“So,your heart rate and blood pressure today were similar to what they were whenyou first started seeing me,” she said, folding her hands over her whitecoat-covered stomach. “I’m inclined to think that you’re fine and that this wasonly a fluke, but with pregnancy, you never really know. So, I’m going to giveyou a recommendation to see a cardiologist, where they’ll run some tests torule out any potential issues. Okay?”
Thatword and recommendation was immediately terrifying, as it reminded me of theheart attack that nearly killed my father fifteen years ago. My palms began tosweat, as my racing mind insisted that healthy thirty-five-year-olds don't goto cardiologists and that healthy pregnancies don't require EKGs andechocardiograms. But there I was, accepting a referral and promising to make anappointment as soon as possible.
Then,I left the office with a lump in my throat and struggled not to cry. Because Iloved my little bean and the thought of being a mommy, but I really, reallywasn’t loving being pregnant. And I especially didn’t love going through itwith a boyfriend who didn’t seem to care much about what was happening tome.
Chapter Eleven
“Ifyou need me to go, I'll cancel my appointment,” Mom said.
Icould hear the fear in her voice, and I knew that, if I had asked, she'd tellme she was worrying herself sick over my heart. Of course, I was worried, too,and I had spent the nights since my appointment with Dr. Albrecht, panickingover what could be wrong with me. But I didn't want my mom to stress, and Ididn't want her to put my health over her own. Even if she was just going for aroutine exam with her family doctor.
“No,don't do that,” I insisted. “It's going to be fine and if I hear anything, youknow I'll let you know. But there's no reason to get freaked out over it rightnow. Even the gynecologist isn’t worried about it. This is just a precaution.”
“Areyou sure?” she asked, unconvinced. “Is Brendan going with you?”
Iswallowed and glanced toward the bedroom, where Brendan was taking a nap. “No,he can’t. He's got—”
“I'llreschedule.”
“No,no, don't do that.” I tipped my head back to look up at the ceiling of my tinyapartment and sighed. “I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. Seriously.”
Sherelented with the promise that she would always worry aboutme,andmade me swear I'd call her right after my visit with thecardiologist. When we hung up, I glanced at my watch and felt the knots in mygut tighten.
Itwas nine o'clock.
Therewere thirteen hours until my appointment.
Ihad lied to my mom when I said that I was fine and not at all worried, but thetruth was I was terrified of what the doctor would find after he ran his tests.I didn't want to face the news alone,goodor bad, butI wasn't left with many options. My parents werebusyand I didn’t want to impose on their schedules, while Brendan was busy with ameeting at work.
Iscrolled through my phone, looking through my list of contacts and realized howfew people Iactually knew, now that I needed someoneto be there for me. There were names of professional people I knew in theauthor world. A few random friends I hadn't talked to in years and a couplerelatives who lived across the country. With a sigh, I wondered why I hadn’ttaken more time to make friends in the year I’d been living in the city,knowing it was due to being too introverted for my own good. Now, it seemedvery daunting and very much like I'd be facing another doctor’s appointment bymyself. But when I passed Goose's name, I hesitated.
Wedidn't know each other all that well, and we hadn't known each other for allthat long. Yet, I wondered what he'd say if I asked. So, I called.
“Goosehere.”
Isniffled a soft laugh at the sound of “Sweet Home Alabama” in the background.
“Hey,”I said. “It's Kenny.”
“Kenny!What'shappenin', girlfriend?”
“Nota whole lot. Youworking?”
“Youknow it.”
“Cool.”
Dammit,I felt so silly, calling this guy I barely knew, to ask him if he'd hold myhand at the doctor. Sure, we had now hung out outside of the bar, but it had justbeen a tour through a cemetery and a casual dinner. It wasn’t a bigdeal, andwas very much unlike a trip to the cardiologist.Anxiety jounced my legs beneath the table, as my fingers tangled up in my hair.I needed to get on with it and to let him get back to work, but the words hadglued themselves to my tongue and refused to come out.
“Hey,you okay?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,um ...” I pulled in a deep, cleansing breath, realizing it was now or never.“Okay, so this is really stupid andkindaembarrassing,but I have this doctor's appointment tomorrow. And my mom could come out, but Ireally don’t want to make her worry for potentially no reason, so I was—”
“Yeah,I'll go with you.”
Myjaw flapped a couple times before I managed to say, “I-I-I haven't even toldyou what time it is or, or anything—”
“It'sfine. Whatever you need, I'm there. It's all good.”
