A DOCTOR'S VOW

by Christine Rimmer

  Kelly went over her medical history with her and then began the physical exam.

  "Sensitive?" Kelly asked when Ronni grimaced as Kelly gently prodded her left breast in the familiar circular pattern.

  "A little."

  "Period due … when?"

  They'd just gone over Ronni's history. And the date of the start of her last period had been included.

  "Not for another week or so yet," Kelly said, answering her own question.

  "Hm…"

  Ronni jumped to explain the sensitivity away. "Maybe it's coming a little early this month."

  "I thought your periods were normally quite regular."

  "They are. But we both know there are any number of reasons for sensitive breasts."

  "Foremost among them, imminent menstruation … and pregnancy. Lower that arm, and raise the other one. That's good."

  Ronni looked down at her friend's slender, capable fingers as they moved gently around the slope of her right breast.

  That one was tender, too. Kelly glanced at her face when she winced.

  "All right," Ronni confessed. "We had unprotected sex. One time. Last week."

  "Put your arm down." Kelly helped Ronni to rearrange her paper gown so that it covered her breasts again. "Put your feet up now." Kelly performed the pelvic exam, which both women knew would be unlikely to reveal signs of pregnancy right then.

  "Everything looks fine," Kelly said when she was done. "We'll have the results of the Pap smear in a day or two."

  Ronni knew the drill, of course. She wouldn't hear anything about the Pap smear results unless abnormalities showed up.

  Kelly peeled off her latex gloves and dropped them into the trash. Then she walked around the examining couch to stand by Ronni's shoulder. She put her hand on Ronni's arm. Ronni recognized the touch: a doctor's touch, meant to soothe, to reassure. It felt just a little strange, to be on the receiving end of such a touch this time.

  Ronni let out a hard breath and said what she was thinking. "Pretty stupid, huh? Incredibly stupid. And me an M.D. Someone who should know better."

  Kelly's eyes were so kind. They didn't judge at all. They really did seem to understand. "It happens." Her voice was low, warm. A little sad. "And even an M.D. is human, you know. Like everyone else, sometimes we're just not as careful as we ought to be—and let's not jump to conclusions." She spoke more briskly. "The only symptom we have right now is breast sensitivity. It could very well be a false alarm. I can run a serum test if you want me to, right now. We get virtually one hundred percent accuracy a week after conception on those—barring lab error, of course."

  "No," Ronni said. "It's all right." She didn't need to know this minute. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know right now.

  "Okay," Kelly agreed. "Wait another two weeks. We'll run the serum test then—or you can take a home test, if your period doesn't start when it's due. A positive result on a home test after a missed period is just about as accurate as the serum test."

  Pregnant, Ronni thought. I could be pregnant… Now, that would add a whole new dimension to an already extremely challenging situation. Not that she didn't want to bear a child. Someday. But right now?

  She had three children to deal with already. Ryan's children.

  And then there was Lily. And two time-consuming careers.

  So much to work through.

  Too much to work through, to be honest.

  And then to add pregnancy. A new baby…

  It made her palms sweat and her head spin. "Oh, God, Kel. It would be … a truly tough time to have a baby. I can't believe this. I don't want to believe this."

  "Hey. Slow down. You won't know for a week or two, at least. And nothing has to be dealt with today. It's quite likely that you're not pregnant, after all. And if you are, there will be options."

  "You're right." Ronni sat up. "I'm not going to start worrying about this now. There is no point."

  "Smart thinking." Kelly patted Ronni's shoulder. "Go ahead and get dressed. And I'll go write you up a script for Ovral. You can start taking them on the fifth day after the onset of your next menstrual period."

  My next menstrual period…

  Please God, let it show up right on schedule: a week from tomorrow, Friday, the twenty-fifth…

  She decided not to tell Ryan. Not yet. Not until she found out for certain either way.

  He had enough on his mind. There was no reason to worry him with this, too—especially if it turned out to be a false alarm.

  That night, when he came to her, she behaved no differently than the other nights. She opened her arms to him. They made love—safely, using a condom.

  And when he fell into an exhausted sleep, she held him close, felt his heart beating against her own, and told herself that everything was going to work out just fine.

  The next day, Friday, Ronni got home early for once. She pulled into the driveway at a little after five. By five-thirty, she'd thrown on a big sweater and some jeans. She was staring into the freezer, trying to decide which Marie Callendar delicacy to call dinner when the doorbell chimed.

  It was Drew, standing on the front step with his hands stuffed in the pockets of a red-and-black bomber jacket, his cute nose red from the cold.

  "Ronni, I really need to talk to you, and since you never come over to see us, I decided I better come and see you."

  Kids, she thought with the usual admiring amusement. They always faced directly what adults tried to sidle around. She did need to make more of an effort to get together with the children, to get to know them better, to start getting them accustomed to the idea of having her in their day-to-day lives. But she knew that Lily would resist her efforts. And she'd been putting off forcing the issue, hiding behind her own busy schedule, telling herself she'd stop in at the main house one of these days very soon.

  Drew shivered and hunched up his shoulders. "Ronni. It's cold out here." His breath plumed on the air.

  She stepped back. "You'd better come in then, hadn't you?" She led him to the kitchen, where he took off his jacket and hung it neatly over the back of a chair.

  Then he sat down and looked around. "I guess you have to start cooking soon, huh?"

  "As a matter of fact, I was just looking in the freezer, trying to decide what to have."

  "Grandma's making a roast. With mashed potatoes and carrots. You like roast?"

  "Roast is great. Did you tell your grandma that you were coming over here?"

  A frown. "Oh. No. I forgot. I'd better call her, huh?"

  She gestured at the phone on the wall by the sink. He went to it and dialed. "It's ringing," he said after a moment, then, "Grandma? It's me." He listened. "Well," he said, "that's what I called for, so you would know where I am. I'm over at Ronni's. I'll be back in a little while… No, it's okay. Ronni doesn't mind." He put the mouthpiece under his chin and asked seriously, "Am I bothering you?"

  "No, not at all."

  "Did you hear that, Grandma? She said, no, not at all… Yeah, okay. I won't stay very long. And you know what? Ronni hasn't had dinner yet, and she really likes roast." Ronni tried not to cringe as he asked, "Can I invite her?" He listened some more, then instructed, "Hold on." He spoke to Ronni. "She says you're too busy to come over and you have lots of things to do."

  Poor Lily, Ronni thought with a moderate degree of irony. Forced into a corner by a clever nine-year-old. Ronni felt a little sorry for her.

  But not that sorry.

  "Here, let me talk to her." Ronni held out her hand. Drew passed her the phone. "Hi, Lily."

  Lily's reply was cautiously polite. "Hello. How are you?"

  "I'm just fine. And you?"

  "Fine."

  "Good. And thank you so much for inviting me. I would love to come. We'll be over in a few minutes. How's that?"

  "Oh, well, I—"

  "Did you need to talk to Drew again?"

  "I don't … no. No, that won't be necessary."

  "Is there anything you'd like me to brin
g?"

  "No. No, there's nothing."

  "See you in a few minutes, then."

  "Yes, all right…"

  Ronni hung the phone back on the wall. Drew had already plunked himself down in the chair again and was sitting with his legs spread, his hands gripping the edge of the chair between his knees. He grinned. "She'll get used to you. Eventually."

  "Well. That's really good to know."

  The grin faded. "She still misses my mom."

  Ronni spoke softly—and honestly. "I'll bet you do, too."

  "Yeah." He shrugged, looked down at his hands. "But my mom is gone, you know?"

  "It's … one of the hardest things, I think, to lose your mom. I lost mine when I was seven."

  He looked up again, his eyes wary and hopeful at the same time. "Your mom died, like mine?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "What about your dad?"

  "He died a few years ago."

  "But after you were all grown-up, right?"

  "Yes."

  "My dad lost both of them—his mom and his dad—when he was real little."

  "I know. He told me."

  "We've got a lot of lost moms around here, Ronni."

  She'd never really thought of it that way, but Drew was right. "We certainly do."

  "You did okay, without your mom, didn't you?"

  "Yes. But I missed her a lot."

  "And my dad did okay."

  "Yes, he did. He did wonderfully."

  Drew put his weight forward onto his hands, then rocked back. "So do you want to know what I had to talk to you about?"

  "Yes, I do. Very much."

  "It's about helping my dad. To raise the money he needs for the hospital." His hair had fallen over his forehead. She couldn't resist. She moved forward, reached out, brushed it back from his face. He let her do that, but then demanded, "Are you listening to me, Ronni?"

  She slid into the chair opposite him, thinking, If Ryan and I had a child, could he possibly be as wonderful as this one?

  "Ronni, you look funny. Are you gonna cry?"

  "Of course not."

  "Then are you listening?"

  "I am."

  "I've already talked to the principal at my school. She says they don't allow fund-raising there, except to bring in money for school things, you know?"

  Ronni nodded.

  "So I've been trying to think of something I could do, you know, to help? Something that can't be at school. I thought about selling lemonade and those bake-sale things and car washes. The high school kids do car washes a lot. But people don't want lemonade in the winter. And I'm not in high school. And how would I get all the stuff to make cookies? I mean, it's a problem that I'm only nine."

  Ronni really wanted to grab him and hug him. But she didn't. She knew this was serious business. "Yes, I see what you mean."

  "And I want to help my dad, not bother him. I don't even want him to know what I'm doing until it's all done. I want to go out and get the money. Lots of money. Maybe a hundred dollars or something. And then I want to just give it to him. I want it to be a surprise. You know?"

  "I do. Yes, I understand perfectly."

  "But Ronni, I have to admit. I'm gonna need an adult to help me with this. And Grandma has to watch Griff and Lizzy. I know you're real busy, taking care of sick kids and all, but you have some time Saturdays, don't you? And Sundays?"

  She admitted, "Yes, I do."

  "Well good, 'cause I was thinking. I bet we could get a table and set it up outside the Superserve Mart. They let people do that. For Girl Scout cookies and Jerry's Kids and stuff like that. We could sit out there. And we could talk to people, just a couple hours, you know, on Saturdays and Sundays? You could wear one of those white coats."

  "A lab coat?"

  "Yeah. So they would know you're a doctor. You could even wear that thing around your neck."

  "My stethoscope…"

  "Yeah. A stethoscope. And you wouldn't have to do that much, I promise. Just be there. I would stand by the big glass doors and catch the people while they were going in and out. And I would tell them about the new wing and how we really need money and they could just give a dollar or even fifty cents if they wanted to. We could have a big glass jar for that, you know? Or if they want to write a check, they can do that, too. I copied the stuff from the paper, about what to write on the check when you make a donation." He stopped, dragged in a breath and looked at her with burning eyes. "Ronni, don't tell me it's a dumb idea. Don't tell me I'm a kid and not to worry about it. Just tell me you'll help me and you won't tell my dad."

  She stared at him. He had never looked so much like a miniature version of his father as he did at that moment.

  "Ronni, will you do it?"

  "Have you told your grandmother about this?"

  He bounced impatiently in the chair. "No, not yet. I was waiting. To talk to you first."

  "I see."

  "I just want to know. Will you help me or not?"

  "I would have talk to your grandmother first, to get her okay."

  "I know. I said that. We could talk to her tonight."

  "It's going to be cold," she warned, "sitting out in front of the Superserve Mart in February, and it'll probably rain."

  "So? We'll wear jackets."

  "And it's not always easy, asking people for money. Sometimes they're rude. And most of the time they say no."

  "But sometimes they say yes. And that's what I'll think about. Making them say yes. I'll tell them it's only fifty cents or a dollar. Or even a quarter. If they can just give a quarter, that will be great. And if they say no, I'll tell them thank you, anyway."

  She couldn't keep herself from smiling. "It sounds like you've given this a great deal of thought."

  "I have. Say yes, Ronni. Please."

  "Let's talk to your grandma and see what she says."

  "That means yes, if Grandma says it's okay, right?"

  Ronni hid her smile. "No, you don't. We talk to your grandmother, see what she says, then I'll make my decision."

  "Oh, all right—and we can't tell her in front of Griff or Lizzy."

  "We can't?"

  "No, because then they might say something to my dad, and that would ruin everything. We'll have to wait till after dinner. We'll let them watch Aladdin, or something. And then you, me and Grandma will talk."

  Lily was cool but polite through dinner. She asked Ronni twice how her condo was coming along. The message seemed pretty clear to Ronni: When will it be finished so you can move there and away from my son-in-law?

  Ronni resolutely took Lily's questions at face value. She joked about her troubles with the paper-hanger and her current quandary over window treatments.

  "I think I'll end up going with wood blinds throughout. They're simple and attractive, and they even have some insulation value, I understand."

  Lily allowed stiffly, "With the right valance, a wood blind can be very nice."

  "I think I'll skip valances. They have that little carved strip at the top. That's enough for me."

  With precise movements, Lily cut herself another bite of roast. "Well, as long as you choose what you like. After all, you do live alone. So you've no one to please but yourself."

  Ronni sipped from her water glass, thinking, Lily, we do need to talk. But what would she say?

  I won't be living alone for long, Lily. Ryan and I… What?

  We haven't actually discussed our plans yet, but we are in love and…

  No. That wouldn't work. She couldn't say much at all to Lily until she and Ryan had figured a few things out. He was the one she needed to talk to.

  And in spite of all the pressure he was under, they really ought to find the time to do that soon.

  Within a week or two, they might have to find the time. If she took that second test and it came out positive.

  "Are you awright, Ronni?" Lisbeth was staring at her.

  "I'm fine, honey."

  "You look funny. Kind of sick."

  "W
ell, I'm not. Honestly."

  Lily warned sharply, "Eat your carrots, Lisbeth."

  Lisbeth made a face, but then dutifully speared a slice of carrot on the end of her fork.

  After the meal, all three children helped to clear the table. As Ronni watched little Griff scrape his plate and set it carefully on the drain board, she couldn't help but admire the job Lily was doing. Ryan's children had lost their mother and didn't spend enough time with their father. Still, all three of them seemed happy, full of enthusiasm and reasonably well-behaved—because of their grandmother, who provided consistency and stability, not to mention love and support. A full-time, attentive caregiver meant a lot to a young child.

  How happy would those children be if their grandmother moved out? If they had a too-busy father and a doctor for a stepmother and they ended up in day care until seven or eight at night?

  How happy would a newborn baby be, in the same situation?

  They weren't easy questions to consider.

  But they might have to be considered, if—

  No. Ronni said to herself. Stop this. Take a page from the twelve-step programs: one day at a time.

  She picked up Griffin's plate, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher.

  "You don't have to do that," Lily said.

  "I don't mind, really."

  Drew said, "Time for a movie."

  "Yeah!" Griffin exclaimed. "Lion King, yeah!"

  "No, I want Aladdin," said Lisbeth.

  "Lion King!"

  "Aladdin."

  Lily cut in. "Children. Stop bickering. Or it will be bath time right now."

  "I have an idea," said Drew in a voice clearly intended to entice. "How about Land Before Time, Part Two?"

  Griffin wrinkled up his nose—then grinned. "Yeah!"

  Lisbeth gave in, too. "Oh, all right."

  Drew led the younger ones into the other room, leaving Lily and Ronni alone. Ronni began rinsing another plate.

  Lily looked on. As Ronni bent to prop the plate in the dishwasher's lower rack, she slid Ryan's mother-in-law an oblique glance—a glance she immediately regretted. The older woman's expression was far from friendly.

  "I really couldn't tell you what time Ryan will be home tonight." As she spoke, Lily edged in at the sink, elbowing Ronni aside.