Page 22 of Dirty Girl

9

Dylan

“Well, Miss Thomas, everything is right on track. The baby looks great and you’re fit as a fiddle.” The reassuring tone of Dr. Hastings breaks up the steady whooshing sound of my little boy’s heartbeat. My eyes are glued to the large screen on the wall where the image of my little man curled up inside my womb is displayed. His tiny thumb is in his mouth and his ten perfect little toes are clearly visible.

Tears prick my eyes and spill over as I take in the image before me. Dr. Hastings’ hand grips mine tightly. “No tears now girlie, all is well. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

He’s an older man, late fifties at my best guess. He reminds me a lot of my dad and from the moment I walked into his office I felt a sense of security and comfort. His wife, Nora, is the receptionist and she took an instant liking to me. When she found out during my first appointment that I was staying at a local motel, she insisted on showing me their rental property. When I say insisted, I mean she carted me off directly after my appointment and refused to take no for an answer.

The little cottage style house was perfect. Two bedrooms and one bathroom with an open concept living room and kitchen area. It was tiny, but homey. A perfect oasis for my battered soul.

The first several weeks, I stayed holed up in my new place, only venturing out for groceries and necessities that I hadn’t brought with me. Since the house was fully furnished, I didn’t have to do much. It was the third week that Nora put a stop to my self-imposed solitude. Just like at my appointment, she didn’t take no for an answer, which is how I found myself working part-time at the town library three times a week.

Nora bustles into the room, shouting at her husband to get his buns over to the hospital because “Francine is ready to pop and he best go catch that baby.” I laugh at her antics despite my tears.

“Oh dear, what’s with the waterworks?” Nora grips my shoulders pulling me into a loving hug. Of course, that only makes my tears come faster. I’ve cried more tears in the last five months than I’ve cried in my entire life. Between a broken heart, loneliness, and pregnancy hormones, I’m a hot mess.

“I m…miss him,” I stammer.

She rubs calming circles over my back, helping me to slowly relax. Once I’ve caught my breath, she pulls away and cups my cheeks. The look of determination on her face is something I’ve seen a hundred times. I know she’s about to give me a dose of reality and I’m not going to like it.

“Dylan, call him. You can’t hide here forever. Hasn’t it been long enough? So what if he’s got a fiancée. He’s your baby’s father and should be here for you even if he is a cheating bastard.”

“Maybe,” I hedge.

“It’s your choice, but this,” her hands cup my belly gently, “should be his choice, too.”

I know she’s right. I initially hadn’t planned to keep silent. I had every intention of contacting Jackie as soon as I found a place to settle down, but the days slipped by and it became easier and easier to hide in my bubble.

“I’ll think about it. Promise. I better get going. My story time group will be at the library in ten minutes and you know how those little angels torture Olive if I’m not there on time.”

Nora laughs. “Yes, you best get.”

I give her a quick hug and take off towards the library.

The bitter cold air blasts straight through me the moment I step out of the comfortable warmth of the medical building. I pull my coat tighter around my body and bury my face up to my nose in my fluffy scarf. I don’t know that I’ll ever get use to wintertime in Maine, but the snow is gorgeous.

I had been on a few ski trips to Colorado with Jackie’s family over the years, but living in a snowy climate was completely different from vacationing in one. Thankfully, Abbot is a small town. I can walk anywhere I need to go, otherwise I’d be stuck at home all the time because I’m terrified to drive in the snow and ice.

I’m just outside the library when I feel eyes on me. This is a small town and when I first moved here, everyone stared at the newcomer. It’s not a new feeling, but it still makes me uncomfortable. A few people continue to whisper about my unwed mother status, but that is few and far between these days. I look around trying to pinpoint what’s causing the feeling, but see nothing out of the ordinary. I shrug it off and mentally prepare for the madness that is ten three and four year olds.

It’sdark by the time I leave work. Olive had an emergency and begged me to stay and close the library for her. I’m exhausted and my back is aching. When I see how heavily it’s snowing, I contemplate just sleeping on the couch in the reading nook instead of trudging home in this weather. The angry snarl of my belly reminds me that I skipped lunch—home it is.

I bundle up and push my way out into the weather. I’m a couple blocks away from my house when I feel eyes on me again. Weird. I glance around and once again come up empty. I suddenly feel vulnerable out here all alone and for the first time since I moved here, scared.

I pull out my phone and consider calling Nora, but I’m being ridiculous. Abbott is the safest town around. Even so, I pick up the pace, making it home in half the time.

My lungs are burning from the exertion and my sore feet are now screaming at me in my boots. I kick my boots off and wiggle my toes trying to get feeling back into them after the numbing cold. I’m about to take my coat off when there’s a knock at my door.

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