“Have you ever smoked or used tobacco or nicotine products?”
Becca hesitated.
Kerry waited.
“No, not really.” The teen made a face. “I tried a few times.”
“Did you use any tobacco or nicotine products in the three months before you became pregnant?”
“No, it was last summer.”
“Does anyone smoke in your house or vehicle?”
“No.”
She repeated the same set of questions about alcohol and recreational drugs, then moved on to the intimate partner violence screen. “Since you’ve been pregnant, have you been slapped, kicked or otherwise physically hurt by someone?”
“No.” Becca’s eyes widened.
Kerry noted that, then asked the next question. “Have you ever been emotionally or physically abused by someone important to you?”
“No.”
All of her negative answers seemed genuine and without stress, but the age gap between her and the boyfriend and the tense dynamic between them in the waiting room still gave Kerry some concern. Another note, then she paused and pointed at the door, toward the man on the other side. “The person with you today, do you want them to come in for any part of the appointment?”
“Oh yeah, my dad’s great.”
Kerry’s pen slid against the paper.Her father.Oh. She backed up her mental process, all the way to when she first stepped into the waiting room and saw the big guy sitting on the couch, who had to be older than her, with his arm around the slight, scared-looking teenager.
The name, the accidental connection to gossip at the Green Hedgehog. What a rookie mistake. And then she zoomed, fast forward, to what Becca had just said.My parents aren’t thrilled. My parents were young when they had me.
“You mentioned he wasn’t thrilled? I just want to make sure you’re comfortable and supported here.”
“Oh.” Becca grimaced. “Yeah. Well, I am. My parents both mean well. You’ll meet my mom at the next appointment. They think I’m reliving their mistakes, but like, I’m their mistake? And I’m pretty cool. Obviously. So they’ll deal. It’s fine. He can come in. His bark is worse than his bite.”
“All right. Let’s zip through the rest of these questions and figure out your probable due date. Then we’ll get him to come in and we can discuss appointment schedules and what comes next.”
By the time Kerry opened the door and invited Becca’s father to join them, the teen had relaxed and opened up a bit about her ex-boyfriend, who hadn’t responded to her texts about the pregnancy yet, and her worries about having enough hours to get EI for her maternity leave.
Becca’s demeanour didn’t shift at all when her dad sat down next to her, either. They leaned in to each other, exchanging a warm, silent communication.
Kerry’s concern eased all the way.
But the warmth this man had for his daughter did not extend to her midwife. When he pivoted his attention to her, his gaze was hard and cold. “Are you done grilling her?”
Kerry felt her eyebrows spike toward her hairline, and it took all of her self-restraint to catch them and ease her expression into something more like gentle taken-aback-ness rather than the sharp what-the-fork reaction she was really having.
Nodding slowly, she held his gaze. Dark grey eyes glared back. “There was no grilling. I explained to Becca that it’s routine practice to cover off some of the basics alone, and then bring in the support person for the appointment. It’s great that you could be here. I understand Becca lives with you?”
“Yes.”
“And is your name Kincaid as well?” She was already pretty sure it was, but the gossip had led her astray already once today.
“Yeah. Owen Kincaid.” As Becca had warned, he practically barked it out.
“Nice to meet you.” It was the polite thing to say, but she wasn’t sure it was true.What’s your forking problemwasn’t appropriate to ask, but she really wanted to know.
It would come out in time. It always did. He wouldn’t be the first person to be bristly with her, and he wouldn’t be the last. She pushed it out of her mind and carried on with the rest of the appointment.
