The Doctor's Pregnancy Bombshell

by Janice Lynn

  Frustration washed over Melissa. She didn’t want to argue with him. Didn’t really have the energy to do so, although she’d never admit that to him.

  “James, I know you’re trying to help,” she sighed, “but Cindy is my patient. I’m doing what I believe is best for her and her family.”

  “What about what’s best for you and your family? Is working yourself to the bone, not getting any rest—is that what’s best for you? For our baby?”

  “I…” Melissa stopped, unable to go on. James was right. She glanced up, ready to concede his point.

  The anger on his face melted into concern, and he raked his fingers through his hair. Hair that, she noticed, had been trimmed to its normal neat style since her ultrasound.

  Two in the morning and he looked fabulous in his navy scrubs. Like he’d walked straight off some television show about doctors. Like he was the sexy star that made women tune in week after week for another drool-worthy episode.

  “Go.” He motioned to the comfy leather sofa that was pushed up against her office wall. “Lie down and sleep.”

  “I can’t.” She shook her head. “Cindy.”

  He sighed. “I’ll keep an eye on her. You sleep.”

  She wanted to argue, but fatigue and the steely look in his eyes held her tongue. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” His tone softened. “One of us has to look out for our child and you’re too stubborn to take care of yourself, much less our baby. Get some rest, even if it’s just a short nap. I’ll watch over the girl.”

  A short nap. Just a few more minutes of sleep. Because she was sleepy. Exhausted. When she’d rested a bit, she’d tell him that she was taking care of their baby, taking her vitamins, and forcing down three meals a day.

  “I’m not that tired.” Melissa yawned, giving herself away.

  “Lie down,” he ordered. “Now, before I make you.”

  Under different circumstances James making her to lie down could have been a fun experience. Now he was too reserved, too serious, too not hers anymore.

  Just a short nap. That’s all she needed. Then she’d have the energy to deal with him.

  She lay down on the sofa and covered herself with the afghan Norma Prater had crocheted after Melissa diagnosed her granddaughter’s appendicitis mere hours before the appendix would have ruptured. Melissa had arranged for Dr Arnold to see the girl that same morning and he’d done an emergency appendectomy just in the nick of time.

  According to Norma, Dr Arnold had said the girl would have died, or at least been critically ill, if Melissa hadn’t acted so quickly.

  She loved her job. Taking care of others came naturally, made her feel alive, gave her purpose, and made her feel needed.

  James was right when he’d said she needed to be needed. She did. Perhaps it came from feeling like an unwanted fifth wheel during her childhood.

  Treating her like a kid, James tucked the blanket Norma had made with love around her. His touch firm, yet gentle. Easily, she could picture him doing the same for their baby.

  James would be a good father.

  She hugged the blanket to her, letting its softness wrap her in coziness. Or maybe the coziness came from knowing James stood close.

  “Cindy’s chart is on my desk if you need it.” She yawned again, her insides feeling warmer than they had in weeks. “You’ll wake me if she needs me?”

  Watching her curl up on the sofa, he nodded. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Good night, Melissa.”

  Melissa closed her eyes. “Good night, James.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MELISSA became aware of her surroundings in slow steps. The first thing to strike her was the pain in her lower back.

  She went to stretch and realized she wasn’t in her bed at her house. She was on the sofa in her office.

  James was there, looking after Cindy.

  She opened her eyes, squinted to make out her watch hands. Ten o’clock? No way.

  Ignoring her protesting muscles, she sat up.

  Why hadn’t James woken her up?

  She glanced at the drawn window shades. Shades she always kept open. The sunlight would have woken her. Which probably answered her question of why he’d drawn them to begin with.

  Now she would be more behind than ever.

  Dizziness washed over her the moment she stood up. When was this horrible sick feeling ever going to pass?

  She made the necessary trip to the private bathroom in her office. After she finished business and brushing her teeth, she splashed water on her face.

  She’d slept better than she had in weeks. But now she had patients who’d been waiting all morning. Plus, Cindy’s IV would need to be changed.

  James would be long gone as he had classes today. Why had he made the drive last night? Arrived at her office in the dead of night? Put her to bed, well, sofa?

  Or had she been so exhausted she’d dreamed the whole thing?

  No, if she’d been dreaming, James would have taken her into his arms and begged her to forgive his stupidity for leaving and her stupidity for letting him go, and of course he’d want their baby. Yeah, that was definitely dream stuff.

  Last night he’d been angry.

  Except she’d swear she remembered him brushing her hair away from her face right as she’d drifted off to sleep. That his warm lips had brushed her temple and he’d mumbled something under his breath.

  She’d likely dreamed the whole thing.

  She changed into fresh scrubs, pulled her hair back in a neat ponytail, and went to face the drama of having overslept on a busy Thursday morning.

  She immediately bumped into Debbie. The nurse averted her gaze and seemed to be hiding a smile. A guilty smile.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  Still not making eye contact, Debbie threw her hands up. “Hey, I had strict orders that you were not to be disturbed, no matter what.”

  Strict orders? “From who?”

  “The tooth fairy.” Debbie quipped. “Who do you think?”

  “James?”

  “James.”

  James had been there and stuck around until Debbie had arrived. Which meant she hadn’t dreamed last night. He had kissed her forehead. Why? And what was it he’d said? Even fully awake, she couldn’t decipher his mumbled words.

  “What’s that smile for?” Debbie smirked and Melissa instantly flattened her expression.

  “Nothing,” she assured her. What was she thinking, smiling in front of Debbie? Her friend would gnaw on that like a dog on a bone.

  “Yeah, right.” Debbie’s brown eyes rolled toward the ceiling.

  Melissa started to respond, then remembered Cindy. “How’s Cindy this morning? I should go check her. Did James change her IV bag before leaving this morning?”

  “Her bag is changed, and she’s much better.” James spoke from behind her, causing Melissa to spin toward him. She almost lost her balance, but recovered so quickly she didn’t think anyone noticed her lapse.

  “I’m going to discharge her home,” James continued.

  Discharge her? Was he making fun that she’d treated her office like a hospital?

  Melissa eyed him suspiciously. “I thought you’d left.”

  “I heard,” he commented dryly, his gaze traveling over her in a slow perusal.

  She fought the need to fidget under his assessing stare. What was he planning to do, write a thesis on her midmorning appearance?

  “I’ve got the urinalysis back on John Brown.” Debbie waved the chart she held, reminding them that she was there and privy to their conversation.

  “Thanks, Debbie,” Melissa automatically replied, wondering what was wrong with John Brown.

  “I think she was talking to me.” James smiled wryly, taking the chart and flipping to the lab section.

  Melissa’s mouth dropped. Her nurse just gave a shrug and, suppressing a smile, returned to the nurses’ station.

  “You’ve been seeing my patients?”

  “Y
es,” he answered, so nonchalantly one could almost believe it was no big deal. She knew better.

  “I’m not sure my malpractice insurance covers you.” Why she said something so corny she didn’t know, but the prickly words came out of her mouth.

  His lips twisted. “You may recall that I have my own malpractice insurance.”

  Unsure what to say and not wanting to come out with something as inane as before, Melissa glanced around the hallway. Her gaze landed on a diabetes poster. She focused on the diagram of the pancreas without really seeing the insulin-producing organ.

  “Don’t you have class today?” she asked, when the silence had dragged on too long.

  He nodded. “I teach on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I asked a friend to cover my class this morning.”

  “Why?” She asked the obvious question.

  He shrugged, again playing nonchalance to the max. “Because there are more important things than my work.”

  An answer that could have a thousand meanings and each and every one ran through Melissa’s befuddled head. He’d come because she’d needed him. Somehow he’d known.

  Although she would have made it with Cindy, having James there eased the strain on her body. Despite her initial stiffness, she felt better than she had in weeks.

  He closed the chart and glanced away, seeming to think about what he wanted to say before speaking. “Look, I’ve got things under control. Go home, take a shower, read a book, whatever you want to do. Just rest.”

  Go home? Was he joking? “I can’t.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? You can. I’ll take care of everything here.”

  “You can’t.”

  His brow lifted. “Are you saying you’re a better doctor than I am?”

  Melissa opened her mouth, then closed it. What could she say? That she thought she cared for her patients more than he did? That he treated the medical problem rather than the person as a whole? That he remained too detached to provide what her patients needed?

  “Go back to Nashville, James. I’m not leaving my patients.”

  He swore loud enough and with enough fury that Melissa was surprised no one came to check on her. He spun round, paced across the hall, turned, and met her gaze. Steely determination shone in his blue eyes. “I’m staying.”

  His entire demeanor said nothing she did would make him budge.

  “Fine.” She glanced at the chart in his hands, tugged it free. “Suit yourself. I’m going to check on John Brown.”

  His jaw flexing, James took the chart from her before she’d even taken two steps. “Mr Brown is expecting me to finish seeing him. Go find your own patient.”

  Knowing James was in the same building was driving Melissa crazy. Almost noon and she’d only seen a handful of patients. James had breezed through the morning, seeing patient after patient with a speed that drove her bonkers. How could he be meeting their needs when he barely spent any time with them? It wasn’t like he knew anything about them. Things like John Brown’s brother was diagnosed with prostate cancer a month ago and that John worried his prostate was a ticking time bomb.

  With each passing minute her antagonism toward James grew. She admitted her anger bordered on the irrational, but she wanted to lash out at him and knew before the day ended they’d have words.

  “Melissa?” Debbie interrupted her thoughts.

  Melissa glanced up from the chart she was writing in and glared at her traitorous friend.

  “I hate to bother you, but James’s doing a department of transportation physical on Luke Robison.” Debbie ignored the visual daggers zooming her way. “I just put Bob Woods in room two. His stomach is hurting, and he says it’s pretty bad. I’ve got a urinalysis and a complete blood count going on him. Do you want any other tests?”

  “Let me check him first. I’ll be right there.” She put her pen in her scrubs pocket, then leered at her nurse. “Unless you’d rather wait on James?”

  “Well, if he hadn’t just started,” Debbie mused, with sarcasm only a real friend could get away with, “I would. You’ll have to do.”

  “Hi, Bob, what’s going on?” Melissa asked the fifty-nine-year-old when she entered the exam room.

  Bob paced back and forth. “Something bad, Doc. My insides feel like Dana Higgins’s mule trampled them.”

  “When did the pain start?”

  “I hurt a little last night, but this morning the pain done gone and got bad on me.”

  “Have you seen any blood in your urine?”

  “Ain’t paid no attention to that, Doc.”

  “Any diarrhea or constipation?”

  “I’m like clockwork after dinner.”

  Melissa asked a few more questions, made notes in the chart. “Have a seat,” she told the still pacing man, “and I’ll check you.”

  Having him take off his shirt first, which he did with several grunts and moans, she listened to Bob’s heart and lungs. Nothing abnormal. She motioned for him to lie back on the table, and for a moment she didn’t think he was going to comply, but, grimacing, he slowly lowered himself.

  “Show me where you hurt,” she ordered. He pointed to his right lower quadrant, close to the midline. “That’s an appendectomy scar, isn’t it?”

  “Had my appendix out when I was fourteen,” he confirmed.

  “Have you ever had a kidney stone?” From the amount of pain he was in, she suspected that might be the culprit.

  “A few years ago. You think this is another one?” He winced. “I hurt up higher with the last one. More in my back.”

  Melissa listened to his abdomen, but everything sounded normal. She went to lightly palpate it, but Bob’s hand covered hers.

  “I don’t think I can let you do that.”

  “I have to check you. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

  Swallowing, Bob nodded, closed his eyes and visibly braced himself for expected pain. Melissa’s sense of unease grew.

  She gently checked him, but his guarding prevented her from feeling confident in her exam.

  “Bob, I’m going to do an X-ray of your abdomen as I can run that here at the office. Depending on that and what the tests Debbie ran show, I will likely send you to Dekalb General for a CT scan of your abdomen and pelvis.”

  Melissa stepped out of the room and went into the small lab where Debbie and the lab technician stood.

  “He’s got four plus blood in his urine. Think it’s a kidney stone?” Debbie asked.

  “His blood count is normal,” Stacey, the lab technician, who was also certified as an X-ray technician, said. “And everything else on his urinalysis is normal.”

  Which would make one think Bob had a kidney stone.

  “I’d like an abdominal and pelvic X-ray. Maybe the stone will show. Come get me when it’s done.”

  Melissa went back to her desk to do some paperwork while she waited.

  A few minutes later Debbie stuck her head in the doorway. “X-ray’s ready. He has a stone on the right.”

  Relief washed over Melissa. She would order some strong pain medication for Bob, have him drink plenty of fluids, and send him for a CT scan this afternoon.

  But when she looked at the X-ray, she frowned. The stone was too high. Other than a lot of gas in the intestines, probably from his pain, she didn’t see anything else abnormal.

  “I’m finished with my last patient for the morning.” James walked up behind her to look over her shoulder at the X-ray light box. “Debbie said you needed help.”

  “She lied.”

  “Admit it. This morning went a lot smoother with me here.”

  “I’d have managed.” She refused to admit anything. She stared at Bob’s X-ray, trying to ignore the man behind her. Difficult to do when her five senses went into overdrive at his nearness.

  “No doubt. No matter if it compromises your health. Or our baby’s.”

  “Our baby is fine.”

  “For the moment, but you’
re determined to do everything you can to change that, aren’t you?”

  She spun, glared at him. “You have no right to come in here and say anything to me.” She spat the words out, shaking with emotion. “I didn’t get pregnant on purpose, but I want our baby and am glad I’m pregnant. You’re the one who’s probably hoping I’ll miscarry so you won’t have to deal with a baby and can be done with me for good.”

  She winced the moment the words left her mouth. She knew they weren’t true, that James would never wish her to miscarry, regardless of how he felt about having a baby. Feelings that she felt certain had softened on the day of her ultrasound.

  He paled, grabbed her arms, and pulled her to him. Never had she felt such anger course through him, seen his eyes darken to the stormy shade of blue glaring at her. And the worst part was that she deserved his anger.

  Debbie poked her head into the room. “Bob is asking for you, Melissa. His pain is worse.”

  Oh, God. How could she have forgotten she still had a patient? A very sick one at that.

  James’s hold on her arm tightened. “We’re not finished.”

  “It’ll have to wait.”

  “I grew tired of waiting for you months ago.”

  Her gaze shot to his. “Fine. Let me go.”

  His lips thinned to a white line, but his fingers loosened. “Go, but I’m not leaving. We’re going to finish this conversation.”

  Melissa ran from the room and into Bob’s exam room. Sure enough, he was doubled over. His forehead glistened with sweat, and he held his abdomen much lower than where the stone resided.

  Referred pain? Some people did experience pain in places other than where the actual problem was, but her gut instinct said that wasn’t the case.

  “The pain’s worse?”

  “I’m dying.”

  Melissa made a fast decision. She couldn’t convince herself that a kidney stone was causing his pain. “I’m going to call for an ambulance to take you to Dekalb. I’ll send you through the emergency room for testing.”

  She expected the older man to argue, but he nodded, further upping her suspicions. She turned, planning to call for the ambulance, and practically bumped into James, who carried the X-ray film.

  “Melissa, take another look at this. There’s a shadow. I’m not sure it’s anything, but have a look.” James held the film up, letting the ceiling light illuminate the film. “Right there.”