Page 81 of Lost
My eyes narrow, shaking my head. “You’re not supposed to be walking, are you?”
“Nope. Don’t tell my mates,” she whispers, making me giggle. “They’re shoveling the drive so you can leave today.”
“They aren’t going to work?” I lift the blanket so she can join me on the bench, and she snuggles against me.
“The company is closed outside of a skeleton crew until after the new year. I technically don’t have to be in either, so we all said fuck it.”
“Sounds like a good deal,” I tease her, continuing to finish my coffee. “I am going to see patients today and scheduled a ton of new appointments to see if I’m the right midwife for four different packs next week.”
“Since you probably will be, are you telling me you’ll be really busy soon?” she asks.
“Not really, I always make sure that there are different due dates for my clients, and no more than two due in the same month,” I explain. “With my luck, everyone would go into labor at the same time and I’d be screwed. I also don’t see all of my clients in the same week when I have a full roster.”
“I have a wild idea,” Hollis murmurs. “Have you thought about establishing a brick and mortar practice? You can still goto your clients, but it would also give those that can’t have people over a place as well. Say, maybe, those living in a shelter?”
My eyes narrow as I glance at her, finishing off my beverage before I decide to respond. I know she wants me to stay in Minneapolis, and there’s not really a reason for me not to. I have Tyde, family, and clients here.
I also possibly have two growly, grumpy scent matches that I need to figure out what to do with.
“Go on,” I say.
“What if you went non-profit, Nova? Then, you’d have more resources, the ability to hire a staff, and could help more people. Minneapolis needs a birth center.”
“Shit,” I sigh, rubbing underneath my eye as I think. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about organizing a non-profit, Hollis. I won’t deny that the wheels are turning in my mind though. It would give more people access to midwifery care, and the ability to home birth. We’d still have to keep it fairly small if I’m going to be able to continue to see clients at their homes.”
“How many days a week are you on the road?” Hollis asks.
“On a normal week? Where my life isn’t a mess, two days max. However, I’m a dumpster fire lately, so my schedule is all over. I offer postpartum services for after birth, and that’s a full six weeks of care,” I explain. “My client was left by her partner during her pregnancy, and has been feeling overwhelmed, which makes sense. I should call her on my drive to check up on her.”
The last part is mumbled under my breath as I try to prioritize my time.
“God, you’re such a good person,” Hollis says happily.
“‘Me?” I ask, almost looking around to see if there’s anyone else she could be speaking to.
“Mmhmm,” she grunts. “You deliver babies for a living, and I have a feeling you offer your services for less at times.”
“Only when absolutely necessary,” I grumble. “The client I just spent a little over six weeks with had the beginnings of postpartum depression and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened. So I gave her a really big discount and refused to tell her. Pack Dresmond overpaid me so it all worked itself out.”
“Is this Nova’s version of karma?” Hollis asks.
Unable to help it, I laugh. “Something like it.”
“As for not knowing anything about non-profits, I know people who can help you navigate that. Lawyers, the co-founders of Omega’s Haven, and even a possible list of people who would want to attend a charity event,” my sister continues. “Just because you haven’t thought about it before, doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”
“And people would really want a birth center here?” I ask.
“I’ll show you,” she says cryptically.
Her phone rings, and she smirks as she stands.
“Pretty sure they just realized that I slipped out of the house,” she grins. “I’ll see you later, baby sister.”
“Bye,” I say in awe as she leaves.
Hollis Edwards is definitely larger than life.
Sighing, I get up and head inside to get ready for the day. A long sleeved blue and gold dress goes over my head with a pair of thick fleece tights and boots, before I stare at myself as I brush out my hair. Deciding on a fishtail braid to keep it out of my face, my fingers quickly style my hair before I check my medical bag and walk into the living room.
