Page 41 of Forever Writing You

“Thank you so much, Aunt G.”

“You’re welcome.” She shrugs and looks at my mother. “For the record, it was just another typical letter from the Everett boy.”

“He should just go ahead and propose.” My mom laughs. “I can’t see either of you ever dating anyone else.”

Me either. “Don’t wait up. I’ll be back to finish prepping the tulip bulbs later tonight!”

I stepped outside and headed to my car.

As crazy as Aunt Gertrude can be, I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had a period.

She might have a point…

* * *

Half an hour later, I sit on the edge of my bathtub and stare blankly at the positive blue lines on the pregnancy test.

Butterflies are fluttering in my chest, and life suddenly feels more than perfect.

I’m pregnant with Everett’s baby.

I call our family doctor and schedule an appointment for next weekend so I can surprise Everett with the news.

The following Monday, when I’m knee deep in weeds, I feel something between my thighs. Something warm, sticky and wet.

Assuming I’ve cut an irrigation line, I stand up to see where, but I’m not wet from water.

It’s bright red blood.

Oh my god! I unclip my overall straps and push them down to the gravel.

My panties are soaked in blood, too.

Panicking, I call out for my mom and Aunt, but then I remember they’re miles away—handling business in town.

Wrapping a tarp around my waist, I rush to my car and drive to the doctor’s office.

FINAL BLOOMING SEASON

BACK THEN

Dahlia

I’m sitting on a cold plastic patient bed, and my feet are in stirrups.

The bleeding “could be anything” according to the nurse who took my vitals, so I’m hoping I can kill two birds with one stone today: Get medication for whatever made me bleed, and get a printout of the ultrasound for Everett.

I’ve already purchased a grey and yellow pair of baby booties for our date tonight.

“Good afternoon, Miss Foster.” My doctor, a blonde who prefers to be called “Miss Sunshine” enters the room. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m super excited.” I sit up. “Can you tell me how far along I am? Oh, and I know you all don’t typically print out ultrasounds until a certain mark, but could I still have one today?”

“We need to discuss a couple of other things first.” She picked up a clipboard and motioned for the nurse to grab something I couldn’t see. “When’s the last time you had a pap smear?”

“Two or three years ago with Dr. Turner.”

“Did she ever mention any uterus abnormalities?”

---