebumps. A weekend away… and with Jason!
A weekend to forget about work. To forget about financing. To forget about the results of my blood tests, which I still hadn’t gotten back yet.
Somehow it was exactly what I needed.
Seven
SAMMARA
Aside from the tragedy regarding my parents, I’ve often thought about how lucky I’ve been. How fortunate I was to encounter the guys three years ago, and how everything in my life since then has seemed to really work out.
Of course it wasn’t all luck… not by a longshot. Not according whatever algorithm Kyle had run on an NSA database, courtesy of Jason Briggs. I learned later on I’d been handpicked as the perfect match when it came to what they were looking for. Or rather ‘digitally selected’ from tens of thousands of local candidates, according to my traits and interests.
At one point it even bothered me, that Kyle hadn’t been in that bar by accident. That our relationship hadn’t been plucked strictly by the romantic hand of fate, but rather a blinding stream of ‘1’s and ‘0’s passing through some high-level microprocessor.