Page 11 of Blackout: Book Two

Chapter Four

Lacey

Being a manic-depressive means I can go from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye and after my meltdown that’s exactly what happened. The following day, I woke up with an abundance of energy, ready to make my maker my bitch. Sure, she made some valid points and even opened my eyes to a lot of things. But I wasn’t going to be a victim of insanity. Somewhere between my breakdown and the dawn of a new day, I accepted my newfound fate as a single mother and decided I wasn’t going to fail the most important role of my life.

I thought about my first doctor’s visit and how over-protective I instantly became after Dr. Heltzer revealed the dangers of taking my meds while pregnant. I even relived the argument that followed between me, and Blackie. I was so passionate about protecting our child and somehow, I lost sight of that. I let Blackie’s addictions, his poor choices and our failing marriage get the best of me. In the past that might’ve been acceptable, but now it wasn’t just me. Every time I let myself go, I let my child down and when your child only has you, well, that’s not okay. It’s fucking wrong and as clarity set in, I vowed to do better.

Dr. Spiegel saw me the next morning, and I was very honest during our session. I told her that Blackie had been arrested and that I found drugs in his kutte. I also told her about the episode with my maker and how I felt my whole marriage was a lie. I won’t say she tried to sway me to think differently, but she did remind me of past sessions and the times I told her he rescued me from the darkness.

Still, I couldn’t erase the seed of doubt my treacherous mind had planted, and I was starting to believe Blackie was looking for a way out of our marriage. He wasn’t trying to escape the club anymore but rather a life he never really wanted. A life I forced upon him.

Riggs says I should go see him but the thought of going to visit him turns my stomach. According to the self-proclaimed Tiger, that’s the only way I’ll get answers since no one knows what was going on in Blackie’s head when he hired the lawyer and dropped the teddy bear on my lap. I think I’m better off not knowing. I can’t bear another lie or another goodbye. Maybe in time, I’ll feel differently but I can’t worry about him and his need to destroy himself. My focus needs to be on my own health and on the baby he may never know. The baby he probably never wanted.

The thought causes me to drop my hand protectively to my stomach. A frown ticks the corner of my lips as a lump gets lodged in my throat. If there’s anything I don’t want, it's for my child to feel unwanted.

To feel unloved.

To feel everything, I’m feeling right now.

A knock sounds at the door and I quickly cinch the paper gown covering me, tighter. While I was in Dr. Spiegel’s office, I realized I had also missed my appointment with my OBGYN. Now, here I am, two weeks later than scheduled, sitting in the exam room, staring at the dreadful stirrups. I’m just as uncomfortable as I was the dayfa we confirmed my pregnancy. Even more so because I’m by myself, but I try not to dwell on that. After all, it’s something I’m going to have to get used to.

“Lacey,” Dr. Heltzer greets with a smile as he enters the room. “How are you doing?”

If that’s not a loaded question, I don’t know what is. For a moment I contemplate how to answer. Unless the good doctor lives under a rock, he’s surely heard about Blackie’s arrest. It was all over the news and plastered on the front page of every newspaper. Still, I rather not divulge the fact my husband is being tried on a murder case to the man who is about to stick his hand between my legs.

No, thank you.

Pulling on a pair of gloves, the latex snaps against his skin as he takes a seat on the stool.

“I mean has the morning sickness run its course?” he clarifies, lifting one of my legs and positioning the heel of my foot in the stirrup.

Awkward.

Before he has a chance to hoist my other leg, I follow his lead. Instinctively my knees close and I divert my eyes to the ceiling. How am I ever going to give birth if I can barely hold it together for an examination?

“I haven’t thrown up much in the last few days,” I ramble nervously, leaving out the fact my stomach has been mostly empty.

“That’s good. Scutch down a little lower…that’s it…a little more,” he directs, gently pushing my knees apart. “It’s still a little early in the pregnancy to do an abdominal sonogram and I’d like to get a reading on the baby’s heartbeat,” he explains as he grabs the probe and sheathes it. “I take it Mr. Petra won’t be joining us today?”

And there it is.

The first of what I’m sure will be many times people ask where my absentee husband is. I know I’m not the first woman to have a baby by herself. I mean, think of all those military wives. They’re holding down the home front while their husbands are on the front lines. I know, not the same. My husband isn’t a hero. He didn’t leave me for the greater good of nothing.

“It’s just me,” I reply hoarsely.

He lifts his eyes and gives me a sad smile.

Pity.

It has a face and right now Dr. Heltzer owns it.

“We’ll just have to make sure to get some extra pictures for Daddy,” he says softly. Tears fill my eyes as I force a smile and nod my head. A moment later Dr. Heltzer encourages me to relax and inserts the probe. The black screen illuminates with my uterus and I gasp when I see how much my little kidney bean of a baby has grown in two weeks.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, giving in to the tears that are obscuring my vision. “My bean isn’t a bean anymore.”

“Wait until next months visit,” Dr. Heltzer replies as he takes measurements and freeze frames the images on the screen. All of a sudden, a foreign noise fills the room.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!

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