Pregnant Nurse, New-Found Family

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Pregnant Nurse, New-Found Family Page 7

by Lynne Marshall


  “Nothing wrong with my blood pressure. Could you pass the salsa, please?”

  Beth chomped down on a tortilla chip and waited for the right moment to approach a sensitive topic.

  “Have you thought any more about moving into the senior housing unit?”

  Ruth stopped the fork halfway to her mouth. “I’m only sixty-two. I’m not ready to give up my independence.”

  “You don’t have to give up your independence to live there, Ma.” Beth clasped her hair behind both ears and leaned forward, hoping her earnestness would come through. “You just won’t have the burden of keeping up a yard, and house taxes, and all the other expenses of that old, drafty house of yours now that Dad’s gone.” She resorted to making the cajoling face she’d learned as a child. “And you wouldn’t have to work any more, which means you could volunteer even more time.” Beth scratched her nose. “Ma, you should at least go and look at one. You might be surprised.” Her father had died suddenly four years before, leaving only a small insurance policy and an unpaid mortgage.

  Ruth nibbled on a bit of rice. “I’ll think about it.”

  They finished their lunch in silence. When the check came, Beth threw some money down and broached an even touchier subject. “Ma, do you need some cash? Are you OK until the first of the month?” She held three twenty-dollar bills in her hand in readiness.

  Ruth eyed the cash with a look of shame. They both knew her job at the local department store chain didn’t come close to covering her expenses. And the monthly social security check hardly made up for the rest. “It seems I am a little short again this month.”

  Beth passed the bills to her mom, who took them and patted her daughter’s hand lovingly. “Thank you, Bethany, dear. What would I do without you?”

  Beth took a deep breath and pushed down the heaviness that always seemed to sit on her chest when she dealt with her mother’s stubbornness. Giving Ruth money always

  Now, however, with her pregnancy, she’d need to save all the extra money she could. Maybe she should look for a third job. Neal had bought himself and his girlfriend a whole new wardrobe using her charge cards, and had ruined her credit record. It was all Beth could do to pay off the interest on the card each month. The balance never seemed to change. But hiring a lawyer and pursuing the issue through the small claims court would only put her deeper in debt.

  She’d learned her lesson, and she would never depend on a man again. Would Gavin offer to help out with the baby, or would she have to demand it? She’d find out more about where he stood on the issue when she saw him later today.

  No one had been more surprised than Beth when Gavin told her he was taking her and Patrick to the Lakers Game that evening. More than pleased, she even wore purple in honor of the Los Angeles basketball team.

  They entered the cavernous Staples Center to a whirr of noise, bright light and music so loud she couldn’t hear herself think, let alone discuss anything personal with Gavin.

  Patrick was so excited he could hardly contain himself. Gavin maintained a firm grasp on his shoulder to keep him from bouncing off the walls. And when Julius led them down, down and down almost to the main floor to where their seats were, she joined the excitement and had to pinch herself to make sure she hadn’t gone to heaven.

  What was Gavin’s angle? Why invite her somewhere where it would be impossible to discuss their situation? Maybe it was more about being a gentleman. The tickets had fallen in his lap, and he hadn’t wanted to stand her up. Could he be that considerate?

  She glanced at him while he helped Patrick take off his jacket so his bright purple and gold jersey could be seen. Something about the tender gesture touched her heart. Gavin was a good man and father. Her pregnancy had been a surprise, but maybe she’d lucked out on Gavin being the father.

  Looking at Patrick’s bright eyes, and sensing her own enthusiasm about seeing her first live Lakers game, she let the pregnancy topic drop from her mind. She and Patrick high-fived and stomped their feet when the sports announcer welcomed the crowd to the game. Glancing around the arena, she realized she was surrounded by TV, movie, and pop stars, and worked hard not to stare. Patrick poked her in the ribs every time their team made a basket so she’d remember to jump up and cheer with him. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she would have done it without his prodding.

  Gavin grinned at her a lot, and she beamed back, thoroughly enjoying the game and the company.

  During half-time, Julius offered to take Patrick to the concession stand for snacks. So far the evening had been going well. After they’d left, she gazed at Gavin, who had a hesitant look on his face, and she was reminded that theirs wasn’t a normal date. They had a pressing topic to hash out. She tried not to let it ruin her fun night. As if reading her mind, he didn’t broach the subject of her pregnancy. Instead

  After the game, Julius dropped everyone off at Gavin’s house, where Beth had parked. Patrick had fallen asleep, and Gavin stood holding him in his arms in his driveway. She thanked both of the men profusely and attempted to make a quick getaway.

  “Beth,” Gavin called out in a strained whisper before she could take a step. “Why don’t you come upstairs for a while?”

  Julius gave a quick knowing glance at Beth, but covered it well before he drove off. “I’ll see you, man.”

  “Hey, thanks again, Jules.”

  Beth made a faux smile and swallowed back a sudden knot of nerves, then followed Gavin up the walkway.

  Once he’d put Patrick to bed, he joined her in the huge Spanish-style living room. He got as far as the archway, snapped his fingers and trotted off to the kitchen. She heard water run and assumed he was filling the kettle. Her nerves jangled more. Rather than sit there and feel edgy, she followed him into the kitchen.

  He’d taken two mugs from the cupboard, and turned and leaned his narrow hips against the counter. With folded arms and a decisive glance, he went straight to the point. “You laid some astounding news on me last night. I still don’t know what to say.”

  “I’m still in shock, too.” Her heart sped up, and she found it hard to meet his gaze.

  “Have you changed your mind about keeping the baby?”

  “No.” Why would he ask that? Did he want her to end

  After seeing her reaction, he scraped his jaw as if trying to think of a good way to say whatever else was on his mind. “Now, don’t get upset, but I feel like I need to ask.”

  She straightened, cocked her head and trained a curious look his way, feeling the need to prepare for an insult.

  He lifted his brows, and on an inhalation said, “Are you sure I’m the father?”

  Anger flashed in her chest, accompanied by a rush of heat flaming up her neck and onto her cheeks. The kettle boiled and whistled. Ire sparked from her stare, which she flicked away from him while he poured steaming water over the teabags with a steady hand.

  His accusation stung to her core. She counted to ten and tried to keep her voice down. “You’re the only man I’ve been with since my divorce last year.”

  He stopped pouring and glanced at her.

  “If you want to do a DNA test when the baby’s born, it’s fine with me.” She brushed him off with a wave of the hand.

  He dipped a teabag and handed her the mug. “Look, I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  She took it, biting her lip. Strained silence ensued while they both pretended to be unnaturally interested in their tea.

  OK, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt. He wasn’t running away from the situation, he was just asking the questions foremost on his mind. Gavin needed to wrap his brain around the situation just as much as she did. She blew over her mug and took a tentative sip. After composing herself, she searched for an excuse to leave.

  He looked uncomfortable, as if he’d give anything to take back what he’d insinuated, but she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook.

  “If you don’t mind,” she said, “I’m really tired and should be going now.”
r />   He stared at her in deep thought, his lips drawn into a straight line. “Then we’ll talk more about this soon.”

  Dreading another awkward conversation with Gavin, she took one more sip of tea and handed him the mug. “I guess it’s something we can’t avoid. But, listen, thanks for asking me to the game tonight. Despite the last fifteen minutes, I’ve had a good time.”

  Tension broke from his face. “I’m glad I did something right.” He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  She nodded, softening the slightest bit. “Patrick’s a great kid.”

  “Agreed.”

  When they reached the front door, Beth turned quickly and said goodnight.

  Gavin nodded and reiterated, “We’ll talk more soon.”

  As she walked to her car, she went over his words. He’d said he hadn’t meant to insult her, but he sure as hell had.

  On Monday morning, Beth dove right into work and tried to keep Gavin out of her mind. Would he ever think of their baby in the same way he thought about his son?

  Doubt ushered in a wave of anxiety. First she had to make it through the first trimester. So far, so good. Other than being tired and having mild morning sickness, she hadn’t had anything to worry about. No spotting. No cramping. Nothing unusual.

  Beth finished the last intradermal injection of venom into the soft skin of the inside of her patient’s forearm. Her forty-year-old male patient had been stung by something three weeks ago. The reaction had been fierce. His face and neck had swollen up and he’d become dizzy, according to the history on his chart.

  Now it was Beth’s job to discover which stinging insect it might have been by giving him incremental injections of diluted venom from the honeybee, yellow jacket, wasp, white-faced hornet and yellow hornet. So far he hadn’t reacted to the lower dilutions. The trick was to catch any response before it had a chance to spread to full-blown anaphylaxis. She eyed the quick-acting antihistamine and vial of epinephrine in readiness nearby.

  Dr Mehta tapped Beth on the shoulder.

  “Yes?” She turned her head toward her boss.

  “They want you in the emergency room. A teenager needs asthma training.”

  “Why didn’t they ask the nurse educator?”

  “Dr Riordan specifically asked for you,” Dr Mehta said. “Go ahead. I’ll have one of the other nurses finish up here.”

  What was Gavin up to now?

  She went to the cupboard for the training tray filled with demonstration inhalers and grabbed some literature and a video aimed at teenagers with asthma.

  A few minutes later she knocked on the door to the emergency room and peered through the thick plate-glass window. Without the code, she couldn’t let herself in. Carmen pushed something under the counter, the door buzzed and opened, and she waved her in. Beth approached

  “The kid is in room five.” Carmen’s shrill voice cut through the noise. She motioned for Beth to come closer. “He’s been in here four or five times in the last two months. Totally non-compliant.” She squinted and spoke intently. “Gavin’s afraid he’ll just ignore us if we send him to another department for retraining.” Carmen forced an unnatural smile. “He decided to bring the mountain to Mohammed,” she said, giving Beth the once-over and chuckling at an apparent private joke. “Or, in your case, it’s more like a hill than a mountain.”

  Beth took the chart from Carmen’s hand and read: “Mohammed Jackson, 18 y/o African-American male. Admitting diagnosis: uncontrolled asthma.”

  She strode across the ER to the room while preparing what she intended to say to the patient. At that exact moment, as if by radar, Gavin backed out of the adjacent room in mid-sentence about the need for a spinal tap.

  “Excuse me just a second,” he said to the family in the room. “Why don’t you talk it over, and I’ll be right back?” He snagged Beth’s hand and led her back to the nurses’ station. “Let me fill you in on Mohammed.” He nodded toward room five where the patient waited, and stared into her eyes as though nothing bad had happened last night. “He’s laid down so much scar tissue from not treating his asthma that his lung capacity is probably three-quarters of what it should be for a guy his age. I wanted to admit him to the hospital, but he refuses.” He gave Beth a tense smile.

  “Why didn’t you call the respiratory therapy educator?”

  “Because I wanted you.” He stared deeper into her eyes for a few intense seconds, sending a blood rush from her head to her toes. He wanted her. “To explain things to him. And when you’re done, I need to talk to you again.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond before he walked away.

  “Well, speaking of non-compliant, have you gotten your EpiPen yet?” she called after him. He ignored her. It figured.

  Beth had to gather her thoughts after Gavin had blown her off course. She wanted to hold onto her anger, but being around him made it almost impossible. He was simply looking out for one of his patients. She stood outside the patient room and read the chart.

  “Gavin?” Carmen called out.

  “Yo.”

  “The possible appendicitis is next.”

  He took the chart she handed to him and asked, “Is it my imagination, or is it extra busy for a Monday morning?”

  “It’s always busy in the ER,” Carmen sang. “You know the motto—treat and street. Now, hop to it!”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Off he went.

  Beth entered the room, introduced herself, and did a quick patient assessment. She extended her hand to shake his. A lanky arm connected to an IV cautiously took it.

  Beanpole thin in the hospital gown, Mohammed looked younger than his age. An IV piggyback of cortisol was connected to the main IV to help decrease the inflammation in his lungs. A small machine delivered medication to open his airway through a long thick tube and mouthpiece. So Respiratory Therapy had already been here. Gavin really hadn’t needed to send for her.

  The patient “sipped” every few seconds on the nebulized medicine coming from the contraption as if smoking a peace pipe then held his breath and coughed, repeating the process over and over. He knew the routine.

  “I gather you’ve been having some trouble with your asthma,” she said. “Thought I might find out how we can help you today.”

  Gavin tried to conceal his interest in room five after he’d examined his latest patient and ordered a batch of lab tests. He’d hurt Beth’s feelings and it ate at him. He needed to set things straight. He pretended to be involved in reading the chart in his hand while thinking things through.

  Carmen took it from him, turned it right side up and gave it back. “You might be able to read it better this way.”

  What could he do but grin?

  He handed Carmen some doctor’s orders and walked to the other side of the counter where he shuffled through more papers before sneaking a peek at room five, again.

  Shortly, Beth emerged from the patient’s room looking victorious, and Gavin was the lucky recipient of her gorgeously broad smile. Maybe things were looking up.

  “How did it go?” he asked.

  “Really well.” Pride beamed in her eyes.

  Gavin liked that look. He liked it so much he had to shove his hands in his white coat pockets to prevent himself grabbing and planting a deep kiss on her, before asking for her forgiveness. Instead, he smiled sedately.

  They stood by the nurses’ station, grinning awkwardly at each other for a few seconds, until Carmen interrupted.

  “Oh, for crying out loud, people. This is a hospital, not reality TV.”

  With a bright blush on her cheeks, Bethany said, “Mohammed said he’d give the new medical regimen a try.”

  “How’d you do that?”

  “I told him you would foot the bill for all the meds.” She winked at Gavin, gathered her tray and tried to leave the ER.

  He snagged her arm, led her into his office and closed the door. Once inside, he motioned for her to sit. He sat on the edge of his desk to be close to her.

  �
��I need to apologize for what I said last night. It didn’t come out right.”

  She still looked ticked off, with the foot of her crossed leg pumping up and down. “If it’s money you’re worried about, don’t. I won’t bleed you dry. But with diapers, formula, clothes…” She sighed. “I would appreciate help with half of the expenses.”

  “Of course I won’t let you bear the brunt of what we did together.” He reached out and touched her shoulder. “The thing is, I hardly know you—not that I don’t like what I do know about you, but it’s a totally new situation and it all seems so unreal.” Was he over-explaining?

  She softened the slightest bit, but wouldn’t look into his eyes. “I know.”

  “We did use contraception.”

  She slumped in her chair the tiniest bit. “You and I both know condoms are the best option for STD protection, but the statistics are not so great for birth control.”

  He nodded. She definitely had a point. Again, poor judgement. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t change what happened that night. I’d rather you hadn’t gotten pregnant, but I’m not going to let you go through this alone. I want you to see Karen Scott, the best OB doctor at Mercy. Her panel is completely full, but she’ll see you if I ask.”

  Finally, she glanced cautiously at him. Their eyes locked. “Thank you for that. But I should tell you that I’ve gotten this far along in a pregnancy before when I was married, and I wound up miscarrying.”

  “Oh, Beth, I’m so sorry.” Gavin wanted to reach out to her, to touch her hand or shoulder, to find some way of consoling her, but held back. He couldn’t imagine losing a baby, or the devastation it would cause. With an intense desire to alleviate her pain, he only managed to come up with something superficial and lame. “That was probably a fluke. You know, nature taking care of itself.”

  “Twice?”

  They stared at each other. She dared him to come up with another pat answer with eyes so tinged with pain he felt his heart squeeze.

  “In a few weeks all of our worrying may be for nothing,” she said, resignation coloring her tone.

 

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