Menopause to Matrimony (Fortytude Series Book 2)

by Hickman, Shelly

  “Stop staring at him,” Seth says slowly through his teeth, as if the guy can hear him. He can’t. The windows are up.

  The light turns, and the cop car rolls away.

  Finally, I dart my eyes to Seth. “How old are you?!”

  He nods toward the light. “Anna, it’s green.”

  Putting my foot on the gas, I bring a hand to my chest. “I swear to God, you just about gave me a heart attack.”

  Without warning, Seth bursts into the most uproarious cackle I have ever heard escape from a man. And he can’t stop. It’s a laugh worthy of one of those movie scenes where the camera pans to the car, then the street, then the city, until you’re looking at a view of earth and you can still hear his howling.

  He wipes a tear from his eye. “You should have seen your face!” Then he does a quick imitation of my plastered smile.

  “My face? You looked like an orangutan!”

  He snorts so hard, spit flies onto the dash of my car.

  “Hey!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” He sobers instantly and wipes it with his fingertips.

  “Eww, no. There’s some tissue in the console.”

  Seth promptly grabs some tissues and wipes down the dash. “Sorry,” he repeats sheepishly.

  I just shake my head and smile.

  “You know, Anna, you’re all right.”

  “Does Kiran get stoned with you?” I blurt. Not that I’m looking to judge, but lately I’ve been getting this feeling that maybe I don’t know him as well as I’d like.

  “Kiran? Are you kidding me? He’s way too health conscious for that.”

  “Did he when you guys were young?”

  Seth grimaces. “No! We were just kids when we used to hang out. Besides, I’m five years older than him. I never would have encouraged him to do something like that.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Really,” he says emphatically. Then he purses his lips. “You don’t think much of me, do you?”

  “Don’t be silly,” I answer too quickly. “I barely know you.”

  “It’s all right. It’s my own fault.” He draws up his shoulders. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you privately. Kiran told me you overheard what I said that night at the club.”

  I exhale and look out my window. “Seth, we don’t have to talk about this. In fact, I’d rather not.”

  “Indulge me… Please.”

  Tilting my head, I quirk my mouth on one side. “Okaaaay…”

  “That ignorant remark had nothing to do with you.” He briefly touches my hand, then stares out the windshield. “Kiran was right. I am a little jealous of what he has, and it came out in an ugly way… I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. It wasn’t my intention.”

  When I turn to study him, he’s still gazing ahead as he swallows. “Well, thank you. I appreciate that.”

  He nods without looking at me. “So, we’re good?”

  “We were never bad.” I shrug. “Kiran thinks highly of you, and that’s all I need to know.”

  “Then I guess maybe I am the lucky one.”

  When we get home, I decide to keep tonight’s little marijuana incident to myself. Knowing Kiran, he’ll once again feel the need to apologize for Seth’s behavior.

  FOURTEEN

  Sitting in the waiting room of my OB-GYN, I peruse an article in Ladies’ Home Journal about the benefits of separate bedrooms for married couples. I can’t imagine having a separate bed from Kiran—I’d miss him too much. Although, occasionally he snores and I have to move to another location. And there are nights when our room feels so stuffy, I’m suffocating, due to my wacky body temp issues as of late. It makes me wonder if we may ever have to succumb to separate rooms. I hope not.

  As I flip the page, I come upon an ad for some kind of personal hygiene product. What exactly is it? It looks something like a panty liner, only shaped like a butterfly.

  “One in five women over the age of forty and a similar number of men experience ABL,” it says.

  What the hell is ABL?

  I read on to find out. ABL… ABL…

  Accidental bowel leakage.

  What? I hold the magazine away from my face. One in five women? Surely, it must be caused by certain medical conditions that don’t apply to me.

  Scanning down the ad to find a list of causes, I frantically take them in. Childbirth, prostate therapy, gall bladder removal, advancing age and menopause!

  I fling the magazine shut and toss it onto the table in front of me, and a young woman sitting nearby gives me a strange look.

  Now I’m just pissed. Seriously pissed. I mean, is this really necessary? Since when does reaching your forties mean increased incontinence for number one and number two? I’ve come to accept the problem with number one when I sneeze or laugh, but this is getting out of hand!

  Deciding to turn my thoughts to a more pleasant topic, I pull out my phone and Google “Las Vegas wedding venues.” Aside from a time or two, I haven’t devoted much attention to planning the ceremony. The truth is I’ve been distracted and coming dangerously close to setting a budget and asking Geena to plan the entire thing, if she’s willing. This should be something for me to take great pleasure in. But between needing to get this flooding thing taken care of, all the strangeness going on since Seth arrived, and figuring out how I can best support Carly if and when the time comes, I’m feeling pretty scattered.

  “Anna?” a nurse calls after emerging from the back.

  I follow her to one of the exam rooms where she takes my weight and blood pressure. I hate doctors’ scales. For some reason, I always weigh considerably more on them than the one at home.

  She pulls out a paper cover-up from the cabinet above the sink and hands it to me.

  “Oh,” I say. “I’m not due for an exam. I just want to talk to the doctor about uterine ablation.”

  “I know. She will still require an exam, though, so go ahead and undress from the waist down.”

  My shoulders sag. I was afraid of this. Thankfully, I made sure to “freshen up” just in case.

  Once she leaves the room, I sigh heavily and undress. Then I prop myself back up onto the exam table and wait with my feet dangling to the floor. I do not put them in the stirrups until absolutely necessary.

  It’s always such a long, boring wait. I never know if I should bother taking out my phone or grab a magazine, because it’s not like you can just cast them aside once the doctor comes in. You have to get off the table, put the thing back where you got it while holding the paper wrap around your waist, etc., etc. Or try to reach way over to set it on the chair that sits by the head of the table. So I just sit and listen for her arrival.

  I’ve been seeing Dr. Mallory since I was eighteen and every time I speak to her, she is bright and positive and bubbly. As I wait, I can hear her greet each of her patients when she enters a room. “Why hello, beautiful! How are you?”

  With my feet still hanging below, I lie back on the table and stare at the ceiling, placing my hands over my stomach. I may have actually dozed off when she finally enters my room.

  “Hello, Anna! It’s good to see you,” she sings.

  I sit up and smile. “Good to see you, too.”

  “How are things? How’s the family?” Taking my chart, she glances through my records. This woman never seems to age, and she’s one of those people who can easily get away with no makeup. With her straight black hair pulled back in a ponytail, she gives me a gorgeous smile.

  “Things are good, thanks. Everyone is well.”

  “Wonderful! Well, I see you’re here to talk about ablation. Still suffering from the heavy periods?”

  I roll my eyes. “You have no idea.”

  After asking me all the usual questions about my health, she says, “All right, go ahead, lie back. We’ll need a current pap to make sure everything is otherwise healthy to move forward with the procedure.”

  Scooting my rear down to the edge of the table, I place my feet in the drea
ded stirrups.

  “Do you have any questions or concerns about ablation?”

  It’s always kind of comical how gynecologists can be fishing around your innards and yet carry on a conversation like you’re sitting down for coffee.

  “Actually, yes. I started doing a little research, but didn’t follow through with it. What’s this risk of post ablation tubal… something or other? I don’t remember what it was called. Something to do with having had a tubal ligation?”

  “Post ablation tubal sterilization syndrome.”

  “Yeah, that was it.”

  She remains silent for a few moments, I guess concentrating on my examination, then she rolls back on her stool toward the sink to do whatever it is she does with my specimen. “Everything seems fine. No fibroids or growths of any kind that I can detect. You can sit up, lovely.” Pulling off and disposing of her gloves, she continues. “The syndrome is one of the rare complications of ablation. It’s when blood gets trapped in the fallopian tubes, the uterus, or both. The majority of the time it results in hysterectomy. But we’ll first make sure your pap is clear, and you’ll also need to have a transvaginal ultrasound to make sure you’re a good candidate.”

  Disappointment washes over me. Yes, the possible complications are extremely scary, but one can never focus on all those scary things. If a woman ever read the paperwork she’s required to sign at the hospital when delivering a baby before getting pregnant, she’d never have children. I just really want to get rid of these horrible periods.

  My thoughts must show on my face because Dr. Mallory says, “Don’t worry. If it turns out you’re not, we can discuss some of the other options I mentioned when you came last time.”

  None of those options were of any interest to me, but I guess we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. “There was one other thing I wanted to ask you about while I’m here. Lately, my hands and feet have been getting really hot, especially at night. I don’t think I’m having hot flashes, exactly…”

  “When you say hot, does it feel like a burning? Or just hot?”

  “Just hot. Like my hands and feet are out in 115 degree weather.”

  “Hmmm. Are you taking any supplements?”

  “Just a multivitamin. Oh, and B complex because my hair’s been falling out.”

  She scowls. “Could be the B vitamins. Niacin can cause flushing, warmth, or tingling of the skin.”

  “What?” I ask with exasperation. “So you’re saying I have to either lose the heat or lose my hair?”

  “Sorry, honey. Assuming that’s the problem. Try going off of them and see if you notice any difference. Have you considered Rogaine?”

  Why does it feel like I’ve just been punched in the stomach? I wrinkle my nose and shake my head, and she gives me a smirk.

  “Is there anything else?”

  Lowering my head, I frown. “No. That was it.”

  “All right. Jenny up front will give you the paperwork you’ll need for your ultrasound. If everything looks good, she’ll call you to schedule the procedure.”

  ***

  Coming home to an empty house, Trixie is especially excited and bounces off me repeatedly like I’m a vertical trampoline. “Trixie, down!” She forces me to ignore her when first getting home because if I talk to her, she’s so out of control. Ramming into me and slapping me with her tail, she’ll even nip my fingers with little love bites when I try to pet her, so I just have to go on about my business until she calms down.

  After pulling a bottle of Angry Orchard cider from the refrigerator and opening it, I finally bend over to say hello. “Were you a good girl today? Hmm?” Trixie happily wiggles her butt. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

  We step into the backyard so she can do her business, and it feels even hotter out here due to the humidity coming off the lake. As I approach the water, someone putters by in a small boat and waves. I smile and wave back. After a few minutes, I’ve had more than enough standing out in the summer heat. “Trixie, time to go in.”

  When I come inside, Ahsan and Geena are just getting home.

  “Anna,” Ahsan says excitedly. “We just came from the house and we have some good news from the contractor. They should be wrapping up our remodel this week, so we’ll soon be out of your hair.”

  An ache settles in my chest that takes me by surprise. “Really? Already? And you have not been in our hair!”

  “That’s sweet of you,” Geena says as she scratches Trixie on top of the head. “But you know we have.” She gazes at me and frowns. “Are you okay, dear?”

  “Of course. It’s just I’m really gonna miss you guys. The house will feel so empty.” Following them to the kitchen where they sit down, I grab myself another cider.

  “You still have Seth and any guests he may invite,” Ahsan says. I know what that remark was in reference to, but Geena looks at him quizzically. Apparently, he never mentioned the night Seth brought Marie home.

  “I bet you’re both excited to get back in your own place.” Why do I feel so emotional? When my mother stayed with Luke and me to help out a few days after Hayden was born, I had the same feeling when she left. And that was before my parents moved to San Diego. At the time, they lived a few blocks away. Looking back, I think it was just my fear that I would have no idea how to take care of Hayden on my own.

  But this? What is this all about?

  “We’d like to take you and Kiran to dinner tonight as a thank you for letting us stay,” Ahsan says.

  “Oh, that’s not necessary.” There’s seriously something going on with me today because I’m on the verge of tears. I force myself to engage in a few more minutes of polite conversation before excusing myself to go upstairs to shower.

  Feeling a little better after I bathe, I put on my robe and emerge from the bathroom to find Kiran on the bed watching TV. “Hey, angel.”

  “Hey.” I walk over to give him a kiss, then travel to my side of the bed where I left my bottle of cider on the night table. “Did your parents tell you their house is almost finished?”

  “Yes. Mother is pretty pleased. She said they did a great job.”

  I smile and nod before taking a sip of my drink.

  “You look like you didn’t have such a good day. I got something for you that may cheer you up.” He rises and picks up a gift bag I hadn’t noticed from the dresser and sits on the edge of the bed.

  “That’s so sweet!”

  Pulling out a clear plastic package that has some bulky looking slippers inside, I purse my lips. “What kind of slippers are these?” And why would he get me slippers in the middle of summer, when my feet have already been burning up?

  “They’re cold therapy booties.” He unzips the package and takes them out. Then he removes a gel pack from one of them. “You put the gel in the freezer, and when your feet are hot, just put the packs into the booties and wear them to cool your feet. I thought you could sleep in them and you wouldn’t have to keep kicking the covers off.”

  What a great idea! However, they’re far from attractive, almost resembling some kind of orthopedic wraps, and suddenly I burst into tears. “Thank you! It was so thoughtful of you to find something like this for me.”

  Kiran ducks his head to look into my face and smiles awkwardly. “You’re welcome. I wasn’t expecting such a dramatic reaction to a pair of slippers.” He lightly places his hand on my arm. “Did your appointment not go the way you wanted today?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, throwing up my hands. “I have to get a couple more tests to make sure it’s safe for me to have ablation. I’m just going to be so disappointed if I have to keep dealing with these awful periods. I mean, what if I can’t have this done and I get my period on our honeymoon? It’ll ruin everything… I’m sorry for being so pathetic.”

  He goes back to his side of the bed and leans against the headboard. Then he holds out his arm for me sit beside him. Sniffling to keep my nose from dripping, I accept his invitation. “What else? I can tell there’s mor
e,” he says.

  “Like you said…” I sigh. “It just wasn’t a good day. When I asked her about my hot hands and feet, she said it’s probably from the B vitamins I’ve been taking for my hair loss. So I need to stop taking them and see. She asked me if I’ve considered Rogaine. Rogaine!” My voice squeaks. “I’m not balding. My hair just comes out in clumps. You’ve seen it all over the bathroom, but I won’t use Rogaine. A woman in that menopause group tried it, and it dripped onto her face while she slept, giving her facial hair!”

  Kiran silently reaches across me for my cider and hands it to me.

  “Thank you.” I take a swig. “And then I came across this God awful magazine ad in the waiting room about this ABL affecting one in five women over forty.”

  “ABL?”

  “Accidental… bowel… leakage!” I say, emphasizing each word.

  “Oh no…” He tries to keep from smiling.

  “I wouldn’t be so quick to find it funny. It said just as many men your age are affected. It actually made me angry!”

  He simply draws in his lips and closes his eyes, making every effort to remain neutral.

  “I’m worried about Claire, your parents are leaving and I’m gonna miss them,” I croak. “And now I have to wear those damn ugly slippers just so I can sleep!”

  Kiran pulls me into him as I start bawling all over again.

  “No offense. It really was a sweet gift and I’m sure I’ll love them.”

  “None taken,” he says gently.

  Straightening, I wipe my face with the sleeves of my robe. “I am so, so sorry for wacking out on you like this. You must be scared shitless right now, thinking, Here we go. On the road to crazy town.” Honestly, I’m thinking the same thing.

  “C’mon. You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “Okay. Maybe…” After taking a deep breath to collect myself and finishing the last of my drink, I place my hand over his and look him in the eye. “I just wanna know… are you doing okay? Is everything okay in your world?”

  He draws his head back a bit. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  “I just worry about you since you had the heart attack.”