Page 49 of Pretty Drunk

“Gabe and Blair set a wedding date,” I announce, even though he probably already knows.

“Yeah?”

I nod, settling into the comfortable seat as we head to Hudson. “December twenty-third. It’s the three-year anniversary of when she got stuck in the snow and he picked her up for me,” I state, recalling that weekend very well.

Of course, at the time, I thought my brother just picked my friend up from the snowdrift she got stuck in. Little did I know, they did the nasty too, and even though she spent the next couple of days at my condo with me for the holidays, she never said a word about it. Until the next year, when she returned to town to help work at her father’s medical practice while he recovered from a massive heart attack. Little did she know, my brother Gabe also worked there.

Small world and all that.

Now they’re in love, getting married, and having a baby.

“They’re waiting until December? I figured they’d run off and elope on some Caribbean Island with white sandy beaches or something.”

“Me too, honestly,” I state, turning slightly in my seat to face him. “But it’s all about the date for them. She’ll be about six months pregnant then, and probably cute as a freaking button in her wedding dress. I’m insanely excited for them.”

“A snowy, Christmas wedding. Good for them,” he says with a decisive nod.

We arrive in Hudson and make our way to the medical clinic I’ve been a patient at since I was sixteen. I went to the local clinic in town for general appointments and illnesses, but there’s no way I was going to either my oldest friend’s father or my brother for gynecology. Once Blair returned to town, she took over the younger patients through the practice, since she’s a pediatrician, so it’s not like she could be my obstetrician. Hence, seeing a wonderful physician in Hudson for all my womanly appointments.

“This one?” Logan asks, slowing down in front of a large brick building.

“Yep. Park anywhere in the big lot,” I tell him, a wave of excitement coursing through me.

The truck is parked a few seconds later, and we’re both climbing out. As we walk toward the building, Logan places his hand on my lower back. He opens all the doors as we enter and hangs back just a bit when we step up to the counter.

“Hello, Hallie Rhodes,” I tell the receptionist.

She types on her computer and asks questions to verify my information and insurance. “Sign on the pad,” she instructs me, pointing to the small box attached to her computer. “You’re all set. Have a seat, and you’ll be called back shortly.”

“Thank you,” I reply before turning and searching for a place to sit.

There are several people in the waiting area, and knowing Logan prefers to see the room, I head for the back wall where a love seat is available. “This okay?”

“Sure,” he says quickly. The moment he sits down, he wipes his hands on his jeans, as if his palms are a little sweaty. He’s also bouncing his foot, a sign he’s a little anxious.

“You all right?”

“Yes,” he insists quickly, his eyes scanning the individuals in the room. All but one is female, and the only other male is a younger child here with his mom. “What should we expect? The internet had some thoughts, but every office is different.”

His curiosity and research are really endearing, just don’t tell him I said that.

“Well, I’m not entirely certain, but I think it’ll start with vitals, and I know there will be an ultrasound,” I explain, a smile easily spreading across my lips at the thought of seeing the baby for the first time.

“Really?” he asks, eyes wide and equally as eager.

“Yep.”

“Cool,” he says, sitting beside me and continuing to smile. His foot still taps on the floor, but not as frantic as it was a minute ago.

Our wait doesn’t take too long. We’re called a short time later and lead through the door toward a small room. “I’m Gina, and I’m going to take some vitals first. Would you step on the scale?”

I do as instructed, glancing over my shoulder and telling Logan, “Don’t look.”

He holds up his hands and replies, “I wouldn’t dare.” Then, he crosses his arms over his chest and turns to the side, giving us a profile view. I’m pretty sure I hear the older nurse sigh in appreciation.

After she takes my blood pressure, she steps out of the small room. “There’s a restroom directly across the hall. We’ll need a urine sample, which we’ll do at every appointment.”

When that part is complete and I’ve handed my sample off to the waiting nurse, she gives me a smile and says, “All right, follow me, please.”

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