“I just figured I would tell you in person that Barbara informed me you have the whole next week off with pay.”
“With pay? Are you serious?” I look at her, perplexed.
“I may have mentioned just how many hours you have been working the past few weeks—way over what your salary calls for—and that you were in the hospital as a direct result from working so hard.”
“And they agreed,” I ask, snapping my fingers, “just like that?”
“It didn’t take but a few minutes for them to decide. Maybe they’re afraid you’ll sue,” she laughs out. “Plus, it’s Thanksgiving week. Most of the senior partners will already be off.”
“Damn, it is Thanksgiving already.”
“What are you planning? Are you going to get to see your brother?”
A smile stretches my lips when I think of Bryson. “Yes. He’s actually playing in Dallas on Thanksgiving Day. He won’t have to fly home until the weekend.” I can’t contain the excitement in my voice. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to spend any time with him.
“It’ll do you some good to spend time with him.”
“That reminds me. I have four tickets to the game. Would you and Keith like to come?”
“It’s an afternoon game, right?” At my nod, she taps her finger on her chin as she contemplates. “That would work. We go see my family that night and we’ll spend time with his on Friday.”
“Your family won’t mind?”
“The only thing they’ll mind is not being at the stadium with us. They’ll be so jealous.” She laughs manically. “I can’t wait to rub it in their faces.”
“Are you going to see if Isaac wants the other ticket?” she asks as her hand smooths the covers.
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” I say before taking a sip of orange juice. God yes, I’ve thought about. But I’m too much of a chicken shit to call him. The only way I can keep him off my mind is by concentrating on work and passing out when I get home. Even then, my dreams are plagued by him.
“Then you need to work up the damn courage and call him,” Sarah blurts out.
Startled, I look up at her. “Huh?”
“I’m guessing you didn’t mean to say that out loud?” she replies with a knowing smirk. “You let that man walk out of your life without fighting for him. Is that how you want it to end?”
“No—” A swift knock on the door stops what I’m saying. An older woman in a white coat walks in, followed by Kelsey, my nurse this shift.
“Ms. Kirkpatrick?” At my nod, she extends her hand, grasping mine firmly. “I’m Dr. Tami Hood. I’m the obstetrician on call. How are you feeling this morning?” she asks before looking at the white tablet in her hands.
“Much better. Thank you.”
“If I read the ER report correctly, you were unaware you were pregnant when you were brought in?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you tell me when your last menstrual period was?”
“I’m not really sure.” At her arched brow, I continue. “I’ve been on the shot for about two years. I haven’t had what I would call a normal period since around the second shot. Just some occasional spotting.”
“That is very common with that type of birth control. Did you miss any doses or perhaps get one later than normal?”
“I have it set in my phone the week I’m supposed to get one, so I don’t forget. I just go to a family planning clinic.”
“When was your last dose?”
“In October. I’m not exactly sure of the date. It’s in my phone.” Glancing over at Sarah, I ask, “Did you happen to grab my phone from the office?”
“October is close enough. All the blood work drawn this morning looks better. Your sodium and potassium are on the low range of normal. And your HCG levels are spot on. After one more bag of fluids, you’ll be fine to go home.”
I sigh in relief, and Dr. Hood peers over in question. “No offense, but I’d rather be at home.”
“No offense taken,” she laughs out. “No one wants to be in the hospital if they don’t have to be. Usually my patients aren’t quite so eager to leave, though. Especially first-time parents.”
“When this baby gets here, I’m sure I won’t be in a hurry.”
“I guess that means this will be your first?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s get an internal exam done, then we’ll get an ultrasound and see if we can get a look. From there, I can get a measurement and try to determine how far along you are. Since you don’t know when your last period was, we’ll just get a ballpark. But it’s usually pretty close.”
As the doctor manipulates the bed, Sarah leans over, and asks, “Want me to stay or go?”
“If you’re comfortable, you can stay. Just up here by my head.”
“Trust me, I don’t want see your coochie.” She laughs, reaching over and squeezing my hand.
“Feet in the stir-ups, Ms. Kirkpatrick,” Dr. Hoods says, tapping the heel holder.
Raising my legs, I place my feet in the cool plastic. “Call me Camryn, please. If you’re going to be all up in there,” I wave my hand toward my lower half, “I’d rather be on a first name basis.”
“Okay, Camryn, scoot your bottom to the end of the bed,” she says as she slips on her gloves.
“When was the last time you had sex?”
“October.”
She slides her lube slicked fingers inside, and I squirm at the cold.
“Be glad you have a woman,” Sarah says from my side. “She has small hands. My gynecologist is a man, and I swear he has the hands of a professional basketball player. And not in a good way,” she says with a shiver.
“You two are a hoot. Everything is good on this end. Cervix is completely closed and in normal position.” Dr. Hood stands and strips off the used gloves, throwing them in the nearest trashcan. Rounding the bed, she arranges the blanket, so I’m covered, but raises my hospital gown to bare my belly. As she palpates my abdomen, thoughtful looks cross her face.
“I don’t think we’ll need the internal sono, Kelsey,” she states over her shoulder. “Camryn, you’re a little further along than I was thinking. When you get your birth control shot, do they do a pregnancy test first?” When I shake my head no, she continues. “I figured as much. Let’s see what we have here. This will be a little cold,” she warns before squeezing the gloopy stuff on my lower abdomen. The slight pressure from the probe has me holding my breath and the sudden sound of a fast heartbeat fills the room. When I realize it’s my baby’s heartbeat, tears blur my vision.
“Nice, steady heartbeat.”
“It’s so fast,” Sarah whispers in awe.
“It’s right where it needs to be at one hundred and fifty-three. Babies heart rates are a lot higher than an adult since they are smaller.” Dr. Hood maneuvers the monitor where Sarah and I can see the picture, my eyes riveted to the screen. “Okay, let’s see here,” she mutters, adjusting the controls on the panel. Pointing to one area, she says, “Here’s the head and the body. It looks like you are around twelve weeks.”
After pushing a couple buttons that freeze the image on the monitor, she prints out the first pictures of my baby—the baby I didn’t know I was having, but already love more than anything in the world.
Isaac
My fingers dance over the piano keys, the pain in my heart flowing through the lyrics passing my lips.
“Never knew how much I could hurt,
Until you walked out my life,
Thought I’d always be with you…
Someday you’d be my wife.”
Movement out the corner of my eye breaks my concentration, the words dying off and my fingers slowing. As the last chords fade into nothingness, Brett opens the door to the room.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you, man,” he states, plopping down on the couch on the other side of the room.
“You didn’t. Not really,” I reply, running my hand across the keys, the racket loud in the quiet room.
“Yeah. It still needs work though.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“No. I can’t figure out what I want to say. Or if it would do any good. She was pretty adamant about how she felt,” I huff out, exasperated.
“She’s scared,” he blurts out.
“I know that. I just…shit, I don’t know how to work around it.”
“It’s not you who needs to. It’s her. Unless she faces it, it’ll always be there, lingering in the back of her mind.”
“Fuck, that doesn’t help.”
“What’s her biggest fear?” He stretches his arm across the back of the couch.
“Ugh, me cheating on her.” I wince, not knowing how he’ll take that since his cheating is what caused him to lose Kristen. I glance over at him. He’s looking at the ceiling, head resting on the cushion.
“I fucked up a lot for everyone, didn’t I?” His tone is apologetic, but how the hell do I answer this? When I don’t say anything, he looks over at me.
“I know I fucked up. A lot of things—not just what I had with Kristen. My drinking and shit has fucked with the band. I’m sorry.” I frown at the misery in his voice.
“Brett—”
“You know I haven’t had a drink in two weeks?” he announces. Startled, my head whips over to him.
“Yeah, I know. Shocker,” he says with a self-deprecating smirk.
“What brought this on?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
“I woke up one morning and it just kinda clicked in my head. I’ve been tearing the band apart and destroying myself in the process. Haven’t had a drink since.”
“Brett, I—” He holds a finger up, cutting me off.
“Just let me finish. I did something monumentally stupid and lost the best thing that ever happened to me. You, on the other hand, still have a chance. You haven’t done anything wrong.” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “That sex tape couldn’t have come out at a worse time, but still.”
“I doubt there could have been worse timing,” I grumble. “Actually, I don’t think there could have ever been good timing.”
“Despite it all, you still have a chance. You just have to fight for what you want.”
“Fight, huh? I’m not sure how to go about it. I’m afraid if I push her she’ll tuck tail and run right in the other direction.”
“Forcing your will won’t fly with Camryn. Have you talked to Kristen or Mallory? Or that other girl she hangs out with from work?”
“Sarah? No, I haven’t. But I think that’s a great place to start.” If I can get her on my side, I’ll have a better chance of getting Camryn to give us a chance. Kristen and Mallory would be easy to win over, and Camryn would know that. I need the friend who would be solely looking out for Camryn’s benefit.
“When are you leaving for your brother’s?”
“I got stuck on a flight first thing in the morning.”
“How early?”
“Seven-fifteen.” He winces, and I chuckle. “I’m only bringing a carry-on, so I won’t have to worry about checking my bag.”
“Still, dude, seven-fifteen? In the morning? That’s like the antithesis for a rock star. We don’t get up that damn early. It’s against our nature,” he says with a shudder.
The subtle ding sounds, drawing my attention as the captain’s voice rumbles over the intercom system. Within minutes, we’re landing and departing the plane. As I head toward baggage claim, I turn my phone off airplane mode and make sure the car I scheduled to take me to my brother’s has arrived. As soon as I get confirmation, I head out of the terminal to the black car parked along the curb and settle back against the soft leather. My phone flashes with a voicemail, and I hit the icon before pressing the speaker to my ear. My breath catches when Camryn’s voice comes across the line, soft and uncertain.
“Hey, Isaac. It’s…um, Camryn. I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Bryson’s football game on Thursday. He’s playing here in Dallas. I know it’s short notice and you probably already have plans, but…uh, just let me know if you want the ticket. Okay, bye.”
My hands shake as I dial her back, but it goes straight to voicemail.
“Hey, Red. I’m sorry I missed your call. I just landed in Seattle a few minutes ago. I’m spending Thanksgiving at my brother’s this year. Call me back, please.” I don’t add that I’ll hop on the next plane back to Dallas with even the smallest amount of encouragement from her.
The car pulls in front of my brother’s house, and before I can even get to the front door, my mother is standing there with the door wide open.
“Come in. Come in. How was your flight?” she asks, pulling me into a hug.
“Uneventful.”
“That’s always good. Your brother and Kami are still sleeping. I’ve started breakfast. Go get a cup of coffee.”
Walking into the kitchen, Dad is sitting there reading the newspaper, a steaming cup in front of him. Mom moves back to the stove where she pours the scrambled egg mixture into the pan. The bacon must be in the oven because the smell is making my mouth water.
“Did you have to go grocery shopping when you got here, Mom?” I ask before taking a sip of coffee.
“Of course,” she harrumphs. “All they had was tofu and crap. I mean, seriously, not even eggs. At least the coffee is good.”
“Thank God you’re here, Mom,” my brother says as he shuffles into the room in his t-shirt and pajama pants, hair sticking up in all directions. “I love my wife, but I sure as hell miss your cooking.”
“Kami still sleeping?” I ask, standing up to give my brother a hug. It’s been forever.
“Yeah. She’s worn out.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t keep her up so late.” I smirk. The blush on my brother’s face is almost comical.
“Maybe I’ll have a grandbaby someday,” my mother says, wistful.
“Leave the boy alone. They’ll have a baby when they’re good and ready, not on your timeline,” my dad says from behind the paper, his voice gruff.
“Yeah, Mom,” I pipe in.
“You hush,” she says, pointing the spatula in my direction. “At least your brother is married and hopefully thinking along those lines. What happened to the girl you thought was your ‘one,’ Isaac?”
“We’re having some issues right now,” I evade, shooting my brother a look when he laughs under his breath.
Leaning over, my brother whispers, “Does it have anything to do with the video floating around?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” I murmur, checking to see Mom is engrossed in making sure her eggs are perfect. Dad won’t put down his paper until he has food in front of him as incentive.
“The problems with being a rock star.” He chuckles.
“The past always rears its ugly head at the most inopportune times.”
“It wasn’t recent?” he asks, brows raised.
Shaking my head, I answer, “No. It was the Christmas we were in New York.” He nods, straightening back in his chair
“So, when did you meet the ‘one’?” he asks louder, eyes shifting toward the stove.
“I’ve known her a few years.”
“And you didn’t make a move on her then?” A look of surprise crosses his face.
“I noticed her, but I wasn’t ready to settle down. Camryn’s the type you settle down with,” I say as my mother slides a heaping plate of bacon, eggs, and biscuits in front of me.
“At least you’ll still be close when you do get married. Unlike my other son who had to move as far away as possible while still being within the continental United States. I swear, I’m going to have so many frequent flyer miles coming up here to see my grandbaby, I’ll be able to fly to Hawaii for free.” She laughs out.
“You told them!” comes the outraged cry from the doorway where my sister-in-law is standing. My brother chokes on his coffee at the sound of her voice.
“Told them what, sweetheart?”
He dabs his mouth with a napkin, and tears fill my mother’s eyes.
“About the baby!” Kami says, hands thrown up in exasperation.
Wes stands up, gathering his petite wife in his arms. “I believe she was speaking of a hypothetical baby,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “I didn’t tell our secret. I know you wanted to wait until Thanksgiving Day.”
“Y’all are having a baby!” Mom exclaims, excitement bleeding out of her pores as she rushes over to the couple and embraces them. Kami beams and Wes looks on indulgently. “Tim, we’re having a grandbaby!”
The joy on their faces gives me a warm feeling inside. I want that—to have the woman I love tell me she’s having my baby, the anticipation of telling family and friends our news, but keeping it our secret until we’re ready. I pull my phone out of my pocket and sigh. No new calls from Camryn. If Red thinks I’m giving up now, she’s got another thing coming.
Game on.
Camryn
“Did you enjoy the game?” my brother asks before popping a bite of steak into his mouth.
“It was good. Glad my boys won,” I reply with a wink. The disgruntled look on my brother’s face makes me laugh.
“I’m so happy I have your support, sis.” His voice ringing with sarcasm.
“You know you always have that. And you had two spectacular touchdowns. Your defense just couldn’t stop their passing game.”
He grunts before taking a swig of beer. “Okay, Cam, what’s been going on?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, perplexed.
“Let’s see, you and Isaac were together, then that video made its rounds, and it’s only thanks to you he didn’t get his ass beat over that,” he remarks, pointing his fork in my direction, a stern look on his face.
“I told you it was before we got together,” I groan, rubbing my hands over my face. God save me from overprotective brothers.
“That’s the only thing that saved him,” he grumbles, looking disappointed that he didn’t get to give the beat down that he believes that Isaac deserves. “Then you decide you can’t be together and give him the old heave-ho out the door.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” I challenge.
Down on My Knees Page 13
