Road to Reality (20 page)

“Looks like another ear infection,” Mac said to the young mother, rolling his stool back over to the laptop.  A few clicks later, he looked back at her and caught her smiling at him with a dreamy look in her eyes. He tried to ignore it, like he did almost daily.  “I’ve sent the script to the pharmacy. Adam should start to feel better by tonight,” he added, looking at the nine-month-old sitting on his mother’s lap.  “If for some reason he doesn’t, call the office tomorrow and we will try another antibiotic.”

“Thank you so much. I don’t understand why he keeps getting ear infections.”

Mac smiled slightly, saw two twin pink dots appear on Adam’s mother’s face and sighed inwardly.  “Some kids are more prone to them than others.”

He stood up to leave and felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. “Excuse me,” he said, glancing down quickly to read the text that showed up.
11 weeks. Everything looks good.  Call me when you can
.  There was no stopping the smile that stretched across face, or the fact that his eyes got a bit misty. He wanted to be at that appointment with her today, but didn’t want to pressure her. Thankfully, she was able to get in so quickly. Of course he knew she would, it was a well-respected facility.

“Happy news?” Adam’s mother asked. 

He had completely forgotten that they were in the room.  “Yes, the best.” He cleared his throat, took another look at Adam on his mother’s hip.  “You try to let your mom get some sleep tonight, you hear?”  Adam cooed with his mouth open, drool running out of his little lips. 

“Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said to both of them and walked back to his office, bypassing the next patient for the moment.

Beth answered on the first ring. “So good news?” he said, not even trying to hold the happiness from his voice.

“I guess,” she said tentatively.

Mac was silent, and then she jumped in quickly. “I mean yes. Everything looks the way it should with the baby and me.  I’m...still adjusting…” She trailed off.

“I know.  I can’t help it, I’m happy. I’m excited.  I want you to be, too,” he added.

“Give me time.  I’m trying, I really am.” She laughed humorlessly. “It’s a little hard when you’re tired and sick, on top of the surprise of it all.”

“I’ll give you anything you want.  I’m not going to disappoint you, or leave you.” He heard her sigh, looked at his watch and saw it was shy of lunchtime. “Are you home? Or did you go back to work?”

“Work. I’ve got a few appointments this afternoon that I didn’t want to lose,” she said warily.

“Why don’t I grab a pizza or something tonight, and let you relax.  I can get Zoe ready for bed if you’d like,” he suggested.

She paused. He held his breath.  “Ah, dinner is good, but not pizza.  Anything without dairy, just saying the word is making me gag right now.”

He chuckled. “OK, I’ll pick up something else.  Text me before you leave if you have any ideas. Otherwise, I’ll surprise you, no dairy, though.”

He heard her groan and he cringed. “Sorry. I’ll see you tonight after work. And, Beth, I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said around a yawn.  “I hope I can get through the day, and through the next week. The doctor said the sickness should go away after the first trimester, so I’m hoping that is true.  Only one more week to go. Hopefully.”

***

Five hours later, he unlocked Beth’s front door with a bag of Chinese food. He was mildly alarmed when she sent him a text an hour earlier saying she wanted sweet and sour chicken, thinking that might not be a good choice. But he didn’t question it and got what she wanted, plus a few other options for him and Zoe. 

“Dr. Mac,” Zoe yelled and ran out of her room.  Today she had on a yellow princess dress with a tiara on her head and plastic shoes that her feet were sliding in and out of.  She held her hands up to be picked up, but he leaned down to give her a kiss instead. 

“Food,” she squealed when she saw the bag. “I’m hungry.  Mommy’s not cooking tonight,” she announced.

A wide smile formed at his lips from the sight of her dressed just so, not to mention at how happy she was to see him.  Then a chuckle escaped when he heard the clicking of plastic as she followed him into the kitchen, thinking this was what his life to could be like, coming home to this every day.

“Where’s Mommy?” he asked. But then turned when the bathroom door off the kitchen opened. She looked horrible, and he felt terrible.  She really was struggling with this pregnancy. 

“Come here.” He pulled her close and held her, then was completely taken back when he felt her body start to tremble and she sobbed on his shoulder. “Zoe, can you go play in your room for a minute while Mommy and I talk?” he asked gently.

Zoe looked up, tears in her eyes. “Why is Mommy crying?”

Oh boy. He was about to have two crying women on his hands in a minute.  “Ah, Mommy isn’t feeling well right now.”

Zoe sniffled, ran an arm under her nose as the tiara started to fall off her head. She lifted her hand to adjust it, and told him, “You’re a doctor. You make her feel better.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’ll make her feel better.” He watched her turn away, and walk the few steps to her room, plastic shoes clicking on the floor.

He let Beth cry it out. 

On top of feeling sick and being tired, her hormones were completely out of whack. After a few minutes she finally composed herself, red swollen eyes searching his concerned ones. “I’m sorry. I’m OK now. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Your pregnant,” he stated.

“No shit,” she said and slapped a hand in front of her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.  I don’t know where that came from,” she said, horrified. “I’ve taken every measure in my life to remove any trace of my parents and their behavior. I don’t want that type of influence on Zoe and here I am saying something that would have come out of my mother’s mouth.”

He laughed at her; it was impossible not to.  “You’re human, and you’re tired.  I’ve heard worse, believe me.” Trying to suppress another chuckle when she scowled at him proved fruitless, he finally shook his head and gave her a little kiss on the cheek.  “Sit down, let me get dinner on the table, then we can all relax and go to bed early tonight.”

***

Mac was lying in bed watching Beth sleep.  Zoe had gone to bed fast and easy like the little angel she was. Even faster when he said he would make her breakfast in the morning. She told him she was in a hurry to get to sleep, so she could wake up and have Mac cook her pancakes. Beth still couldn’t even look at milk without running for the bathroom.

For the first time ever, he watched Beth plow her way through a meal tonight. She never ate more than a few bites of anything, seemingly always having a small appetite. But she wasn’t kidding when she said she was hungry.  She ate the entire large sweet and sour chicken dinner herself, which normally fed two adults.  And fortunately for her, it seemed to be staying down. He hoped she didn’t regret feasting like that come morning, though.

After Zoe was fast asleep and Beth dead on her feet, he had helped her to bed.  It had been three days since her home pregnancy test confirmed what Mac had suspected.  After she had received the official results from her doctor, he wanted to reassure her that he was going to be there for her, and remind her that everything would be okay.

And if truth were known, he had needed the reassurance himself.  He didn’t want her pulling away because she was afraid
he
might. He wasn’t going anywhere.

When he had seen how tired she was, he climbed into bed next to her, pulled her close, and stroked her hair while she lay next to him.  He had thought she’d fallen asleep, but her hand moved up and covered his, which had been resting over her stomach.  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

“Of what?” He wanted to know, needed to know. 

“Of loving you more than I already do. And having you decide it’s not what you really want.  I know you will do right by this baby, but I’m selfish and want you for me too.  It’s like it’s all too good to be true.  I’m waiting for you to vanish on me, like a dream.”

He heard the crack in her voice and suspected she had tears in her eyes.  “What do I need to do to convince you? I know it’s early yet.  We haven’t known each other long, but I know what I want. I know what I need.  It’s you, only you.  Tell me what you need from me to prove it,” he pleaded with her.

She turned and looked at him, confirming she did indeed have tears in her eyes. They hadn’t fallen and he hoped they wouldn’t. “Time.  And for you to keep loving me.  Show me how much you love me, Mac. Show me now,” she demanded urgently, pulling his head down for a kiss. 

And it had been urgent.  He needed to feel her, needed to touch her, make them as one.  His hands slid under her shirt, lightly touching her breasts, testing them, not wanting to hurt her. Whispering against her lips, he asked, “Feel better? Or still sensitive?”

She moaned. “Better. Sensitive, but in a good way. It feels so good.”

That was all the encouragement he had needed.  He had wanted her to feel good. But he kept it soft, even in his urgent state. Pulling and pushing the little clothing they had on over their heads and down their legs, he reached for the bedside drawer and then stopped.  Smiling, he brought his hand back to her face and kissed her deeply.  Breaking away, he leaned back and looked into her eyes.  “You’re a first for me, too.”

He read the confusion in her face, kissed her quickly on the lips again.  “Without protection.   We’ve got a baby on the way.” He grinned and placed another kiss on her lips.  “No use protecting from that now.”

Both his hands reached for her head, bringing her face closer as he covered her mouth with his.  Holding her tight, he rolled them so that he was leaning over her, supporting his weight on his elbows, not wanting to cause her or the baby any pain.  His knee slid between hers, spreading her legs wide, his mouth hungrily feeding on hers.

He moved his hips and slowly eased inside of her welcoming heat. He groaned into her mouth, the sensations running through his body better than anything he had ever felt before in his life.  And he shared them with her.

Beth was really hoping now that she was in her twelfth week—the end of her first trimester—that the dreaded sickness would disappear. Even lessen up a little. But she didn’t get that wish. 

Today was the worst day by far.  So much so that Mitchell sent her home several hours early. She had tried telling him that her lunch didn’t agree with her, wishing that she’d never ate the leftover spaghetti.  But it had tasted so good.  Maybe the sauce was to acidic?  Mitchell didn’t buy it, unfortunately.

But she had refused to go until he called Mac for her and arranged for him to pick Zoe up from her preschool. Once that was squared away, and she felt her stomach was settled enough for the five-minute drive home, she left.

***

Mac’s heart had dropped in his throat when he saw Mitchell’s phone number appear on his cell phone earlier today. He had walked out of his patient’s exam without a word.  Beth always called or texted him from her own phone, never the salon’s number. In his eyes that meant something was wrong.

He wasn’t happy to hear she was sicker today than before. He was actually concerned and was going to talk to her about calling the doctor again. He knew it was normal in the first trimester, and had heard of worse cases, but those cases weren’t the woman carrying his child. 

Once he realized the call wasn’t life or death, he had returned to his patient to finish the exam. But first, he made sure Beth texted him that she got home safely.

Now he was pulling into the parking lot of Zoe’s preschool, ready to pick her up her for the night.  “Dr. Mac,” Zoe squealed when she saw him coming through the door. He was really going to have to find a way to get her to stop calling him that, it was getting embarrassing, especially now. 

“Hi, sweetie.” He picked her up on the run, ignoring all the ogling eyes directed at him.

Zoe gave him a big hug and laid her head on his shoulder.  It always made his heart swell when she did that.  So trusting.  If only her mother were as trusting. “Where’s Mommy?”

He reached for her little book bag that the preschool teacher handed him.  “Mommy isn’t feeling well right now.”

“Is it her belly again?  She runs to the bathroom after she eats breakfast. It’s gross.” She wrinkled her little nose.

Several eyes pointed in his direction starting to speculate, so he got out of there as fast as he could. “She has a little bug, but she’ll be fine,” he tried to explain to Zoe.

“A bug? What kind of bug? Like a grasshopper?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

He let out a laugh. “No, not like a grasshopper.” Changing the subject, he asked, “What do you want for dinner? I don’t think Mommy will feel like cooking.”

“McDonald’s,” she cried out and clapped her hands. “Chicken nuggets and fries.”

Crap.  That was supposed to be their secret. He knew how much Beth prided herself on Zoe eating home-cooked meals.  “Why don’t we run to the store and pick out something easy I can cook for you?  Maybe you can help me?” he asked, hoping it would take her mind off the fast food.

Twenty minutes later he unlocked the door to Beth’s carrying one grocery bag and Zoe’s backpack. Zoe behaved and stayed right by his side all through the grocery store and into the house.

He pulled the two steaks out of the bag, along with a premade salad and a bag of fresh green beans.  He could handle that, and it seemed plain enough for Beth’s delicate stomach. The red meat would hopefully do her good.

When he noticed the bathroom door wide open, he realized the house was quiet. So he walked to the living room, didn’t see her and opened up her bedroom door where she was lying on her back, both hands protecting her stomach. 

His face softened, he walked the few steps, and placed his own hand over hers for a moment. When she didn’t stir, he shut the door quietly behind him and asked Zoe to help him cook dinner.

It was a good thing he bought a big bag of green beans, because Zoe was breaking almost half off each time she broke the end off, not leaving very big pieces to eat.

But it was the fun, so that was all that mattered.  Zoe felt special and was all excited to be cooking dinner for her mommy. 

The weather was still nice enough to grill outside, so once the green beans were in the boiling water he threw the steaks on the grill and asked Zoe to quietly wake up her mother.

By time Mac made his way back into the kitchen, both steaks grilled to perfection, Beth was pouring the beans out of a hot pot and into the colander. 

“I’ve got it,” Mac told her. “Sit and relax.”

She waved him away when he went to take the beans. “I’m fine.  Thanks for letting me sleep. I guess I needed it, and I feel so much better now. Matter of fact I’m starving.”

“Good thing I bought two good-sized steaks then. I saw the damage you did to the sweet and sour chicken last week,” he said, tugging a lock of her hair.

“Yeah well, I was like this with Zoe.  Couldn’t get enough food in me no matter how much I ate, only I never was sick with her,” she said, pouting.

“With any luck it will be over in a week or so.”

“I hope so,” she agreed, grabbing the silverware out of the drawer and placing it next to the plates already set on the table.

“Go wash your hands, Zoe,” Mac ordered.  Zoe ran to do as she was told, and Mac walked over to give Beth a quick kiss.  “You sure you’re OK?  Maybe you should call the doctor tomorrow,” he suggested.

“I’ll give it another couple of days.  Today seemed to be the worst, maybe this was the last of it. Either way, I don’t want to talk about it and ruin my dinner.” She laughed and reached over to grab a steak off the plate.

***

They were both cleaning up much to Mac’s disgust, when Mrs. Wilks knocked on the door. He tried to remind Beth of the whoever-cooked-cleaned policy, but she wasn’t buying it.  She said she had been lying around and needed to move a bit now.

“Beth?” Mrs. Wilks popped her head around the door right after she knocked.  “I’ve got some mail for you. I totally forgot until I felt it in my pocket.  It needed to be signed for, so I told the mailman I could do it since I babysat for Zoe and would see you later.  Hope that was OK?”

“Sure, Mrs. Wilks,” Beth said, drying her hands on a dishtowel to accept the envelope. 

“I’ll let you two kids get back to your night.  Zoe, I’ll see you in the morning,” Mrs. Wilks said, closing the door behind her.

Beth walked back into the kitchen and turned the envelope over in her hands, the blood draining from her face. 

Mac dropped the towel and rushed over. “What? What is it?” He took the envelope from her hands, looked at it, and noticed a law firm’s name in the left hand corner.

She lowered herself into the chair and looked at him with tear-filled eyes. “Derek,” she whispered.

“Who’s Derek?” Mac asked as Zoe came walking in with a baby doll cradled in one arm and a plastic bottle in the other.

“Mommy, are you OK?” she asked.

Beth’s face look haunted when Mac looked at her.  “How about I put cartoons on for you, Zoe? You and your baby can watch them together. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” he asked gently, trying to mask his building anxiety.

“OK,” she said, her little feet padding into the other room.

Just as Mac found the right channel on the TV, he heard the bathroom door slam shut and rushed toward the kitchen to the sounds of Beth losing her dinner.  He went to turn the handle to check on her and found it locked.  He rapped his knuckles on the frame. “Beth, open up.”  But all he heard was her empting her stomach.

The opened letter on the kitchen table caught his eye and he picked it up, scanned it quickly and swore.

Hearing the toilet flush, he folded the letter back up and shoved it in his pocket without a thought.  He waited for the water to stop running and then addressed Beth again, “You OK? Open the door.”

Something that sounded like sobbing came from the other side, mixed with a gagging noise, increasing his anxiety to another level. Slamming his open palm on the door he yelled, “Unlock this door or I’ll break it down.  I mean it, Beth. I have to see if you’re all right.”

Another moment passed, more water running, and then he heard the lock turn.  Opening the door, he saw her sitting unsteadily on the lid of the toilet bowl, face in her hands, sobbing. 

“Come on, let’s get you in bed, you need to lie down.” He reached to help her up on shaky legs, guiding her the length of the small apartment until she was on her side of the bed with a blanket tucked over her.

He walked out and saw Zoe’s wide eyes filling with tears, her lower lip trembling. “Is Mommy sick again?”

“Yeah. Mommy isn’t feeling too good right now. Let her sleep a bit. Why don’t we get you in the tub for the night?  What do you think, want to draw on the walls again?” he asked with a grim smile.

“Color the tub pink,” Zoe said. 

Yeah. Color the tub pink, and every other color in the box of soap crayons he bought her weeks ago. That should entertain her and take her mind off Beth. 

He doubted it would help him though.

***

By the next morning Mac was ready to pull his hair out with how stubborn Beth was being.  He was waiting outside the bathroom door, as he had multiple times throughout the night.  He tried to talk to her about the letter, but every time she started to speak, she would end up running to the bathroom and throwing up again.  At this point he was worried sick and knew she was dehydrated. 

He did everything he could for her throughout the night. However, every time she got fluids in her, she would start to talk to him and then run back to the bathroom. He finally told her to forget it for now. They would deal with it another day.

Now it was a little after five in the morning and he knew he had no choice, she was too weak to fight him on this. He let her have her way throughout the night because she tried to drink, and she kept some of it down, but he was finished with being patient. 

“You’re going to the hospital,” he told her, seeing her on her knees again.  Her eyes looked black and hollow, her face was white as a sheet and she looked ready to break if he touched her wrong.

“I’m not going, Mac, I’ll be fine.  Just make me a cup of tea,” she suggested.

“No. Get up and walk to the car, or I’m carrying you. End of story.  If you won’t think of yourself, then think of our child. I’m done discussing this,” he said firmly.

“What about Zoe?” she asked, too weak to even drum up enough tears in her eyes at the moment, even though he knew she was extremely upset.

“I heard movement upstairs. I’ll run up and get Mrs. Wilks to come down and stay with Zoe, so she can sleep a few more hours, she will be fine.  Stay here until I get back.”

A few minutes later, Mrs. Wilks arrived, concern written all over her face. “Oh dear, you should have contacted me last night.  Don’t even worry about Zoe, she’ll be fine. I’ll take good care of her.” She rushed off to give the two of them privacy and went to watch TV quietly in the other room.

“Let’s get you up and changed if we can,” Mac said, reaching a hand to help her stand.

Once in her bedroom she sat on the bed, shaking uncontrollably while Mac patiently dressed her with the same care he had Zoe in the past.  “Let’s go. Can you walk?”

“I think so,” she said with a shudder. But when she tried to stand she ended up grabbing the bed to steady herself. 

“Forget it.” Mac reached down and lifted her as if she weighed nothing, cradling her in his arms while Mrs. Wilks rushed in front of him to open the door to the apartment and then his car.

Once on the way the short distance to the hospital, Beth said quietly, “Everyone is going to know.”

“Know what?” he asked absently.

“That it’s your child.”

“Your point?” he asked.

“I don’t want to make things uncomfortable for you at your job. I’m sure it won’t reflect well.”

He pinned her with a sharp look. “Don’t test me. I’ve reached my limit with you right now.  Let’s get this very clear.  I. Don’t. Care.” He slowly said each word. “I’m not trying to hide anything. I never have. That’s all you.”

Not that he wanted her to be this sick, but maybe this was the push that was needed for her to realize he wasn’t embarrassed. He was thrilled that he was going to be a father. He wanted to shout it to everyone; only she kept holding him back.  No more after today.

She closed her eyes and laid her head back against the headrest, too weak to even argue at this point.

Since she refused to be carried into the ER, Mac pulled in front of the entrance, got a wheelchair and pushed her right past the admission desk toward the nurse’s station. 

Thankfully it was a slow morning.  Or maybe not, as speculation rose when he started to explain Beth’s condition over the last twenty-four hours.