Thebartender brought me another basket of wings and blended another drink. As heslid the glass in front of me, another round of “Sweet Home Alabama” traveledthrough the speakers. While I laughed and forgot about my life, he hung hishead and groaned with aggravation.
“So,”I said, pinching the straw in my fingers, “your name is Goose?”
Helifted his eyes to mine and smiled. “Guilty. And since you know mine now, Ithink it’s only fair that you tell me yours.”
“It'sKenny.”
“Agirl named Kenny walks into a bar and meets a guy named Goose,” he mused.“Sounds like the premise of one of those chick flicks or something.”
“Well,you know,” I said, as I brought my lips down to take a sip, “Iamanauthor.”
“Nokiddin'?” I shook my head in reply as I drank. “Well,I expect you to write that story, then.”
Iswallowed and felt the residual envy fade away as thefamiliaryet somehow foreign feeling of newfound friendship settled in and made itselfat home.
“Ijust might do that.”
Chapter Five
Itembarrassed me that, when I’d called my OB/GYN’s office, I couldn’t rememberwhen I’d last had an appointment. The receptionist stalled and stumbled as shechecked the file my old doctor had sent over and told me that my last Pap smearhad been done over six years ago. Then, I replied with an awkward joke saying,“Well, I guess I’m about due, then, huh?”
Now,I sat awkwardly in the waiting room, quietly observing the other patientsaround me. They were mostly expecting women, all at different stages ofpregnancy, and I marveled at the size of their bellies. I found it impossibleto believethat,one day, in the not so distantfuture, I would be in their shoes. Bracing myself to sit down, finding itdifficult to stand up, and forgetting entirely about bending over. The thoughtof my body changing so drastically, so quickly, filled me with enough anxietyto trigger my overly sensitive stomach which sent me rushing to the bathroom,where I threw up my entire breakfast of Saltines and frozen waffles. My cheeksflushed with humiliation as I returned to my seat, but the only looks Ireceived were ones of sympathy.
Perksof being pregnant, I guess.
“KendallWright?”
Ilifted my head from my phone to see a short, red-headed nurse with her armsaround a tablet, standing in the doorway of the waiting room. I smiled as Igrabbed my purse and headed toward her.
“Okay,so first, I'm just going to have you pee in a cup ...” She led me to a bathroomand handed me a plastic cup with a grin.
“Oh,great, that's exactly how I had hoped to start my day,” I quipped sardonically.
Thenurse smiled, not knowing if I was joking and not knowing how to respondappropriately.
Myfavorite people are fluent in sarcasm, butclearlyshewasn't.
“Weonly need a little bit,” she said, gesturing into the bathroom.
Steppinginside and raising the cup to her, I replied, “Well, I'll see what I can do.”
***
“Okiedokie, here we are,” the ultrasound technician said,leading me into a dark room.
Iapproached the exam table and began to climb up. “So, how do I do this? Do Ijust lift my shirt and—”
“Oh,um, I need you to please remove your pants and underwear first.”
Ilooked at her, startled. “Oh. Right.”
Shegestured toward a curtain and a stool situated in the corner of the room, theninstructed me to loosely wrap the sheet around my lower half. I did as I wastold, while wondering what was happening. This wasn't what I'd seen oncountless TV shows or movies, and I uncomfortably emerged from behind the curtainwith the sheet held to my waist, wondering what was about to happen to me.
“Justhop up here and we'll take a look at your baby.”
Yourbaby.
Mybaby.
