SEAL'd Lips: A Secret Baby Romance
Page 29
“That’s not what I called to tell you, though,” says Janet. “That’s just the prelude to the next part.”
“OK,” I manage to say. “Just tell me. Is it bad news?”
“We’re not sure yet,” says Janet. “What I’m supposed to tell you is that Sarah’s having some potential complications with the pregnancy. And she thought you should know.”
“Of course,” I say. “Of course I should know. I’m glad you called, Janet.”
“OK,” says Janet, not sounding the least bit pleased. I can tell she still heartily disapproves of me.
“What kind of complications?” I say.
“She’s not feeling well,” says Janet. “Some stomach pains and… A slight fever. We’re not sure what it is. So we’re in the emergency room now.”
“OK,” I say. “I’ll be right over.”
“Good,” says Janet.
She tersely tells me which hospital she’s in and then hangs up the phone without even saying goodbye.
Holy shit I’m a father.
I’m a father. I’m going to be a father.
The words run through my head over and over as I sit in a stunned daze at my office desk, the heavy metal music still playing loudly around me.
But there’s not much time to dwell on this amazing fact. Sarah could be in trouble. I just hope she hasn’t gotten some butcher for a doctor. I need to get over there and see if I can use my connections and money to get her the best doctor that they have.
“I’m headed out,” I say to one of the secretaries on the way out, brushing past everyone who tries to talk to me.
I don’t even put on my jacket before stepping into the cold garage below.
There are a couple of my cars here, as well as a few of my motorcycles.
Looking at the cars, I realize that at this time of day, it’s going to take me forever to get over to the hospital during this traffic. The motorcycle might not be the safest, but it’s going to be the fastest, and I need to be responsible…but does being responsible always mean doing the safest thing? I don’t think so, and I walk over to the bike.
I start the bike, not even bothering to put on a helmet, since I don’t have one down here with me. I’m not wearing any protective gear at all, and as I exit the garage, the wind is already cold and I’m not even moving fast yet.
This might be a bad idea, I think to myself, as I shift gears and merge into traffic.
But the cold wind and the potential danger of a crash isn’t enough to deter me from keeping Sarah safe, from making sure our baby is safe.
The thought that Sarah and I aren’t really talking really doesn’t enter my head yet…
Sarah
“It’s going to be OK, Sarah,” says Janet, holding my hand.
“But we haven’t even gotten in to sea the doctor yet,” I say, the annoyance and worry probably unmistakable in my voice.
“I’ll go talk to the secretary,” says Janet, getting up from the uncomfortable emergency room waiting chairs and walking over to the secretary.
I watch as the conversation progresses, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. Since I know Janet, I just hope she’s being vaguely polite.
Janet walks back with her hands in her pockets. “No luck,” she says.
“Did you explain that I’m pregnant?” I say. I always thought emergency rooms would give special preference to pregnant women.
Janet nods her head.
“So John said he was coming?” I say. I realize that I’m holding out hope that John will fix everything, even though we haven’t been talking much. Well, not at all, really. With each passing day since I left that message, I’ve gotten angrier and angrier with him. I still feel angry with him today, but I don’t know what else to go or who to turn to. I’m terrified of losing the baby right now and the hospital staff doesn’t seem to care.
I have every right to be angry with him. He refused to take my calls even when I left him that message telling him that I’m carrying his very own baby. Who the hell does that? It doesn’t sound like John, that’s for sure.
Then I start blaming myself. I start telling myself that it’s all my fault for keeping this a secret from him for so long. But there’s only so much you can beat yourself up before you start looking for other people to blame.
“He said he didn’t get your message about him being the father,” says Janet.
“What?” I say, completely taken aback with surprise.
“You heard me. He didn’t get your message about being the father.”
“Are you sure?” I say.
Janet shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know,” she says. “That’s what he told me anyway.”
Unlike me, I’ve never known John to lie. Not ever. Not even when it’s to his great advantage. So I guess he’s telling the truth.
“So he’s coming over?” I say.
“Yeah,” says Janet.
But an hour goes by and John still isn’t here. I start having all sorts of worries and feeling sick on top of the worries isn’t helping at all. What if John has decided to abandon me and the baby after all? What if he’s had enough of me and just decided to leave me here to rot in the hospital?
Or, even worse (or is it worse, since what’s worse than being abandoned like that?) he’s had some kind of terrible accident on his way here to the hospital. I know how he likes to ride his motorcycles and he fancies himself quite the racer. He actually was a racer, and in his younger years, he actually did compete as a semi pro motorcycle racer. But those days are long behind him and he never talks about them. I wonder if his reflexes are still up to what he now thinks his skill level is.
“This is taking forever,” says Janet, giving me a worried look.
“Hey,” I say. “At least you’re not the one that’s sick.”
“Yeah…” Janet starts speaking but I don’t give her a chance to finish.
Instead, I start vomiting all over the place.
“I’m sorry,” I manage to say, starting to choke a little on my own vomit. I’m gagging and I’ve now got vomit all over my face and the front of my shirt.
Is this my lowest point? In the hospital emergency room, covered in vomit, sick as a stray dog.
If it is, then John picks a hell of a time to show up.
He rushes into the emergency room through the main doors, looking around wildly. He’s wearing a t-shirt that’s torn across the back, as if he was sliced with a large knife. His hair is wild and his eyes shine with fury or worry.
“There you are!” he says, crying out as he sees me.
He rushes up to me and gives me a huge hug before I can do anything.
His strong arms wrap around me and for a moment I completely forget that I’m covered in vomit and that I’m sick and that I don’t know what’s happening with the baby.
“She’s covered in vomit,” cuts in Janet’s voice, and John look surprised and I think for a moment that he’s going to pull away but in the end he just shrugs his shoulders and goes back to hugging me.
“I don’t care that I’m not covered in vomit,” he says. “I didn’t get your message ever. I just heard it from Janet. Honest. I thought it was someone else’s kid. I didn’t know it was mine… You didn’t have to hide it from me. I’m so sorry, baby.”
“I’m the one who’s so sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have ever done that to you, no matter what. I should never have lied to you.”
The last thing I remember is John hugging me tightly and feeling the happiest I’ve felt in a long time. Then I remember feeling very, very sick despite feeling happy. Then my vision went black and I suppose I passed out because the next thing I know I’m lying in a hospital bed with some people in the corner of the room.
“She’s awake,” says someone.
It’s John.
“Hey, baby,” he says, leaning over me and taking my hand. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be all right.”
“I can’t…” but I’m too weak to talk. I can’t ev
en think of what it is I wanted to say.
“Don’t worry, Sarah,” says John, in a soothing voice. “I’ve got one of the best obstetricians in the entire city. He’s going to make sure everything’s OK.”
I squeeze John’s hand as tight as I can but my hand feels too weak to grip it hard. He does the squeezing for me, and squeezes back.
The doctor comes over, his white lab coat flapping as he walks. He’s in his late sixties and has a dignified look about him.
He consults his tablet computer, which I guess is the new clipboard (it’s been a while since I’ve been in a hospital) and nods at me gravely. At this point, because of his demeanor, I’m expecting the absolute worst.
“Good news,” he says. “We’ve run all the lab tests and everything came back normal…”
“Then what’s wrong with me?” I say, growing so frantic that I suddenly have the energy to talk again. But this sentence takes all the energy out of me again and I lie back against the pillow, completely exhausted.
I see Janet in the corner of the room, looking on with a concerned look on her face. She’s on her phone, tapping away, and I know she’s probably relaying the whole thing to my mother, who must be beside herself with worry.
“Yeah,” says John, his voice showing an unusual amount of concern. Normally he sounds so calm no matter what the situation. “What’s going on, doc?”
“The one thing that came back abnormal was her blood sugar,” says the doctor, who’s name, if it was said to me, I’ve already forgotten. “This can be quite common with pregnant women. Especially if they’re working…” He gives me the once over, and I figure he determines quite accurately that I’m a working girl and not some rich girl with an inheritance to live on. “We just have to do one final test to see if that’s the source of the problem.”
“And what’s that going to be?” I say, gathering the strength to speak again. “Is it going to hurt? Is there a cure?”
“Here,” says the doctor, in the gentlest voice imaginable. He holds out a regular banana, already partially peeled.
“What’s this?” says John.
“It’s the test,” says the doctor. “Here, eat the banana, Sara.”
John helps me put the banana to my mouth. Seconds after I’ve taken the first bite, I feel better. My strength is returning!
“Wow,” I say, feeling like I can now talk without a horrendous effort. “Here, give me the rest of that.”
I gobble down the rest of the banana, completely forgetting about any attempt at modesty.
“There’s more where that came from,” says a nurse from the other side of the room. I hadn’t even noticed that she was here in the room with us. She holds out a glass of orange juice and another banana.
“It’d be wise to eat up,” says the doctor. “Babies brains need a lot of glucose when they’re growing. It can sometimes cause the mother’s blood sugar to drop dramatically, causing all sorts of problems like weakness and even temporary blindness. If you eat you may be able to restore your liver’s glycogen stores.”
“You mean like carb loading for a marathon?” I say, having heard the term before, even though I doubt I’ll get within a mile of a marathon race.
“Exactly,” says the doctor, smiling.
”Wow,” I say. “I feel stupid now. All I had to do was eat some more fruit?”
The doctor nods, but adds, “Don’t feel stupid. A lot of women go through this and your friend has been telling me that you’re taking the appropriate prenatal vitamins and have read many book son the subject. But don’t be worried, because sometimes even the experts aren’t aware of how common this condition can be for pregnant women.”
“So I’m really going to be OK?” I say.
“So she’s really going to be OK?” says John.
The doctor nods. “You’re going to be just great. I hope that you’ll let me serve as your birth doctor for the special day.
John looks at me expectedly. “He’s very good,” he says.
“That’d be great,” I say, smiling.
I look down and notice that while I was passed out they must have changed me out of my vomit clothes. I’m glad I’m not covered in vomit right now because John leans in over me and kisses me deeply on the mouth.
I kiss him back and for a moment I completely forget that I’m here in the hospital.
We make out for another thirty seconds until the doctor’s gentle cough reminds us where we are.
“Geeze,” says Janet from the corner. “Get a room you two.”
The nurse tries to stifle a giggle.
“Well, I’ve got to be getting to my next appointment,” says the doctor, politely, coming over and shaking my hand and John’s hand.
“Thanks so much, doc,” says John.
I catch Janet checking out the doctor’s ass as he walks out the room and I giggle.
“Good guy,” says John, to me. “He’s helped me out before.”
“You’ve had a baby before?” I say.
John laughs. “No,” he says. “This will be the first one.”
“Well,” says Janet, coughing slightly herself, apparently worried that John and I are going to start making out again. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll let your mother know that you’re OK, Sarah.”
“Thanks,” I say, winking at her as she leaves the room.
The nurse asks me if I need anything else and exits the room after Janet.
“Just the two of us,” says John, smiling down at me.
“You’re so far away,” I say.
“Is this better?” says John, kicking off his shoes and getting into the bed next to me. He puts his arm around me and I snuggle up into the crook of his arm, turning my belly so that it faces him. He puts his hand on my belly and smiles at me.
“You’re so sexy,” he says, leaning in and kissing me. “I’m so glad you and the baby are OK.”
“Our baby,” I add.
“That’s right,” says John. “I’m so sorry I doubted you. I just didn’t know… It was so unexpected and the tabloid stories were making everything so much more confusing.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I should be the one who’s sorry, not you.”
“Maybe we can both me sorry,” says John.
“That sounds good,” I say. “But I really am very sorry. I should have never deceived you like that. I wouldn’t want someone to do that to me. It’s just that even right from the beginning I was sure something good was going to come from our relationship and I didn’t want to ruin it so early on with something like an unexpected baby…”
“It’s OK,” says John, patting my head gently. “I understand. Who knows, maybe I would have done the same thing if I were you in your position and the roles were reversed.”
I laugh at the thought of John getting pregnant by me.
John laughs too, picking up at what I’m laughing at.
“It’s nice we have a room all to ourselves,” I say. “Rather than just a couple curtains around us to protect us.”
“That’s one of the advantages of having a lot of money,” says John, and I laugh. “You can usually get what you want. Speaking of which, I hope you’ll let me help you with the baby financially. If you want to keep working, that’s fine with me. As long as you take off some time to give birth. You know, at least a couple hours or so.”
I laugh. “Maybe I’ll take the whole day off,” I say. “And of course you’re helping with the finances. Don’t you know how expensive raising kids can be? I can’t possibly afford that on my tiny little salary.”
John kisses me and then pulls away and looks me dead in the eyes.
“There’s something I wanted to tell you,” he says.
“Me first,” I say, gazing back into his eyes, the most beautiful eyes that I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
“Let me go first,” says John. “It’s important.”
“OK,” I say, not breaking eye contact.
“I just wanted to tell you that… I lov
e you,” says John.
My smile is as big as the moon, swinging across my face like the brilliant ocean on a faraway tropical island. I’m happier than I ever have been in my life.
“I love you,” says John, putting a hand on my belly. “And I love our baby. And I want us to be a family.”
“I love you too,” I say.
John leans in and kisses me.
“You want to have sex?” says John.
“You’re certainly direct,” I say.
“That’s how you always are,” says John.
“OK,” I say, rubbing my hand across his crotch. I can feel his massive cock.
“It’s been so long since I felt your cock,” I say, as I start unzipping his fly. I fish around and don’t have any problems finding his massive cock that’s throbbing as I pull it out of his pants.
“I’m really glad now I sprung for the private room,” says John.
“I bet you are,” I say.
“I bet you are too,” says John. “You just can’t keep away from my cock, can you?”
I shake my head. “No,” I say, in a cute little voice. “I can’t. But I know you cant’ stay away from my body either.”
“That’s true,” says John, starting to massage my breasts through my hospital gown. “I’m sure glad they cleaned all that vomit off you.”
“I bet you’d still want to fuck me even if I was covered in vomit.”
“It’s true,” says John, making a face.
“Eww,” I say. “That’s disgusting, John.” I giggle.
“It’s disgusting but true,” says John.
I’ve got my hand wrapped around his cock and now I’m stroking it. My mouth is inching towards his massive cock, and now my tongue is close enough to lick the tip of it.
“Oh God that feels good,” says John.
“Already?” I say. “It doesn’t take much for you, does it?”
“It’s been so long,” says John. “We can’t ever go that long without having sex again.”
“What about when I get really big from the baby?” I say.
“I don’t care,” says John. “You’re probably just going to look even sexier.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m already really, really big. You think I look sexy now?”