Wanted By You

by Steph Nuss

"Two red velvets and a piece of white," Carter said, setting our desserts on the table. "I think Grandpa got busy talking to a couple of people."

  "Oh, he probably did," she laughed, shaking her head. "And men say women talk too much. That man is always yakking about something to somebody."

  We ate our cake and watched the DJ and crew prepare for dancing. When the lights in the ballroom turned low and intimate, guests started moving toward the dance floor. When the DJ made an announcement for Mr. and Mrs. Jennings to take the dance floor for their second first dance, all of us formed a large circle around them and watched as they slow danced to "Unchained Melody."

  I stood in front of Carter with his arms wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me in close to his chest and started slowly swaying us back and forth to the old, classic tune. I was head over heels in love with the oldies, and I couldn’t hear this song without picturing the scene in Ghost that it’s in, when Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore are making pottery and then making love. Once again, butterflies fluttered through my belly when I realized that Carter was pulling another Patrick Swayze move on me, kissing my neck, linking our hands together, and capturing my mouth with his, slowly moving his lips to the sensual strum of music.

  When the song ended, the DJ played another oldie and we started slow dancing alongside other couples. His grandparents winked at us as they glided by, and Bayler and Harper were dancing with a couple of guys I'd met earlier.

  After a few more songs, Carter had me dizzy and out of breath from twirling me around like a pro, dipping me, and spinning me in and out of his arms, showing off his dance moves and earning us a loud, boisterous praise from Grandma Ceci that made the entire ballroom cheer. It was exhilarating and I was dying to get out of my heels, but I loved being in his arms too much to step off the dance floor.

  "You okay?" he teased with a sexy smile. He pulled me in close and started swaying us to another classic tune.

  "Yes. Thank you for fancy dancing with me." I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, and then rested my head on his shoulder as he sang along with Eric Clapton about how wonderful I looked tonight, substituting some of the words to fit my appearance.

  I felt wonderful tonight because he wanted me here with him. His family and their friends had been fun and friendly all night, and the food and drinks were beyond exceptional. A part of me never wanted this night to end, but the other part wanted out of these heels more than anything.

  When the song ended, Carter kept me locked in his embrace, kissing my forehead and gazing into my tired eyes. "It's been a long day. Why don't we head on back to the guesthouse? Get you out of those heels."

  I smiled, completely overjoyed at the idea of freeing my tired feet—and at the fact that he read my mind. I held his hand as we slowly wandered through the ballroom, waving goodbye and saying good night to his family.

  The minute we got back to the guesthouse I sat down on the bed and he knelt down and removed my heels for me. He massaged my feet for a moment and I lay back on the mattress, relishing the feel of his strong hands on my delicate skin. He stood back up and started undressing, and I propped myself up on my elbows and enjoyed the show as he unbuttoned his vest and shirt and pulled his loosened tie over his head. He shrugged out of his vest and shirt with a mischievous grin. He looked sexy in that tux, but he looked even more delectable getting out of it. He kicked off his shoes and began working on his pants, and I felt my mouth starting to water as he lowered his dress pants and boxers at the same time. He pulled his socks off and then crawled onto the bed with me like a predator ready to pounce on its prey, and I was stuck, completely mesmerized by the man wanting to devour every inch of me.

  "You're not naked," he mused, in a deep, delicious voice that made me writhe under his stare.

  "I was too busy watching the show," I said, smiling.

  He rubbed my feet some more and then moved up the bed toward me. "Take that dress off before I rip it off."

  I eagerly unzipped the dress and slid it off. He couldn't rip this dress. My favorite designer made it just for me. The dress fell to my hips, revealing my naked body, and I let it fall to the floor.

  "Much better," he said, fusing our lips together. He lifted me up for a brief second to pull back the bedding and then slipped us under the sheets. He pulled the elastic band from my hair, allowing my red locks to splay across the pillows, and then he leaned down on his elbows and covered me with his body.

  He made me feel like a queen the way he worshipped me in bed. He caressed my face and then he pressed a soft, sweet kiss against my lips. A kiss that quickly turned feverish.

  "I love you," he said, hovering over me.

  I brushed my lips against his again and opened for him because he made me forget. He made me forget about the period I wasn't having. He made me forget about all the scary stuff I read about on the internet. He made me forget about my family history of cancer and what a shame it was and how skinny and pale and cold my mom looked when death finally took her and the rattle of her breathing stopped.

  He made me forget about all of it because he loved me.

  "Carter," I breathed, pressing my lips firmly against his. I slid my hands down his back and hooked my legs around his hips.

  "Yeah, babe?"

  "I will always love you," I said, tangling my fingers in his hair. "Make love to me."

  And he did.

  Numerous times.

  Until we passed out from exhaustion.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ellyson

  "One twenty over eighty-one," the nurse said, removing the blood pressure cuff from my arm. She put her fingers to my wrist and felt for my pulse, then scribbled the information in my chart. "Okay, when was the first day of your last period?"

  The first day of my last period. "Um, I'm not exactly sure of the date, but it was the second to last Sunday in August."

  "And are you still taking your oral contraceptive?"

  "Yes."

  "Alright. Dr. Walsh will be in in just a moment. She'll talk to you and then have you put on the gown for your pelvic exam, okay?"

  "Okay. Thanks," I said, and she left the room.

  It was late in the afternoon on Monday when Carter and I met up at my doctor's office for my appointment. He'd been extra sweet today. He made us breakfast in bed. He sent a beautiful vase of flowers to my office. He brought the girls and me lunch and dessert from the bakery a few blocks down from my clinic. But all of it just made me feel even worse about today, and about making him worry about me.

  "I can't believe your blood pressure isn't elevated right now," he said, standing next to the bed I sat on. "I think mine went through the roof when we walked in here."

  "Yeah."

  "Did you hear back from Connie today?" he asked.

  "Yeah, she said the penthouse that's for sale has already had an offer on it," I said, but I was sullen. The last thing on my mind right now was our future home. There may or may not even be a future for us … or, for me, anyway.

  He shrugged and shot me his charming smile. "Well, that doesn't mean we can't make an offer. We loved it when we walked through it yesterday. That's our dream home."

  "I'm sorry, but our dream home is the last thing I'm worried about right now," I said, looking away from him.

  "Elly—"

  The door opened up and Dr. Walsh walked in, carrying my chart. I'd been seeing her for as long as I could remember. She knew my parents well, helped my mom through her cancer, and had her own fight with breast cancer a couple of years ago and won. She was a survivor, someone who gave others hope. She was the one person I trusted the most with my health.

  "Good afternoon," she cooed, smiling back and forth between Carter and me. "And who do we have here, Ellyson?"

  I laughed at her motherly disposition. "This is my boyfriend, Carter Jennings. Carter, this is Dr. Susan Walsh."

  "It's nice to meet you," he said, shaking her hand.

  "It's a nice to meet you, too, Carter," she sai
d, winking at him. She turned back to me and leaned against the counter. "So, tell me what's been going on? You've had a couple of missed periods."

  "Yes, I've missed my last two periods," I said. I glanced over at Carter and linked my fingers with his. I felt awful for just snapping at him when he was doing everything in his power to make me feel better and be supportive. "And we've taken four home pregnancy tests and they've all come back negative."

  "Okay," she said, scanning the information in my chart. "Well, everything I see here looks good. Have you had any other problems? Any abdominal pain? Any abnormal discharge? Any bowel or bladder issues; painful urination? Any pain during sexual intercourse?"

  "Um," I furrowed my brow, thinking about all her questions, and remembered my stomach cramp. "Now that I think about it, I've had an intermittent stomach cramp for a few months now."

  "Okay, well first I want you to slip into that gown and we'll do a pelvic exam and see if there's anything abnormal going on, and then I'll have a nurse come in and take a blood sample. I want to check your hormone levels and see where they're at. Sound good?"

  "Yep."

  "Any questions before I go so you can change?"

  "I don't think so," I said.

  "Actually, I have a question," Carter said abruptly.

  "Yes, Carter?"

  "Is there a chance that she could still be pregnant even though the tests …"

  "Of course," she said with a confident smile. "The blood tests will show whether or not Elly's pregnant. Sometimes home pregnancy tests aren't able to pick up on the pregnancy hormone. The tests only take a small sample of urine, so there's always the chance of getting a false negative. We'll test some of her blood and it will tell us whether or not she's pregnant."

  "Okay. Thanks," he said, nodding.

  Dr. Walsh exited the room and I jumped down from the table and started undressing in silence. It pissed me off that he wasn't letting this pregnancy thing go. Yes, it would be wonderful if I turned up pregnant because babies are beautiful and all would be right with the world again, but I had an intuition I wasn't. I felt the same nauseous feeling I had when we found out about my mom's cancer, like she was trying to warn me from the grave.

  I slipped my arms through the gown and tried tying it in the back with shaky hands, but Carter quickly took over.

  "Here, let me," he said, tying it in a bow.

  I sat back down on the table and looked at him. He was staring at me with worry in his eyes. He moved closer to me.

  "Babe," he said, cradling my face in his hands. "I've been going crazy all day today worrying about this appointment. I know you're probably not pregnant, but the only thing that's been keeping me sane today is the thought of you carrying our baby. I thought talking about something else would help distract us, but I'm sorry I brought up the house. It's not important right now. You're what's important. Talk to me. What's going on in there?"

  He lightly tapped my forehead with his index finger and I smiled weakly. That's what I wanted. I didn't want the sweet gestures or distractions. I wanted us talking about it. "I'm scared. I feel sick. Like, the same awful feeling I had when we came here with my mom and found out she was sick. I know that's negative thinking. I know that I should be more optimistic, but I'd rather be realistic than optimistic right now."

  "Okay, then we'll be realistic," he said, kissing my forehead. "I feel like my stomach is playing tug-a-war with my chest."

  "Ditto," I said, resting my head against his chest.

  A few minutes later, Dr. Walsh came back in accompanied by a nurse. She went through her regular routine, listening to my heart and lungs and palpating my throat, breasts, and armpits for any lumps. She didn't find any. Then she pulled the stirrups out, had me slide to the edge of the table, and covered my thighs with a paper drape.

  "Okay, Elly, now relax and let your legs fall open," she said, her voice soothing as always. "You're gonna feel a little bit of pressure as I insert my finger into your vagina."

  I nodded and held on tight to Carter's hand as he stood at the head of the bed with me. I looked up at him and he mouthed "I love you," which had to be the sweetest thing he'd done all day. Saying he loved me during my pelvic exam.

  Dr. Walsh pulled up my gown to reveal my stomach and started gently pressing her other hand over my lower abdomen. "Okay, your uterus doesn’t feel enlarged, so that's good." She moved her hand to the left lower quadrant of my abdomen and applied a little pressure as her fingers inside of me moved to the same side. I watched as she moved to the left and applied the same kind of pressure. My heart was beating in my ears, but I kept reminding myself to relax; she couldn't do her job if I was tense. But then I saw a slight frown crease her forehead as she moved over to the right again and I knew my blood pressure wasn't so level anymore. "Do you feel any pain when I push down in this area?"

  I focused my attention on the spot as she applied more pressure to the same area where I had felt cramping, and I felt a pain flare inside my belly that made me want to cry. "Ohmigawd, y-yeah. Way worse than a cramp. W-why? What's going on?"

  "Elly, relax," she said, calmly. She moved her hands to the opposite side again. "Any pain on this side when I do the same thing?"

  "No," I said, shaking my head. "Just the other side. What's wrong?"

  She pulled her hand out of me and slid my gown back down over my stomach. Carter lifted me back into a sitting position and kissed my forehead. Dr. Walsh was facing the counter and talking to the nurse who was scribbling something in my chart.

  "Okay, I'll let radiology know right away," the nurse said before leaving the room.

  What? Radiology? That can't be good.

  Dr. Walsh turned back around calmly. "Okay, Elly, so, everything looks and feels normal except for your left ovary. I palpated what I believe to be a mass on your left ovary, which would explain the pain you felt in that area. Now, a lot of women around your age get cysts on their ovaries. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything’s wrong; the cysts usually disappear on their own. But since you've missed a couple of periods and you're taking oral contraceptives, I'm concerned, and I think we should look into it further. A mass on the ovaries can elevate your hormones and disrupt your period. So, I've ordered an ultrasound of your ovaries. The nurse will be back in to take a blood sample and get those tests underway, and then we'll send you down to radiology for the ultrasound. Okay?"

  I nodded, in complete shock. The word "mass" kept running through my mind, along with the thought of how ovarian cancer was considered the "whisper killer" because its symptoms were usually mild or easily mistaken for other illnesses, so that by the time it was found, it was usually too late. I could have ovarian cancer.

  Carter shook his head. "So, will the ultrasound be able to tell us whether or not the mass is cancerous?"

  "No, not exactly," she said. "The ultrasound will be able to show us the size and shape of the mass, as well as what type it is. It could be a fluid-filled sac like most common cysts, or it could be a mass made up of solid tissue, which is more worrisome." She walked over to us and patted him on the shoulder and smiled at me. "Look, there's no need to worry right now. Once we get the ultrasound done and the test results back, I’ll go over them with you and we'll go from there."

  "What does go from there mean? Are we talking surgery, or a wait-and-see kind of thing? I'd rather not have a mass on my ovary, whether it's cancerous or not," I said.

  "Depending on the test results, we can discuss your options."

  "Okay."

  When the door shut behind her, Carter wrapped his arms around me tight. My heart raced with panic, and the pain she'd found felt more noticeable now. I rested my head on his shoulder as he stroked my back to comfort me, but with each of his strokes, I felt like I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

  "Elly, talk to me," he whispered, kissing my forehead.

  "I don't know what to say," I said shakily. "I just want it out of me. I don't want a mass inside of me, and I'm confused. Like, what's
the difference between a cyst, a mass, and a tumor? Are they all the same thing? I don't know. And the pain feels like it's getting worse ever since she found it."

  "I don't know if there's a difference either," he said. "But, regardless of what the tests say, I'm sure they'll take it out if that's what you want. I just wish they'd be able to tell us more clearly whether or not it's cancer."

  "I know. Me too."

  The nurse came back in with her kit to take my blood. She wrapped a band around my arm to find a vein and then the needle pinched my skin and slid into my vein. I watched the vial fill with my dark red blood as I opened and closed my fist. When it was full, she removed the needle, packed everything back up in her kit and left the room.

  * * *

  Once the ultrasound was done, I was a bundle of nerves waiting for Dr. Walsh to come back into the room. I couldn't read anything on the computer screen while the radiologist moved the probe around in my vagina. She had a mean poker face, and when I asked her about what she found, she just told me, "Dr. Walsh will give you the findings," which I interpreted as, "Good luck fighting that massive, cancerous tumor I just found."

  I felt like I was going to throw up.

  "Okay, Ellyson, Dr. Walsh will see you now," the nurse said. "If you just want to follow me, I'll take you to her conference room."

  Conference room?

  I nodded and Carter took my hand and led me out of the room. We followed the nurse through the hall, but I couldn't even feel myself walking. I felt like I was floating as panic tightened my chest and my breathing became more irregular. Conference rooms in hospitals were not a good thing. I learned that a long, long time ago with Mom.

  We turned the corner and I stopped. Through three large windows, I saw Dr. Walsh sitting with two other white coats and tears immediately gathered in my eyes.

  In hospitals, conference rooms were hell.

  "Elly," Carter said, trying to sound soothing. He wrapped his arms around me. "Let's just go see what they have to say."

  "It's bad. They wouldn't have us meeting in a conference room with other doctors if it was nothing."