by Janice Lynn
“No way.” Debbie looked appropriately stunned, then outraged. “The jerk.”
Melissa shrugged, not wanting her friend to think unkindly of James. “He didn’t know I was pregnant when he told me.”
“Now that he knows?”
“He mentioned marriage, but I don’t know.” Maybe before he’d stated his intention to move she might have considered it. Now she only felt like she was forcing him into yet something else he didn’t want. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life with a man who didn’t want to be with her and their baby. A man who, on the surface, would do and say all the right things but he’d never let her touch the real him.
A man who would insist she give up a career she loved, just as he’d once insisted she give up her dream of a baby or give him up.
Debbie sank into the chair next to Melissa’s desk. “I can understand that. It would be hard to accept a proposal from someone who was planning to leave you until he found out you were pregnant.”
“Exactly.” Melissa closed her eyes. “I think he’s met someone else.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I wish.” Melissa rolled her neck, trying to ease the tightness gripping her muscles. “I met her once. Tall, gorgeous, brunette. Think super-model with a stethoscope and a penchant for hearts.”
Debbie shook her head. “James isn’t the kind of man to be taken in by just looks.”
“She’s a cardiologist at Vanderbilt. She and James share a research grant on the prevention of damage to the heart during myocardial infarctions by administering certain types of medications. He thinks she’s brilliant.”
Wincing, Debbie mouthed an O. “So, what are you going to do about this woman?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Fight for him.” Debbie’s face took on a thoughtful expression. “I’ve seen how James looks at you. Despite whatever problems you are having, the man loves you. You’re carrying his baby. And at the moment he sleeps in your bed. You have the advantage, Melissa. Take it.”
“He’s never told me he loves me.”
“Doesn’t make it any less true,” Debbie pointed out. “Have you told him?”
“No.” She hadn’t really thought about how she felt about James. He was a part of her life. A good part, even if he did keep so much of himself locked away. She cared for him, wanted him in her life, but love?
Loving someone was just begging to be hurt.
“You do love James, don’t you?” Debbie’s question echoed her thoughts.
Definitely Melissa was closer to him than any other person who’d ever come into her life. She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it, but was that love?
“You’re thinking about this way too long.”
“I care for him.” Melissa opted for a safe answer, not wanting her friend to know how much it hurt that James might leave.
“That’s a lame answer.” Her friend didn’t mince her words. “I was feeling sorry for you, but maybe it’s James who deserves my sympathy. You’ve been seeing him for two years and you don’t know if you love him?”
Melissa grimaced.
“Well, let me point out the obvious. You’re crazy about James and if you lose him because you’re too afraid to admit it, then it’s no one’s fault but your own.”
“He’s the one who holds his emotions in. Not me.”
“Oh, really?” Debbie’s brow quirked. “I’d say you’ve got one heck of a fortress around your heart. If you want to keep James in your life, you’re going to have to open the door and let him in.”
“You have it all wrong,” Melissa said defensively. “He’s the one with the fortress. He won’t let me in.”
“OK, let’s just say you both have issues. But one of you is going to have to take a chance and let the other in. You have a baby to think about. What are you going to say to him or her? That you and James didn’t make it because you weren’t willing to trust each other with your feelings?”
Debbie made her fears seem petty, but how did one say, “I want you to let me in”?
“Look, you don’t have anything major on your schedule this afternoon. Let me see what I can reschedule until tomorrow, the rest I’ll have come in early. Go, get your hair and makeup done, because you’ve had better days.” Definitely no mincing of words. “Buy new underwear.” Debbie thought new underwear solved every problem. “Tell James how you feel about him and your relationship. See what happens. The heart doctor doesn’t stand a chance. Not if you’re willing to make James your priority.”
Hadn’t James said something to the effect of making him her priority? Was she more to blame for the problems they faced than she’d realized?
Granted, she hadn’t been the one to announce she was leaving, but part of her fear of pregnancy originated because deep down she knew her relationship with James wasn’t what it should be. Hadn’t been for months. Was that why she’d delayed taking her pregnancy test for so long? Had it been easier to ignore her symptoms, ignore him, than to face the realities of her life?
It had been too easy to put off their plans when something had come up. After all, she’d see him whenever she got home. Only more and more he hadn’t been home. He’d been in Nashville. With Dr Kristen Weaver, who jumped every time James had glanced her way and had her priorities straight.
Melissa grimaced. She’d taken James’s presence in her life for granted. No wonder he hadn’t let her behind those walls.
She didn’t want to lose him.
During the early part of their relationship, she’d been happy. Because of him, the way he’d made her feel about herself, the way she’d felt about him.
“OK,” she agreed, knowing she couldn’t let him walk out of her life without knowing she wanted him to stay. “See what you can reschedule. Call Peggy Williams.” She named one of her patients who owned a beauty salon and was forever offering her services. “See if she can give me the works.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Melissa stayed focused on her patients. Mrs Erma Johnson needed a refill on her blood pressure medicine. Darla Qualls had an allergic reaction to her antibiotic. Melissa glanced at her last chart of the day. Samantha Cantor, a pretty teenager who would soon be starting university about half an hour’s drive away.
“Hi, Sam,” she said, entering the exam room and glancing at Debbie’s notation on the chart. Pain with urination for two weeks. “Are you burning when you go to the bathroom?”
“Some, but my stomach hurts all the time.” She rubbed her suprapubic area, the lowest part of the abdomen, which rested above her pubic bone. “Right here.”
“Have you noticed a strong odor or seen any blood?”
Sam nodded. “This is a bit embarrassing, but sex hurts. I have a horrible discharge. It’s…” her face turned bright red “…green and foamy.”
Sounded like Trichomonas pallidium. “How many sexual partners have you had?”
Sam’s cheeks glowed. “Just one. Bobby and I have been dating for three years. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”
“Does Bobby have any symptoms?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Averting her eyes, the girl shook her head. “I mean, he looks the same and all.”
Melissa noted her responses in her chart. No need to upset Sam until she knew for sure what was going on.
“Sam, I’m going to do a couple of tests on you. One is urinalysis, where I’ll check your urine for infection, blood, and other things that would indicate problems. The second is a vaginal survey. This is where I’ll make three microscope slides. I’ll do a gram stain with one to check for bacteria. Do a saline prep with another slide to check for Trichomonas pallidium, which is a sexually transmitted disease, and I’ll do a KOH slide to check for vaginal candidiasis, better known as a yeast infection.”
Sam’s lower lip trembled. “Will the tests hurt?”
“On the urinalysis, I’ll need you to pee in a cup. For the vaginal survey, you’ll have to have a pelvic exam similar to what it fe
lt like when I did your Pap test,” Melissa explained. She always used a liquid-based prep rather than the traditional Pap smear due to its increased accuracy and flexibility of testing for the human papillomavirus. “It’ll be uncomfortable, but shouldn’t be overly painful.”
Twenty minutes later Melissa’s suspicions were confirmed.
“Sam, the test showed that you have a Trichomonas infection.” Melissa met the girl’s wide eyes. “Like I mentioned earlier, this is a sexually transmitted disease.”
“Oh, my God,” Sam cried, covering her face with her hands. “I have an STD?”
“Yes, but fortunately it’s treatable. Trichomonas is a parasite and will take a special type of anti-infective, but it will completely clear up.” Melissa took a deep breath. “Sam, because you tested positive for this, you’re at high risk of having other sexually transmitted diseases. I recommend you have blood tests for other STDs like genital herpes, hepatitis B, and HIV.”
The crying girl shook her head in denial. “No, I can’t have any of those because I’ve not been with anyone but Bobby. I was his first, too. I must have gotten this from a toilet seat or something.”
“Sam, that isn’t possible.”
“But he doesn’t have any symptoms.”
“Men often don’t show signs of sexually transmitted diseases.” Which was unfortunate, but true.
“How could I have gotten this?”
Here came the whammie. “That’s something you need to discuss with Bobby, but the logical answer would be that he’s had sex with another person and infected you.”
“No,” came the sharp denial. “He loves me and wouldn’t do that.”
Melissa didn’t say anything. Way too often she was the bearer of such bad tidings. Most women suspected something, but occasionally, and particularly with young girls, the news that their significant other had been unfaithful came as a total shock.
Was that why she’d leapt to conclusions so quickly in regard to James and Dr Weaver? Because she didn’t want to be thought of as naïve? Not once prior to him telling her he was moving out had she questioned the nights he’d spent away from home. In her heart, she knew James hadn’t cheated, wouldn’t cheat on a woman he was involved with.
As long as he lived with her she stood a chance of changing his mind about her and their baby.
Thirty minutes and several blood tests later, Melissa walked into her office and dropped Sam’s chart onto her desk.
Debbie quickly followed.
“I missed my appointment with Peggy.”
Debbie gave an I’ve-got-your-back grin. “I told her you were hung up with a patient. She said not to worry about it and come when you could. She’ll work you in.”
Melissa glanced at her watch. If she hurried, she’d still have time to get the works and make it home by six. Without finishing her charting, she hurried out the door.
“Thanks, Debbie,” she called over her shoulder to her friend. “Wish me luck.”
“Wow. Dr James is gonna be one happy man when he gets a load of you,” Peggy praised her handiwork.
Melissa had to admit that it had been months since she’d looked so good. Not that the makeup completely hid the circles beneath her eyes, but almost.
Until she’d glanced in the mirror and seen the difference in how she looked compared to when she’d entered the salon, she hadn’t realized how much she’d let herself go. Looks didn’t matter that much when you were dealing with people’s lives.
“I’ve got a dress in my shop that would look divine on you,” Rhonda Peterson informed her from where another stylist was putting the finishing touches to her short curls. Rhonda ran a thrift store off Sawtooth’s town square. “I picked it up on a shopping trip to Nashville. Still has the original tags and everything.”
Which meant it had come from an upscale yard sale or another thrift shop. Rhonda was the queen of finding good deals.
“Oh, are you talking about that creamy number you got last week?” Gloria Stevens perked up from where she was reading a magazine, dozens of perm rollers tightly pinned to her head beneath a plastic cover.
“That’s the one.” Rhonda beamed.
“That dress is absolutely gorgeous.” Gloria’s gaze traveled over Melissa’s trim figure. “And I bet it would fit perfectly.”
The light in the women’s eyes encouraged Melissa to at least take a look. She did want something different to wear tonight. Something breathtaking yet classy. Maybe Rhonda’s dress was just the thing.
She glanced at her watch. Almost five. If she hurried, she’d have time to try on the dress and dazzle James when she walked in the door by six.
She paid Peggy for her hard work, then waited for Rhonda. Fifteen minutes later she stood in Rhonda’s shop, slipping on what truly was a stunning silk dress. She half expected to look washed out, but with Peggy’s expertly applied makeup, the neutral color of the dress made her eyes appear large, sultry. The peachy tones of her lipstick made her lips look pouty. The dress was the perfect final touch.
“Come on out here. Let me see what it looks like,” Rhonda called from the other side of the dressing-room door.
Melissa stepped out.
Rhonda’s eyes widened and a smug grin stretched across her face. “I knew that dress was made for you, but those shoes have got to go.”
Melissa glanced down at her standard white walking shoes. “You have something that would work?”
“Oh, yeah, girl. I do. Come over here and let’s try some on.” Rhonda led her to a used shoe section that would rival any upscale department store. Most looked to be brand new or worn only once.
Melissa tried on three pairs of strappy high-heeled sandals before she found a pair she thought she could comfortably walk in and not break her neck. She told Rhonda as much.
“Honey, looking like you do, you aren’t going to have to worry about doing much walking. Dr James will have you on your back in no time flat.”
Guilt seized her. Rhonda, along with the women at the salon, must think she and James were planning a special night in. No wonder, since she’d gone to so much trouble with her appearance when they’d never known her to do so.
Even Debbie didn’t know of James’s request that morning, just that Melissa had decided to fight for her man.
“You think he’s going to propose tonight?” Rhonda sounded wistful, as if she couldn’t think of anything more romantic than James proposing.
That’s when the truth struck Melissa. If James had proposed under the right circumstances, she couldn’t think of anything more romantic either.
Under duress because she was pregnant lacked romance altogether. Particularly following his announcement that he was moving out.
She wanted the dream. James, babies, a happy home, and a happily-ever-after of her own.
Melissa shook her head. “Don’t go starting rumors. We’re just having a night in. It’s been a while.”
Rhonda nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “With the way you work I don’t know how y’all see each other at all. I’m glad you’re taking some time for you and that scrumptious doctor friend of yours. You do so much for others. It’s about time you did something for yourself.”
Melissa smiled at Rhonda, thinking that she’d made some good friends in Sawtooth over the past few years.
Friends. Something she hadn’t had during her childhood mainly because of the moves from one foster-family to another. After a while she’d just quit trying to make friends, but now she had them. When had that happened and why hadn’t she realized? Because she’d been too busy to stop and smell the roses. Just like with James.
But wasn’t it easier to focus on work than on the problems with their relationship? With the fact that what she wanted was in direct opposition to what he wanted?
She touched her belly. She wanted their baby.
Remembering that Rhonda could be watching, Melissa blushed, paid for the dress and shoes, and waved good-bye. She’d just put her soiled clothes and walking sho
es in the passenger seat of her car when her cell phone rang.
She looked at the number. Her office.
“Hello?”
“Are you still in town?” Debbie asked, sounding flustered.
“Yes. I’m outside Rhonda Peterson’s shop. Why?”
“Jamie Moss is here. I was locking up the office when she arrived. Her youngest daughter had a bicycle crash and is bleeding everywhere. At least two of the cuts are going to need stitches. I’ve got pressure on the one on her knee but haven’t been able to get the bleeding to stop.” Debbie’s sentences gushed out. “Jamie’s a wreck. Her car wouldn’t start and she had to run to a neighbor’s to get a ride to the office, but he couldn’t stay to drive her back home. What do you want me to do?”
Melissa closed her eyes. She could hear five-year-old Amanda screaming in the background, could hear Jamie’s efforts to soothe the little girl. Could feel Debbie’s frustration at having to call her tonight, knowing she planned to woo James.
Some things couldn’t be helped and she couldn’t send Amanda to an emergency room by ambulance when she knew the girl and her mother wouldn’t have a way to get home. Not if she could take care of the problem in her clinic.
“I’ll be there in two minutes.”
It took three, thanks to getting caught at one of Sawtooth’s four traffic lights.
Debbie had the girl in the procedure room and was applying pressure to a wound on her knee. Amanda screamed that she wanted her daddy and Jamie attempted to hug the girl, only to be pushed away.
Jamie burst into tears and Melissa went to her and placed her arms around the beaten-down woman.
“It’s going to be OK. We’ll get her sewn up and everything will be fine. She’s just scared.”
“I feel like such a failure. If I’d been watching her closer, she wouldn’t have had the crash.”
“Kids have bicycle crashes. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I want my daddy,” the little girl wailed even louder, not liking being ignored by her mother and Melissa.
