It Started with a Pregnancy

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It Started with a Pregnancy Page 5

by Christy Jeffries


  “No problem.” Rebekah tried to smile at the breastfeeding mom, but all she could focus on were the dark circles under the woman’s eyes. Rebekah’s mother’s eyes had often appeared equally tired after being up all night with one of the many newborns her parents had fostered over the years. Being around one crying baby after the next had easily convinced a teenaged Rebekah that motherhood wasn’t for her.

  So then, how had she wound up here? And with Grant, of all people? At least he’d found a seat in the corner and was politely avoiding looking at anything besides the parenting magazine he must’ve picked up from one of the side tables.

  Thankfully, she’d saved time by completing all the new patient forms online. How awkward would that have been to fill out her medical history chart with Grant hovering nearby?

  Taking several deep breaths, she slowly trudged to where he sat and had no more than settled into a plush, emerald-green velvet chair when a woman wearing floral printed scrubs called from a doorway, “Rebekah Taylor?”

  Rebekah grimaced at the use of her full name, and thereby the loss of her anonymity, then forced another fake smile as she stood up and walked toward the door.

  The nurse pointed out the bathroom, then held up a small plastic cup with a lid and said, “While you give us a sample, I’ll take Daddy here to the exam room.”

  Rebekah’s head pivoted and she gasped at seeing Grant now standing behind her. When she’d told him he could come to the doctor’s, she’d meant to the parking lot. Maybe as far as the lobby. Nobody had ever mentioned anything about him actually being inside the exam room with her. He must’ve seen the daggers her eyes were shooting because he took a step back.

  “Or would you rather I wait out here?” Grant asked, and Rebekah wanted to retort that she’d prefer he waited in Jacksonville, Florida. Instead, her mouth opened and closed several times because she wasn’t quite sure how to say this in front of the nurse without revealing that she’d been comfortable enough to have the man in her bed, but was not quite comfortable having him present in any other aspect of her life. When she didn’t reply, Grant faced the nurse. “Is it normal for fathers to go in the exam room?”

  “Very normal.” The nurse nodded a bit too eagerly. “We like the daddies to be involved whenever possible. In fact, we have one patient whose husband is on deployment right now and she brings in her laptop and a webcam so he can watch via video chat. It’s really the sweetest thing.”

  Oh, great. Rebekah should’ve spoken up when she had the chance. It was bad enough that the nurse was encouraging Grant to come back there with her. Now he’d think that she should broadcast all of her future appointments when he couldn’t be there in person. At least he still had the courtesy to lift a questioning brow at her before barging through the door behind her.

  “Fine,” she sighed, then lowered her voice as they walked along the hall. “But don’t you dare look when I get on the scale.”

  Rebekah stepped into the restroom to give her urine sample and then made her way into the exam room where Grant was staring wide-eyed at a colorful poster showing each stage of the cervix during the dilation process. She would’ve laughed at how pale his face had gone if the nurse hadn’t pointed to a hospital-style gown and instructed Rebecca to change out of her clothes.

  Grant gave a discreet cough before telling nobody in particular, “I’m just going to step down the hall and grab a drink from the water cooler.”

  When she was finally left alone to change, she hurriedly unzipped her dress and attempted to toss it over a nearby chair, but the thing—along with what was left of Rebekah’s pride—slithered to the floor. Actually, Grant would probably need to sit in that chair anyway, since the doctor would likely use the stool. So she hung her dress on the hook behind the door, then quickly peeled off her bra and panties and wadded them into a ball to hide in her purse. She was still tying the gown closed when there was a knock on the door.

  “Hi, I’m Dr. Singh,” a very young woman said as she breezed into the room. “I already met Daddy outside in the hallway and he told me you guys think you’re nearly nine weeks along.”

  Grant followed the doctor inside and Rebekah wanted to scream that there was no “you guys.” There was only her. And why in the hell did everyone who worked here keep calling Grant “Daddy”? The back of her neck prickled every time she heard the presumptuous word.

  But at least he’d gotten the timeline accurate.

  She gulped before answering. “That’s correct.”

  “Okay, let me pull your record up here and take a look before we get down to business.” Dr. Singh logged on to a computer that was mounted on a retractable arm attached to the wall. Rebekah was relieved to note that, despite the Victorian-era waiting room, there were other modern technological advancements—such as an ultrasound machine—back here. “So on the medical history form you completed online, it says you experienced a loss of pregnancy five years ago. Tell me about that.”

  Rebekah’s whole body went numb, as though she was frozen in a state of shock. Her eyes focused straight ahead, yet saw nothing, while her ears picked up every single sound. Including Grant’s sudden indrawn breath. The wheels on the doctor’s stool squeaked as Dr. Singh rolled toward her. “Rebekah? Are you not comfortable talking about this?”

  She drew in a ragged gulp of air and tried not to glance at Grant to see his reaction to what she was about to admit. The paper covering the exam table shifted and crackled underneath her as she attempted to sit up straighter. “I...uh...had an ectopic pregnancy five years ago. The dose of methotrexate they gave me didn’t help...dissolve, uh, anything. So they had to go in laparoscopically to remove the egg from my fallopian tube.”

  “I’m sorry that you went through that.” Dr. Singh laid a small hand over hers and Rebekah stared at it as the initial numbness was pushed away by all the emotions now filling her. The procedure had been significantly less painful physically than it had been emotionally. At the time it happened, she’d told herself that losing the baby was for the best. That she hadn’t been ready to be a mother and didn’t know if she ever would be. It wasn’t until right this second, surrounded by the memories of that past pregnancy, when she realized that she’d never really allowed herself to mourn that loss.

  Using the sleeve of her borrowed cotton gown, she dabbed at the corner of her eye before a tear could spill out. When she finally braved a peek in Grant’s direction, she saw that he was studying the pictures of the dilating cervixes with great interest.

  “Well.” The doctor rose to her feet. “After your past experience, I’m sure you’re eager for me to check you out and give you some good news.”

  Dr. Singh asked routine questions as she performed a pelvic exam and took measurements of Rebekah’s stomach. Grant would occasionally glance over, but mostly he stared at the wall or at the floor as he shifted in his chair and alternated which knee to bounce rapidly. It looked like the guy was seriously regretting his decision to come with her. And it served him right. Had there ever been a less interested father in this situation?

  The doctor pulled a heartbeat monitor out of her pocket and squirted a blob of cold gel onto Rebekah’s stomach. With the handheld machine running over her exposed skin, back and forth, Rebekah squeezed her knees together and her eyes shut, praying that if Grant did decide to finally show some interest, he’d keep his gaze averted to the upper half of her torso.

  Not that he hadn’t seen her without panties before. But this time, it was different. Not only were they currently in a clinical setting with very unflattering lights overhead, there was also a lack of lime-flavored rum to lower her inhibitions.

  The machine whizzed and whirred and the doctor made some murmurs. At one point, a crease formed between the woman’s dark eyebrows. “Hmm. I’m going to use the ultrasound for a better read.”

  Rebekah reminded herself to breathe in through her nose, out through her mouth,
as more cold gel was applied to her belly. The doctor was gentle as she pushed and rotated the probe against Rebekah’s stomach, which was now feeling queasy and doubly nervous.

  Grant must’ve sensed something was wrong, as well, because he had stood up and was silently studying the screen on the ultrasound machine as though he had the training to understand what all those white squiggly lines were against the black background.

  The doctor finally cleared her throat. “Excuse me for a second while I call the nurse.”

  * * *

  Grant had seen the panic written all over Rebekah’s face as the doctor took forever to perform the ultrasound. When Dr. Singh stood up to push an intercom button on the wall, he immediately reached for Rebekah’s hand. She squeezed it tightly, but kept her eyes closed as she continued to take long, steady breaths.

  Spending summers on his aunts’ farm was the closest Grant had ever come to witnessing a birthing experience. He’d thought of picking up a book at the airport bookstore, then told himself to wait until they had more answers. But nothing he’d learned so far had prepared him for hearing about Rebekah’s previous pregnancy. While she’d talked about it, her words were matter-of-fact, but her voice was shaky and he’d glanced away as soon as he saw that first tear well up. He didn’t know if he should offer comfort or if he should pretend he didn’t understand English. It suddenly occurred to him that the reason she’d been reluctant to discuss the pregnancy in the first place was because she wasn’t sure whether or not this one would have the same result.

  He stroked a thumb over her knuckle and when her eyes cracked open, he leaned closer to her ear and whispered, “I’m here for you no matter what.”

  The doctor resumed her place near the ultrasound machine and just when he was about to demand some answers, Dr. Singh smiled and announced, “Congratulations. You’re having twins. Both of the—”

  Grant didn’t hear anything else except a loud bang before he crumpled to the ground.

  Chapter Five

  When Grant came to, Dr. Singh was kneeling beside him and the nurse was checking his pulse. Rebekah was still lying on the exam table, but was now leaning over the side and frowning at him. “So much for being here for me no matter what.”

  He blinked a couple more times before sitting up and rubbing at the bump forming on the back of his skull. “Did I hit my head?”

  “You stepped back so quickly, you knocked into the lamp.” The nurse extended her hand to help him up. “Don’t worry. You’re not the first dad that’s happened to. Come on, big guy.”

  “That’s why I called for the nurse.” Dr. Singh took his other hand as the two medical professionals helped him to his feet. “Once I had a father faint when I told him they were having triplets.”

  “Did you ever have a mother pass out?” Rebekah waved her hand to get their attention. “Because it’s just as startling for the half-dressed person up here on the table with cold, gooey gel everywhere.”

  “Sorry about that.” Dr. Singh smiled as she returned to her actual patient. “So there are two strong heartbeats, both on my monitor and on the ultrasound machine.”

  “And they’re both where they’re supposed to be?” Rebekah asked hesitantly, and Grant made a mental note to research ectopic pregnancy when they left. Right after he researched twins.

  Wow.

  Dr. Singh nodded. “Yes. Your uterus looks great and is measuring a little bigger than what it would be for nine weeks gestation if this was a single embryo, so you’re right on target for twins. Still, I’d like to do some blood work to get an idea of your hormone levels and make sure everything else checks out as normal.”

  Grant’s head throbbed as he tried to keep up with the conversation. “So...you’re sure there are two of them?”

  “Positive. We’ll be able to run more tests later in your pregnancy to determine if they’re fraternal or identical. In about five or six weeks, we may even be able to determine the sex of the babies, if you’re interested in finding out ahead of time.”

  Rebekah’s eyes immediately shot to him and they were filled with shock and possibly even fear. Suddenly they’d gone from having nothing to talk about when it came to this pregnancy to having everything to talk about. Grant gently laid his hand on her shoulder, wanting to ease as much of her stress as he could. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered to her before turning to Dr. Singh. “I think we’re going to need time to let everything sink in.”

  “Of course. I’m sure both of you are feeling overwhelmed right about now and nobody has to make any decisions today. But I’m going to have the nurse put together some reading material for you, and I’d like to schedule a follow-up appointment four weeks from now.”

  Both the doctor and nurse left the room and he and Rebekah sat there with the heavy weight of silence settling between them. Eventually it became apparent that the woman carrying his child—he shook his head, make that children—wasn’t in any hurry to climb down from the exam table.

  Finally he let the air rush out of his lungs in a deep exhaling breath that sounded like a deflating balloon. “So, twins, huh? I bet neither one of us were expecting that.”

  Rebekah shrugged, causing one side of the hospital gown to slip down and expose the very sexy curve of her shoulder. “I wasn’t expecting any of this.”

  “What do you want to do?” he asked, his chest filling with an uncomfortable tension as he awaited her response.

  She looked at the clock on the wall. “I guess I should go back to work.”

  He’d meant what did she want to do about the babies. But she was probably still too shell-shocked to come to any sort of decision right this second.

  “Well, I meant what I said about being here for you. Tell me what you need.”

  “I don’t know what I need just yet.”

  “Fair enough. We’ll take it one step at a time.” He passed her the dress hanging on the back of the door. “Why don’t you get back into your clothes and I’ll wait outside.”

  When she met him in the hallway, she let him lead her to the front desk and even allowed him to schedule the next appointment with Dr. Singh. He asked for her car keys and she passed them to him without protest.

  “Should I drive you back to your place?”

  She shook her head. “No. I think I’ll feel better once I get to the office and throw myself into work. Besides, you need to pick up your car.”

  Grant had grown up surrounded by strong women and his gut told him that Rebekah was only holding herself together because she didn’t want him to witness her inability to stay in control. If he tried to push her right now, she would only close herself up more.

  “Okay, I’ll drive you back to the office, but only on the condition that we stop somewhere along the way and get you something to eat.”

  She didn’t agree so much as she just didn’t protest. In fact, she didn’t say a word after they got into the car and he had a feeling that if she couldn’t manage a conversation in the private confines of her vehicle, there was no way she’d want to step foot in a public restaurant with him. So he went to a drive-through burger place, and when he asked her what she wanted, she stared out the opposite window instead of looking at the menu board. “Whatever is fine.”

  He ordered for them, but she only managed a couple of French fries and a sip of sweet tea as he drove her back to work.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come inside?” he asked when he pulled into the lot at Furever Paws.

  “I’m sure.” Rebekah was normally so capable, so in control. Seeing her like this made Grant nervous, made him want to take a step back. Having worked as a beach lifeguard during college, Grant was accustomed to diving in headfirst at the first sign of danger.

  So when he climbed into his rental car, defeat settled around him because, for the first time in his life, it felt as if he were running away from a challenge.
<
br />   But how did he help someone who didn’t want to be helped?

  * * *

  Twins.

  The word replayed on a constant loop in Rebekah’s head for the next hour. Despite what she’d told Grant about returning to work to clear her head, she’d been staring at the same rabies vaccine invoice since she’d gotten back to her desk.

  There was no way she’d get a single bit of work done this afternoon with her mind and her nerves in such disarray. So far, she’d been able to avoid Bunny and Birdie, but she doubted that she could finish out her work day without running into Grant’s aunts at least once.

  A chorus of barking came from outside her office window and she looked out to see Mollie McFadden, one of their trainers, working with two of their newest arrivals. Salt and Pepper were a bonded pair of Maltipoos that had been surrendered after their owner lost her job and couldn’t afford to take them when she left to move in with her sister, who lived across the country. Seeing them suddenly reminded Rebekah of the scruffy gray dog that had jumped out of her car earlier that morning.

  Standing up, she grabbed her tote bag, along with the grease-stained paper sack that still contained the now-cold burger Grant had insisted on buying for her.

  “I have to go see about an animal,” she told Nancy Frye, the foster coordinator who was covering at the reception desk.

  Nancy was kind enough not to point out that Rebekah rarely interacted with the animals herself. Or maybe Rebekah had just raced by so quickly, Nancy hadn’t gotten the chance to say anything.

  In the parking lot, Richard Jackson, the veterinarian who volunteered at the shelter, lifted his arm in greeting. She managed a quick wave to the older man known as Doc J, but she didn’t have the brainpower to wonder why he was stopping by when the vet clinic was already closed for the afternoon.

 

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