“You’regonnabe okay, Kenny. I’mgonnabe right there, and we’ll get you to your doctor.”
Inodded erratically, feeling as Mrs. Potter nudged my fingertips. “O-Okay.Please hurry.”
“I'mcomin' as fast as I can.”
***
Goosegot to my place just a few minutes later. In the freezing cold, he had run fromhis bar to my little apartment in record time. I heard him knocking, and usingmy hands to feel my way, I managed to get to the door and opened it for him. Ifelt the warmth of his presence, the sturdy width of his chest, and I collapsedagainst him in a heap of worry and tears.
“Igot you, Kenny,” he whispered against my hair, with his arms tight around me.“I got you. You’regonnabe okay.”
Hefound my shoes, purse, and jacket, and then, with his arm around my shoulders,he led me in my pajamas down to the street, where he called a cab. On the quickride to the doctor, Goose found the number in my phone and gave them a call,letting them know I was on the way.
But,by the time we reached the OB/GYN's office, just two hours before my scheduledappointment, my vision had already begun to return. Now I felt like an idiot,as we took a seat in the waiting room. But Goose just took my hand and assuredme there was nothing to feel stupid about.
“Whatif they don't find anything wrong and I came here early for nothing? I’mwasting their time now,” I said. “It was probably just an anxiety attack orsomething.”
“Then,consider yourself lucky,” he replied gruffly, keeping my fingers tightly woundwith his.
Aswe waited, I wondered if I should talk to him about what had happened betweenus, just to clear away any residual awkwardness that still permeated the air. Iwanted to apologize, for my reaction to his kiss and for still having hisnumber in my phone, but before I could say anything, the red-headed nurse wascalling me back to an exam room.
Shenow recognized me from previous appointments and, while eyeing Gooseskeptically, asked, “Is your boyfriend on the way?”
“No,”I answered sheepishly, feeling like an idiot in my worn flannel jammies andleopard print slippers. “But, um, my friend is here, so …”
“You'reokay with him being in the exam room?”
Truthfully,I wasn't so sure that I was, but all things considered, I was even less okaywith being alone. So, I nodded without hesitation, and she instructed us bothwhere to sit. She asked some questions about the incident with my eyes and theother symptoms I'd been feeling lately. She took my blood pressure andtemperature, and then, told me the doctor would be in to see me shortly.
Now,in the quiet of the sterile room, and sitting on the exam table, I clenched myfingers together while my legs jittered nervously, and said, “God, what ifsomething is really wrong?”
“Nothingis wrong,” Goose assured me gently. “You're going to be fine.”
“Youdon't know that.”
“Yes,I do. You're fine.”
Theywere empty words. There was no way he could know if I was, in fact, fine. Butit felt nice just to have him there, to not be alone, and I allowed myself torelax just a little.
WhenDr. Albrecht finally came into the room a few minutes later, she noted theunusual amount of swelling in my legs and told me they wanted to do a sonogram.“But first,” she said, “you mentioned to the nurse that you haven't felt thebaby move as much lately.”
“No,”I said, shaking my head. “I figured it's just because he's got less room tomove around in there or something.”
Shenodded and instructed me to lie back, then laid her hands on my stomach andfelt around, pressing and prodding. My heart pounded loudly, terrified of whatshe might say, until finally, in an eerily calm tone, she said, “Okay, my dear.So, before we do the sonogram, I think we should run a nonstress test. Followme.”
“What?Why?” I asked, as my heart dreaded what her next words might be.
Shesmiled reassuringly. “We just need to make sure everything is okay.”
Withoutany other questions, we did as we were told and followed her down the hallway andinto another room I hadn't seen before, one with two cushy recliners.
“Howdid you know I needed a nap?” Goose joked, and Dr. Albrecht wagged a finger athim.
“No,no, this is not for you,” she said, just as the nurse entered the room.“Kendall, we're going to strap a monitor to your belly and you're just going torelax. Every time you feel the baby kick,” she handed me a long, thin devicewith a button at the top, “you're going to press this button. Like playing avideo game. Okay?”
Asthe nurse positioned the monitor and secured it tightly to my belly, I nodded.Then, both doctor and nurse told me to sit tight for a few minutes and to feelfor the baby's kicks, and with that, they left the room.
Sittingacross from me in a less comfortable chair, Goose said, “Try to relax. They'rejust running tests as a formality. You're going to be fine.”
