by Simply BWWM
Chapter14
Charity sat nervously in the passenger seat of the Porsche, staring out the window as Lincoln carefully guided the car down the road that led from the cabin to the highway.
“You don’t have to take me to the doctor,” she said. “I promise, I’m okay.”
“I believe you,” he said. “But I have a few things I need to do in town, and there’s no use wasting the trip. I’ll drop you off at the medical center and you can text me when you’re done. It’s really no problem.”
She sighed inwardly but remained stoic. At least my doctor is in a medical building attached to the hospital, she thought. It wasn’t like she was going to walk into a private building that all but shouted that the only people that went there were pregnant. As far as he knew, she could be going there for anything from insulin to a birth control shot that would render her infertile for four months.
She just needed to calm down and accept that Lincoln really wasn’t worried about where she was going. The more she harped on it, the more likely he would become suspicious.
Leaning her head against the window, she let her mind wander, retrieving and discarding memories from the past few months without any rhyme or reason until her mind stopped on a painful one that made her cringe.
The shot would have been a good thing if George had let her control any part of her life, but more than once, she’d gone to open a new pack of birth control pills to find that each individual pill had been removed from the blister pack, probably dumped down the drain.
She closed her eyes against the memory of that fight, where George had been so convincing that she walked away believing that she had accidentally put a used pack in the cupboard instead of the trash. When she’d looked at her supply, she erroneously thought that she had another month left because of her “mistake”. Her eyes were still closed as she bit her lip against the embarrassment she still felt for letting him make her believe that she was really that careless.
He’d done it more than once, and the last time she’d caught him, he’d destroyed a six-month supply of pills. She’d argued with him, but in the end, he’d torn her down until she felt like the aggressor and he was the victim.
“You know you can talk to me about things that happened when you were with him,” Lincoln said quietly from his seat.
When she opened her eyes, she saw the Seattle skyline through her unshed tears and was surprised by how far they’d gone without speaking a single word to each other.
“How did you know?” she asked, her voice catching on the last word.
“You get this look,” he said. “It’s hard to explain. Anger. Regret. Embarrassment. Fear. Loathing. How you roll all those things into one and still manage to look so vulnerable that I want to whisk you away from the cruel world to protect you is beyond me. You only get that way when you’re thinking about him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Don’t ever be sorry for that. He was a monster, and it’s going to be a long time before you can put those memories to bed. Dealing with them is better than the alternative.”
There was something heavy in his voice that made her reach out to him instinctively. He took her hand, his other hand gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white.
“You’ve shared what happened with your mom,” she said quietly, bringing his hand to her lips and kissing it. “Thinking back on all that I’ve been through, I’m so glad that I didn’t have a young child watching me go through that. I can’t imagine how confusing that must have been for you.”
“I learned to deal with it,” he said. “And I learned to deal with the fact that there was no way I could have helped her no matter how much I wanted to. Before I was old enough to do anything to help her, she was gone.”
“I’m not going to ask unless you want to talk about—”
“She killed herself,” Lincoln said suddenly. “She couldn’t take it anymore, so she killed herself.”
Charity’s mouth dropped open and tears spilled over her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m sure that was hard.”
His smile was sad.
“Actually, my father treated me like a prince. He still controlled so much of my life, but it was different with her. In some ways, I was relieved that he wouldn’t hurt her anymore, but at the same time…” he stopped, sucking in a quick breath.
“I get it,” she said. “That’s a lot for a young child to deal with. I’m sure you felt a lot of things that you weren’t proud of at the time.”
“You’re right, but I understand a lot of it now. And I understand why I had to risk my life to save yours when I saw you on that cliff.” He looked at her. “I’d do anything to keep you from going through that again.”
“I know,” she said.
“While we’re in town, we should talk to the lawyer. It’s better if we stay on top of things while the Wittmans are biding their time.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I guess I would just rather bury my head in the sand and forget that there’s anything hanging over our heads.”
“Wouldn’t we all,” he said wryly.
He pulled off the interstate and navigated the roads bustling with traffic until he pulled up in front of the University Medical Center, stopping at the front walkway and putting the car in park.
“Text me when you’re done, and I’ll stop what I’m doing and come get you. We’ll go to the lawyer after that, then head home.”
Home, she thought wistfully. If only it could be home forever.
“What if you’re not done?”
“Nothing I have to do today is urgent,” he said. “I’ll finish what I can and the rest can wait.”
“Okay. I’ll text you as soon as I’m done.”
She hurried up the walkway, waving to him once before going through the glass double doors and into the large waiting room that served the entire practice.
She went to the receptionist’s desk and checked in.
“There’s an opening now since you’re early,” the woman said cheerfully. “Or you can wait if you have someone accompanying you?”
“I’m alone today,” she said. “I’ll take the earlier appointment.”
The woman smiled warmly and nodded, buzzing the door to her doctor’s office open with one hand while she made the changes in the computer with the other.
Charity walked through the sterile corridor, startling when a nurse appeared out of nowhere with a PDA in her hand and a wide, brilliant smile on her face.
“You must be Charity,” she said, leading her down the hall and to a room that was even colder than the hallway.
The nurse ran through the standard questions, then drew a quick blood sample and disappeared out of the room. Charity settled onto the bed, lying back and staring up at the ceiling. The air conditioner kicked on with a loud shudder, and she secretly wished it would die already.
“I’m surprised I can’t see my breath,” she muttered.
“Me too,” a cheerful voice said from the door behind her shoulder. “Sorry I startled you. I was in my office, so I used the stealth door.”
Charity couldn’t help but laugh at how the woman said “stealth door”. She’d been Charity’s doctor for a long time, but Charity still couldn’t get over how odd she was. Doctor Sowers seemed better suited to working with children than adults. She was bouncy and energetic and way too happy to be at work. There was definitely nothing sour about her.
“You’re too much,” Charity said, still laughing.
“Did the nurse draw blood already?” she asked as she went over Charity’s chart.
“She did.”
“Well, let’s not wait for her. If you are, you’ll be far enough along that we’ll be able to see something on the ultrasound.”
“I haven’t felt sick or anything,” Charity offered.
“Tired?”
“Yes, but I’ve been stressed.”
“Well, let’s see if there’s another reason for that ex
haustion.”
Doctor Sowers lifted her shirt, pressing a wand to her abdomen and moving it around while she stared at a computer screen.
“There we are,” she said with a huge smile. “See that little flicker right there?”
Charity did, but she still stared at it, dumbfounded.
“That’s a healthy, strong little heart. You’re about nine, almost ten weeks, so if you haven’t felt sick yet, you’re probably not going to.”
“I’m pregnant?” she stuttered.
“Yes, you are,” the doctor confirmed with a soft smile. “Do you need a moment? I can leave the room, or I can call someone.”
Charity shook her head, forcing a smile.
“No, I’m fine. Really. I’m just shocked is all.”
“We get that a lot. You can call any time with questions, but for now, let’s get you started on some prenatal vitamins, and I’ll have the receptionist set all your appointments.”
“All of them?”
“Oh yes. You and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other over the next thirty or so weeks.”
“Thirty weeks,” she repeated, her voice soft.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Are we done here?”
The doctor nodded, printing out a copy of the ultrasound screen complete with an arrow pointing to the tiny little blob on the screen with the word “baby!!!!!!!!” in big, bold letters next to an arrow.
Charity thanked the doctor and left the room, going straight down the hall and out into the lobby without stopping to see the nurse about her next appointments. She made a beeline for the bathroom in the common area, hurrying to the last stall and locking herself in.
Putting the lid down on the toilet, she sat, buried her head in her hands, and burst into tears, shoulders shaking as painful sobs tore through her body. She’d always wanted to be a mother, but this was a disaster. She was carrying George’s child, who had died because another man had saved her life. And now she was in love with that man.
It was all a mess.
In the back of her mind she’d known that she was pregnant, but she’d still hoped it was stress that had thrown her body out of whack. The chance of being pregnant was the only reason she’d tried to make nice with George, hoping that they could forge a friendship before she started showing and was forced to tell him. But that had gone horribly wrong, and now she was alone in a bathroom, crying her eyes out over news that would have elated her in any other situation.
She was stepping out of the stall when the door to the bathroom opened and the nurse breezed in, arms full. Charity almost turned and went back into the stall, but the nurse stopped her with a look.
“I brought supplies,” she said, setting a box of tissues on the counter, then placing a brown paper bag on top of that. “The bag has the vitamins you’ll need to take twice a day, and the tissues, well, they’re tissues.”
She trailed off, looking sheepish at her failed attempt at humor. Charity laughed despite the tears that tugged at her skin as they dried.
“I’m sorry. You must think I’m a mess.”
“Pregnant women have a lot going on. I’ve seen things you couldn’t imagine. You’re definitely not even close to the worst reaction.”
“Are you sure?”
The nurse leaned in as if she was sharing something so juicy she couldn’t contain herself.
“I once had to tell a woman who was told she’d never get pregnant that she was carrying identical triplets. She was sure that her thyroid was out of whack and that her weight gain and the movement could be explained a million ways. When those little babies popped up on the screen, I thought she’d never get her mouth closed. Her husband fainted clean away and almost hit his head on the exam table. And that’s not even the best part.”
“What could be more exciting than that?” Charity asked, already feeling a little better.
“Doctor Sowers was attending to the husband, and I got to tell the woman that the indigestion that had been plaguing her since she woke up that morning was really early labor. We almost didn’t get her across the breezeway in time to deliver in the labor ward.”
“Wow,” Charity said. “I guess having thirty weeks to prepare is better than finding out I’m pregnant with triplets and giving birth that same day. Did the husband wake up before she had them?”
“Barely. Doctor Sowers and I were side by side, running as we pushed them both in wheelchairs to the hospital side of the complex. The only thing that would have made it better would’ve been having it on video.”
“That would have been something,” Charity said.
The nurse’s smile softened much like Doctor Sowers’ had.
“You’re going to be alright, Charity. You’re a tough woman, and you can get through this.”
“I wish I felt that confident about it.”
“Do you have someone to help you out?”
“Not really. My relationship with the father is complicated.”
“I hear that a lot, too. Humans are complicated. Try to focus on things that bring you joy and let him find a way to get his head out of his ass on his own.” The nurse hugged her impulsively. “You know where I work if you need anything.”
“Thank you. And thank you for the tissues.”
“Any time. I hope you have a better day.”
The woman left without another word, leaving Charity to compose herself before she stepped out of the bathroom. She splashed water on her face until the redness in her eyes faded, then she dried off and stuffed the box of tissues and the bag of vitamins into the oversized purse she’d carried into town. Texting Lincoln that she was done, she made her way out to the courtyard and found a quiet spot to sit while she waited for him to text back that he was outside waiting.
A large fountain splashed merrily in the center of the courtyard, which was filled with plants in pots so close together that she couldn’t see the walls of the building. It almost felt as if she were somewhere else and not in a medical building, learning news that made an already complicated time in her life even more so. She had enough to worry about without wondering if she was going to have her baby in prison.
She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, letting the sun from the skylights warm her skin and the fountain calm her frayed nerves until she felt relaxed and at peace.
“Must’ve been some news,” a familiar voice said behind her, startling her.
“Why didn’t you text me that you were here?” she asked.
“I did. Twice. Then I parked and came in, and a really curt nurse pointed me this way. I think she’s having a bad day.”
“A redhead?”
“Yep.”
“It’s complicated.”
“I bet it is. She glared at me like I’d kicked a puppy.”
Charity sat up, looking into his handsome face and trying to stay calm.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” she lied.
“I don’t believe that.”
She balked.
“Why not?”
“Well, you have obviously been crying, and there’s a nurse I’ve never met staring daggers at me in the waiting room and a handful of everyday people watching us through the door. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that it’s something a little bigger than a checkup.”
She looked at him, searching his eyes and preparing herself for the rejection that was bound to rear its ugly head any moment. Then she burst into tears as she dug the ultrasound picture out of her purse and tossed it his way.
It fluttered to the ground face down. He picked it up carefully, and when he flipped it over, the intake of breath hissed unmistakably.
He stood there for the longest time, motionless, staring down at the paper in his hand.
“Wow,” he said finally, sitting down hard in the wicker chair. “Wow.”
“I guess it could be worse,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue and staring into the leaves of one
of the trees so she didn’t have to see the disgust she was sure was on his face.
“It’s George’s,” he said. “That’s why you said I couldn’t get you pregnant.”
“Yes and no,” she said. “I mean, I thought I could be pregnant, but I wasn’t sure.”
“I understand,” he said.
“Why are you so calm?” she asked, looking at him for the first time, ready to fight.
His expression stopped her in her tracks.
“What else should I be? I don’t think it’s going to help you if I panic, right?”
“Do you want to panic?”
He shrugged.
“I mean, this puts a bit of pressure on us.”
“Because you don’t want to raise a monster’s child?” she said angrily.
He cocked his head, genuinely confused.
“No,” he said. “Because I don’t want monsters raising your baby. Do you think the Wittmans are going to walk away without fighting for their grandchild? That’s a huge problem. I don’t know them, but I can tell you from watching them on the news and from looking at ADA Wittman’s Facebook page, these people are the reason that George ended up like he did. At the very least, they enabled him instead of getting him help. We can’t let them near this baby. They won’t stand a chance.”
“We?” she asked, her voice cracking.
He paused, then took her hands in his and took a deep breath.
“Charity, I love you. If you want me to butt out, I will. But I think that the best thing to do would be to go on with things as if this wasn’t George’s baby. They can’t prove it without a paternity test, and if you’re saying that it isn’t George’s, he’s not here to say otherwise.”
“But his father is the assistant district attorney.”
“So? That doesn’t mean that he can force a paternity test without compelling evidence. How is he going to prove that you’ve been intimate with George? If this gestational age is accurate, then you broke up with him a few days after the last time you—”
“It was the next day. It was what pushed me over the edge.”
“He hurt you?”
“No. But I didn’t stand up for myself either. And I was too afraid to dump him in person.”