Page 12 of Baby I'm Yours

“A parrot?” I wrinkle my nose. “Why on earth would he want a parrot? You can’t cuddle a parrot, they don’t purr, and they’ll never learn to tidy up their own poo.”

“Right?” she agrees. “That’s what I’ve been saying for months.”

We continue to discuss all the ways cats are superior to all other pets as she conducts her examination, assuring me my eyes are fine, but that I definitely need a new prescription.

After she writes that out for me, she reaches into her bag and pulls out several pairs of frames. “There are great places to get affordable glasses online these days if you’re on a budget down the line. But in the meantime, Mr. Mendelssohn asked me to set you up with two pairs. He thought you might like something vintage-inspired, but I brought other choices, too. He’s already paid, so you just need to let me know which frames you’d like, and we can have those ready for you in the office by Tuesday morning.”

I bite my lip, torn between being touched that Hunter knew exactly what kind of frames I would like and creeped out by his bossiness.

I don’t need some dude coming in and trying to take charge of my body.

Oh yeah? You sure about that? You were scandalously overdue for an eye exam…

I was, but that was mychoice.

I like having choices and the final say when it comes to the healthcare I do—ordon’t—decide to access.

I won’t be able to do that if I sign that contract. Hunter will have full access to my records and an equal voice in all medical decisions made during my pregnancy until after the baby is born. That’s one of his stipulations. He wants to know exactly what’s going on with his baby mama from conception through delivery…

Can I handle that? A bossy near-stranger looking over my shoulder into the most intimate parts of my life? And what if he wants to be in the room when I give birth, staring between my legs while the head starts to crown?

Maybe my opinion on that will change, but right now it sounds like the most mortifying thing ever.

“The cat-eye frames would suit you,” Dr. Childers suggests, pulling me from my thoughts as she holds up a pair of frames in tortoiseshell. “Very classic.”

I slide them on and glance in the mirror she holds up. The woman staring back at me looks sophisticated. Poised. Like someone who might actually have her life figured out.

Like someone who might be able to handle Hunter Mendelssohn and anything he decides to throw her way…

“Perfect,” Dr. Childers declares. “Should I mark these down as your first selection?”

I nod. “Yes, please. And I don’t need to try any others. I can’t imagine frames I’d like better than these.”

“Brilliant. Then we can do one in tortoiseshell and one in black?” Once I agree, she adds, “Sounds good. We’ll give you a call if they’re ready for pick-up before Tuesday. In the meantime, have a good night, and don’t take any guff from this man. Just because he treated you to an eye exam doesn’t mean you owe him anything. Not even the time of day, if you don’t feel like giving it. I know you have a good head on your shoulders, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t pass along that piece of mama bear advice before I headed home.”

Nodding in acknowledgement of her wisdom, I walk her to the door, “I knew you were a girl’s girl, doc. And don’t worry, I plan on taking zero shit from this man.”

She laughs. “Hear, hear!”

I lean against the doorframe, calling as she starts down the stairs. “Get home safe, and call me when you’re ready to meet the adoptable fur babies. I have some really sweet older cats right now and three kittens just about ready to be weaned.”

“Will do!” She lifts a hand in farewell, and I shut the door, feeling much better than I did before her visit.

She’s right. Idohave a good head on my shoulders, and I’ve proven I can accomplish great things even with nothing but a high school diploma and a knack for baking.

I might be able to pull this crazy thing off and emerge happier than ever on the other side.

“What do you think, Captain?” I ask.

Captain Crunchypants flops onto my socked foot and starts purring. I scratch behind his ears as I muse, “I mean, we’ve done crazier things. Right?”

The Captain just purrs louder and drools on my leg, too high from his catnip ball to offer counsel.

This is a decision I’ll have to make alone, but that doesn’t feel as scary as it did even an hour ago.

And once I give that contract a thorough read through, I can?—

“Shit,” I curse, wishing I’d asked Dr. Childers if she had any higher-powered readers for sale in her black bag.

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