“Man down!” The anesthesiologist yelled when Nick collapsed.
An operating tech went over to help Nick while I reached over the curtain and showed the baby to Tara.
I checked the time. Nine forty five. I wondered how Chloe was coming along.
It took me another twenty minutes to stitch Tara up.
“Congratulations,” I told her as I left the OR. “I’ll come by and see you later.”
I washed up and headed over to check on Chloe. I could hear some moaning and crying as I walked in.
“Just in time, Doctor,” Candy said as I walked in.
The baby’s head was peeking out. I pulled up the stool and helped coax out the baby.
“A couple big pushes, Chloe, and your baby will be here,” I said in a reassuring tone.
Brett was at the head of the bed wiping Chloe’s forehead with a washcloth. He was so sweet and tender with her. I wanted what they had. Genuine, true love. One day I’ll have that with someone special. Someone who sticks with me through good and bad.
“It’s a girl,” I announced after Chloe’s last big push.
I checked the clock again. Nine fifty-nine p.m. Chloe may have got her man, but Tara had her baby first.
And the score was tied up.
Chloe 1 – Tara 1
Chapter 10
The weekend went by fast. After the hectic work week and two deliveries on Saturday night, I was exhausted. I spent Sunday catching up on my favorite shows that I’d Tivo’d during the week. Sunday night, curiosity got the best of me, and while eating takeout Chinese food, I Googled Brad Whitford.
He had a Facebook account, but it was private so I couldn’t see anything except his profile picture. Which was a great picture by the way. He wasn’t posing like some men do, nor did he have a silly cartoon character as his picture. He was wearing a LSU t-shirt and standing outside a football stadium.
Brad’s profile on the UAB hospital website listed him as a staff OB/GYN doctor and fertility specialist and displayed a couple of photos. One photo was a professional headshot, and the other showed him holding a newborn baby. He was in dark green scrubs, his strong arms cradling the baby. I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach while looking at the picture. Heather and Venus were right. Brad was a good-looking man and he had southern charm to boot.
Was I being unreasonable about the whole thing? I mean, my parents were the ones who’d decided to hire someone to help with the practice. It wasn’t his fault that I didn’t agree with them. I just felt like this was all happening way too fast – and without my input.
My ringing cell phone brought me out of daydreaming. I recognized the number of Rochelle Rogers. I thought about sending her to voice mail, but realized that being the persistent journalist that she was, she would just keep calling.
“Hi Rochelle.”
“Hope, hi. I wanted to talk to you about doing an interview with LA Style. It’s for the spring issue coming out next March. I’m interviewing the top single women in Hollywood. We’d love for you to be in it.”
“What all would that include?”
“An interview about your profession and what it is like being single in LA along with a personal profile. I can email you a list of questions beforehand, and you can fill it out and bring it with you to the photo shoot.”
“Who else has committed to the article?” I asked, wanting to know whose company I would be in.
“Right now I have three women who have confirmed. Kaycee Reynolds, a country musician; Meghan Burkowitz, a sitcom writer; and Janessa Myers, the soap opera actress.”
Apparently she didn’t know about Janessa’s delicate condition yet or that she wasn’t single.
“Okay. When do you need to do the shoot?”
“The last week of December. We’ll contact you with all the information in the next few weeks.”
“Sounds good,” I said, and then gave her my email address. “Thanks for thinking of me.”
“Great. I’ll be in touch.” Rochelle clicked off.
Maybe doing this article would get my mom off my back for a while and bring some exposure to the clinic. I surely wasn’t expecting to find a boyfriend by doing this.
Chapter 11
The next couple of weeks went by like a blur. I had managed four deliveries, two pregnancy scares, a case of gonorrhea, numerous yeast infections, and uncountable UTI’s.
I finally had coaxed Janessa to come in and we confirmed her pregnancy by ultrasound. I gave her a due date of May 1st. She still wasn’t sure if she wanted to carry the baby to term. I encouraged her to talk to her boyfriend Apollo before making any rash decisions, and we arranged to meet again in two weeks.
Hilary Jackson’s mammogram results also came in and we scheduled a biopsy for that suspicious lump. I referred her to an oncologist and prayed for the best. She took the news well and was upbeat and positive about the whole thing. “I’ve been through two divorces and raised three teenagers. If I can get through that, I can handle this just fine,” Hilary said when she left.
I was mentally counting down the days until the new doctor Brad Whitford made his appearance. He was due to arrive this weekend and start on Monday. I needed to sit down and figure out how to divide up the patients and make an on-call schedule. This would be hard. I didn’t want to compromise my practice. My mom had called me several times on the pretense of making plans for Thanksgiving, which was over a month away, but I know she wanted to see how I was managing with the office drama.
This morning we had a staff meeting to discuss Dr. Whitford’s arrival and the changes that would be inevitably taking place. I brought donuts, bagels, gourmet juices, and coffee to soften the blow. I knew the staff wouldn’t be pleased. I supposed I had spoiled them a bit.
As soon as everyone was seated around the conference table and having breakfast, I started the meeting. I don’t know why I was so nervous. My staff had been with me for a long time and I wasn’t sure if they would accept this new change in the practice.
“As you know, we have a new doctor starting next week. Bradley Whitford will assist me in seeing patients and coordinating deliveries. We’ll need to switch around staff to accommodate Dr. Whitford. I know it won’t be easy…”
Meredith, one of the nurses, raised her hand.
“Yes, Meredith.”
“I’ll volunteer to be Dr. Whitford’s nurse.”
“That’s real noble of you Meredith,” Heather snickered.
“What? I’m just stepping up to help.”
“Thanks, Meredith. Actually I was going to assign you to Dr. Whitford anyway. You’re okay with that?”
“Sure.” Meredith smiled big while the other nurses looked forlorn.
“We’ll all still work together as a team, and I promise to make the transition as smooth as possible for the patients and you guys.”
“Does this mean you’ll be taking more time off?”
“Will you be hiring more staff?”
The questions were fired at me from all directions. I held up my hand.
“We’ll see. Heather and I will put out a list of patients that will be transferred into Dr. Whitford’s care next week as well as a new work schedule.” I took a sip of the yummy mango pineapple juice I had gotten from the Mr. Bean coffee store. “Any more questions?”
Not a hand was raised. I wasn’t so sure this was a good thing.
“Okay. Let’s get to work.” I walked into my office and sat down. That had gone better than I thought. The staff didn’t seem stressed about the changes. Then why did I?
Heather knocked on the door and came in.
“You okay?”
“Sure. Why?”
“Nothing. You just look a little tense. I’m sure everything will turn out okay.”
Heather waved a file in her hand.
“We have a new patient this morning. She’s an OB patient transferring from Dr. Kelso’s office. In preparation for retiring, Dr. Kelso was slowly referring all his new patients to me.
“Who is it?”
“Kasey Levine.”
“Name sounds familiar. Actress?”
“Sort of. She’s a stunt woman.”
“Oh, that’s cool. Our first stuntwoman patient.”
“She’s in exam room two with her partner.”
“Partner?”
“Yes, her name is Sherry Smith.”
“Got it.”
“Also, Katrina is here. Exam room three. She wants you to check her. She’s been having contractions.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I walked into the exam room where Kasey was ready for me.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Love,” I introduced myself.
“Kasey Levine. Nice to meet you.”
“So, you’re a transfer from Dr. Kelso. He’s a great doctor.”
“Yes, I was sad to hear about his retiring.”
“Me, too. But you’ll be in good hands here.”
“That’s what he told me.”
“Tell me about your pregnancy so far.”
Kasey explained that she’d had in-vitro treatments and they went through three sessions with two donors before becoming pregnant. She’d had an easy pregnancy so far. At her last appointment with Dr. Kelso, however, she came away with some surprising news.
“I’m expecting twins.”
“Not uncommon when using fertility treatments,” I assured her.
I did an exam with an ultrasound to confirm her dates and take a look at the little guys.
“Do you want to know the sex?”
She looked at Sherry and nodded her head yes.
I rolled the ultrasound machine over and squirted some cold gel on her belly. After taking some measurements, I looked for the important part of the baby’s equipment.
“Okay, are you ready for this?” I paused. “You’re getting the best of both worlds. One boy and one girl. And both look very healthy.”
Chapter 12
I checked on Katrina and she was indeed about two centimeters. Her contractions, however, were not consistent so I sent her home.
Sophie Black was my next appointment of the day. She was twenty years old and married to pro skate boarder Collin Purcell. Everyone in the pro circuit called him Goose. Why, I have no idea. I also hadn’t known that pro skateboarders made so much money. Apparently Collin had big sponsors like Mountain Dew and was producing his own video game.
Sophie was thirty-nine weeks pregnant with their first child. They didn’t want to know the sex, but I knew from the ultrasound that she was having a boy. Just what Collin wanted – he’d already bought a mini skateboard with the hopes of having a boy.
“Everything looks good.” I snapped off my latex gloves and threw them in the trash. “You’re at four centimeters, so my best guess is you’ll be delivering this baby real soon. Any contractions?”
“Just a few. Nothing consistent,” Sophie replied.
“Well, keep active and hydrated. Call my office or labor and delivery if your water breaks or your contractions hit every seven minutes or so.” I gave her the standard instructions.
“Thanks, Dr. Love.” Sophie reached over and grabbed a sheet of paper from her purple leather Chanel bag. “Oh, I wanted to give you a copy of our birth plan for my chart. I have copies for all the nurses and the rest of the labor and delivery staff.”
Sophie was very thorough for a young patient. She knew what she wanted and didn’t mince words. She was wise beyond her years. Her youthful face was deceiving. She had pale blonde hair worn in a pixie cut and a cute pert nose sprinkled with freckles. Those features combined with her petiteness reminded me of Tinkerbell. I wondered if she carried fairy dust in her bag.
“Thanks. I’ll look it over and put it in your file. Have a good week.”
I didn’t think anything else of it. It wasn’t uncommon for some patients to write out a birth plan, especially first-time moms. Many websites offered printable examples for new moms-to-be.
I went to my office to eat a quick lunch and Heather came in.
“I was just getting ready to file Sophie’s chart.” She handed me a sheet of paper. “Did you read this?”
It was a copy of her birth plan that she’d given me earlier.
“No, not yet. Should I?”
Heather sat down and munched on an apple.
“I think you should.” She smiled at me mischievously. “It might brighten your day.”
I put down my tuna fish sandwich, took a sip of my iced tea, and scanned the paper.
Birth Plan of Sophie Black
My name is Sophie Black and my fiancé is Collin Purcell. But please refer to him as Goose. Just Goose. Please don’t call him anything else but that – he is very sensitive to his real name. He’ll be with me during labor and we don’t expect anyone else to attend.
I have diligently watched The Baby stories on the Lifetime channel and seen ER many times. I realize that labor and delivery is not like that in real life so…here is my plan.
You have my permission to give me any and all drugs at any time. In fact, the moment I feel pain coming on, I want the anesthesiologist ready to give me an epidural. Feel free to put some painkillers in my IV, as well, for a back-up in case the epidural fails or isn’t working fast enough. With all the modern medical technology available, a natural delivery is so passé, anyway. God forbid if I have to have a C-section, but if I do, then go right ahead. You don’t even have to ask. As long as I’m well medicated, then go for it. A word of caution, though. If Goose is present for the C-section, please don’t let him look over the curtain. Any sight of blood and you’ll be scraping him off the floor. (He’s a tough skateboarder on TV, but in real life, he’s a wussy when it comes to that kind of stuff). Simply remaining conscious is his only goal (other than having a healthy baby).
My best friend is a nurse and she gave me the smart advice of “make friends with your nurse.” So I plan on becoming your best friend and advocate. Whatever you say goes.
Goose and I have a large family that, while they mean well, can be bothersome. If any family member gets in the way, feel free to ask them to leave.
When I’m ready to push, I want everyone out of the room. I mean EVERYONE. (Except for Goose, the nurse, and maybe even the doctor). Make my family go to the waiting room. If not, they will try and listen at the door, which is not acceptable.
The only way our baby boy (if it is a boy – it’s supposed to be a surprise, so please don’t give it away) gets circumcised is if the pediatrician gives him some pain medicine. I’m talking the good stuff, not just some numbing cream.
Thanks for taking the time to review my plan and obeying my wishes.
I laughed so hard I almost spit out my coffee. “Is she for real?”
Heather just shrugged her shoulders. “I think so. She gave this to you. What do you think?”
“I think I like this girl.”
Chapter 13
“Dr. Love?” Heather came into my office. “Your first interview is here.”
I desperately needed to get organized before Brad started, so I’d decided to cross one thing off my ever growing to-do list.
Hire a housekeeper. My cupboards were bare, my house was in disarray, and laundry was piled up. I’d had to buy new panties this morning because I didn’t have time to wash the old ones.
Twenty seven people had responded to the housekeeping ad. Heather narrowed down the prospects to a manageable five people and set them up for interviews.
“Send her in.”
“It’s a he,” Heather said.
“Oh. Well, send him in then.”
I reached for a memo pad and pen to take notes. I’ve never had to hire household help before. I’d inherited my last housekeeper, Zelda, from my mother when she moved to Palm Springs. Zelda had stayed with me for about a year before she decided to retire. That was three months ago and I hadn’t a decent homemade meal since then.
A hot, young Italian guy walked into my office. We were off to a good start.
“Please sit down. Call me Hope.” I was immediately taken aback by Frederick. What in the world was he doing interviewing for a housekeeper position? He wore a pair of Khaki slacks with a white button down shirt and Dockside shoes. He also had a large black bag that had a delicious aroma drifting from it.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to me.
“Here’s my resume and a list of references.”
I scanned the impressive document. He had worked as a private chef for many well-known Hollywood families. He also had listed a couple of restaurants as former employers.
“While your resume looks impressive, Frederick, I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood what I’m looking for. I need a housekeeper first. Someone to do cleaning, run errands, and grocery shopping. Cooking is just a bonus.”
“Oh, I’m more than willing and capable to do all that. I helped my mother clean when she was a housekeeper.”
“But can’t you make more money as a private chef?”
“Being a private chef is not a very stable job right now. Everyone is cutting back due to the economy. I need to diversify more.”
Frederick had a bit of an accent but he was very articulate. I was getting more impressed by the minute.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a large Tupperware container, a china bowl, sterling silver fork and spoon, and a white linen napkin.
“Here, taste this.” He took some pasta out of the Tupperware and put in the bowl.
It smelled so good. I hesitated, though. I didn’t know this guy. He could be trying to poison me. But my stomach was growling, and it overrode my brain.
“Go ahead. It’s good.” He waited like an eager puppy.
I twirled the pasta around my fork and took a tentative bite. It was like heaven in my mouth.
“It’s good, no?” He smiled hugely. “Pasta carbonara.”
Special Delivery Page 4
