Page 20 of Soaring and Saucy

So much had happened, so much that couldn’t be taken back. Honestly, she wasn’t sure that if she had the option, that she would change any of it. That was the most beautiful moment of her life – and he’d made her feel cheap, rejected, unworthy, and unloved by running away.

“I can’t handle this right now,” she muttered painfully, picking up the marriage license and putting it on the driver’s side visor. “I’ve got enough with work, the bills, and everyone’s questions about that blasted photo plastered everywhere I look.”

Time seemed to pass by and Stephanie filled her days with keeping busy while she wasn’t at work, simply to keep her mind occupied. She didn’t want to think of Lance or acknowledge the fact that she’d signed her check yesterday as Stephanie Cavanaugh by mistake.

It had been almost two months, and yet it felt like yesterday when she was in his arms. It was like his memory was determined to haunt her every waking moment and frolicked freely in her dreams. Oh gosh, those breathtaking dreams… she mused, making a small noise deep in her throat as she closed her eyes while at the doctor’s office.

Two long months of sleepless nights…

Working at a bank exposed her to all sorts of germs, and while she wasn’t phobic, she was exceedingly ill and needed to get a prescription. Money was filthy and by the end of the day, despite washing her hands, usually her fingertips were stained with ink, debris, or who-knows-what. She’d had people bring in stacks of one-dollar bills complete with glitter on them, while others requested rolls of quarters, foreign currency, and other things. One of the first habits she got rid of was licking her thumb to count money. Ugh. Yeah, it took less than two hours on her first day on the job to stop that.

Closing her eyes didn’t help her stuffed sinuses at all. No, it simply let her see Lance’s loving smile as he looked at her, remembering the way he’d caressed her, and…

“Well, that changes things,” the doctor said, knocking on the clinic door and walking right in. “I’m sorry you aren’t feeling good, and you aren’t going to like me very much when I give you your prescription.”

“Why? Is it expensive? My insurance covers it, right? It’s the flu, isn’t it? I’m gonna be breathing out one nostril for two weeks, aren’t I, Doc?” she blurted out in a nasal voice… only to see him shake his head as he handed her a cup.

“I’m not thirsty. My throat hurts.”

“I’m not offering you a drink,” he chuckled again. “We’re doing this slightly backward, but I need to be sure before filing it with your insurance company.”

“What’s backward?” Stephanie asked, clutching her head before yanking a tissue from the box mounted on the wall in a small wire cage. “I’m sorry. Nothing is clicking upstairs in my head, and I’ve got a fever. Can you dumb it down for me?”

“Stephanie, I need you to pee in the cup.”

“For the flu?”

“For the pregnancy test,” he countered, and she just stared at him. “Stephanie, when people have the flu, they don’t miss a period or have sore breasts. The fatigue is probably worse than normal because yes – you have the flu, and you might be pregnant. I imagine you feel like you are ready to drop at any moment. But if you are pregnant, then that changes what I can prescribe you.”

“I… can’t,” she whispered, immediately tearing up. “I mean, I can… but I can’t because, well, I just can’t.”

“That’s why we are doing the pregnancy test, to make sure – but if you haven’t been sexually active, then…” his voice trailed off as she silently took the cup from him.

Standing up, she put a hand along the wall to brace herself because she was so light-headed from her illness. Moments later, she put the cup in the little cupboard on the wall and returned to the examination room to wait.

As the doctor walked in, Stephanie looked up at him with a grim awareness of what she already knew deep within her. Her one-night-stand with her sort-of husband whom she barely knew, had resulted in a baby.

“Congratulations,” he smiled at her. “And here is where you aren’t going to like me… go home. Chicken soup, plenty of fluids, start taking prenatal vitamins, and schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. Tamiflu won’t work because it’s already been a few days. Get some rest, and here is a list of over-the-counter items you can take safely – and a list of obstetricians in this area, too.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, reeling.

“Just remember, until you get an appointment, anything you ingest can reach the baby during this formative time period. The best thing you can do is sleep, and your body will fight off the infection while doing its best to create life. That’s got to be exhausting for anyone…”

She nodded halfheartedly as he handed her several sheets of paper. Digging out her keys, she yanked several more Kleenexes from the box for the ride home to her apartment. As she got in the car, she immediately put the sun visor down because the bright light was hurting her aching head, and the marriage license fell into her lap, almost like a sign.

“What am I going to do?” she whispered aloud, completely beside herself. “If he didn’t want to be married, he’s surely going to be upset about being a father… but,” she continued speaking aloud, working her befuddled brain through the process as she put the car into drive. “If it was me, I’d want to at least know. I’m not expecting much from him, but maybe he could sign the marriage license so the baby has his last name. If he won’t sign it, then I’ll really know for sure how things are – and we’ll go our separate ways.”

As she drove, slack-jawed so she could breathe, she was sagging behind the wheel, completely exhausted. Thank goodness the clinic wasn’t too far from her little apartment, and she lived on the first floor. She wasn’t sure that she would be capable of going up a flight or two of stairs right now.

As she walked into the apartment, she immediately took the quilt off the back of the recliner where it was being used to cover a worn-out spot – and curled up on the sofa, facing the cushions, closing her eyes.

Exhausted.

7

TROPHY

Lance,

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