“Positive. Let Ken take you home. We’re in good hands here.” He held up the square aluminum dish. “And now, thanks to Ken, we won’t starve.”
Back in the elevator, Ken pulled her close. He kissed the side of her temple and said, “I love that your family prays together. That was a beautiful thing to see.”
It didn’t require a response. She slipped her arms around his waist and squeezed him close.
Inthe waiting room of the obstetrician named Doctor Reynolds, Daisy tried to casually look around at the women waiting with her. Most of them had someone else with them. She sat alone.
While pretending to read a magazine, she kept glancing over the top at the couple across from her. The woman looked quite advanced in her pregnancy and kept showing the man beside her pictures in a catalog. He wore a business suit but had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button. He kept looking at his watch and rubbing the back of his neck. She found him curious. Did he hum with nerves about the upcoming birth, about sitting in this room instead of in his office, or something else entirely? What was the source of his apprehension?
Forcing her eyes off the couple and back down to the open article on how to choose the right baby carrier, Daisy silently started lecturing herself on how she just categorized that man as someone who had something to hide simply because of her experiences with Jason. She immediately prayed that this specific brand of prejudice would not take root in her heart as if it pertained to all men.
Daisy knew good men. Her father, her brother, and her grandfather all came to mind. She had more experience with good men than bad and had no reason to assume all men hid some dark secret.
“Ruiz? Daisy Ruiz?”
She looked up and saw a nurse at the doorway holding an electronic tablet. She stood, grabbing her purse to take with her.
Sitting in the church nursery, she listened to two mothers nursing their babies while they chatted about their births. Both of them had Dr. Reynolds as their obstetrician, and both of them had nothing bad to say about her. That Monday morning, Daisy called the office the second they opened and requested an appointment. They’d scheduled one for a few weeks from now but called her this morning after a cancellation.
After examining her and taking some blood and urine samples for testing, Doctor Reynolds said, “Most everything looks great. Your due date is February twenty-sixth. We are sending a prescription for prenatal vitamins to your pharmacy on record.” She sat on her stool and propped the tablet up against her thigh. She had short silver hair, violet eyes, and a ready smile. “Do you have any questions?”
Uncomfortable and nervous, clutching an ultrasound photo of what looked like a little kidney bean, Daisy said, “I probably have a thousand questions, but I honestly just can’t think of anything right now.”
The doctor slipped her glasses off and put them in the pocket of her lab coat. “There’s something that my husband jokingly calls ‘pregnant brain.’ I want you to know that it’s a real thing. Start keeping notes. If you think of a question to ask me, write it on something you’ll have with you when you come to your next appointment. You’re going to lose track of details and forget things. That’s all perfectly normal. It’s all part of the fun journey of bearing children.” She smiled. “And I have staff on call at all times if you have any other questions you feel can’t wait until your next appointment.”
“Thank you, Dr. Reynolds.”
When she got in her car, Daisy closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. Loneliness crept through her, tightening the muscles in her neck and leaving a gaping hole inside her chest. The ringing of her phone startled her. Ken’s number flashed across her screen.
You have to tell him.
She stared at herself in the rearview mirror and said, “Not over the phone. I’ll tell him in person.”
She closed her eyes again, took a deep breath, released it, then answered the phone. “Hi, Ken.”
“Hi. I scored four Braves tickets for tonight’s game. Want to come?”
Thinking she just might need an energetic and fun baseball game, she said, “Definitely.”
“Great. My brothers can’t make it. Jon’s out of town for the weekend, and Brad’s working on his house. Know anyone who can use the other two?”
She thought of Camila. “Maybe. Can I call you back?”
“Sure. Game starts at six.”
“Give me ten minutes.”
Instead of calling, Daisy drove straight to Camila’s shop. She walked in and found her cousin carefully placing long-stemmed red roses into a silver box.
“Those are beautiful.”
“Twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Isn’t that nice?”
She thought back to her parents’ party for their twenty-fifth. “That’s quite an accomplishment these days, isn’t it?” She leaned against the counter. “Want to go to a Braves game tonight?”
“I always want to see the Braves. Unfortunately, increased insurance rates and fiscal responsibility.” She put the lid on the box and slipped a silver ribbon around it. “Why?”
Daisy shrugged. “Ken is taking me. He has two extra tickets. Would you like to come? Bring Homer?” She thought of Camila’s long-time boyfriend and how much he loved Atlanta baseball.
