Page 59 of Carnal Urges
She thinks for a moment. “There are several conditions that raise the level of proteins in the blood. Recent miscarriage or abortion. Ectopic pregnancy, where a fertilized egg implants in the fallopian tubes. Some medications. Certain health conditions.”
“Like what?”
“I’d have to look it up for a complete list, but off the top of my head… kidney disease. Rheumatoid factors. Cancer.”
“What kinds of cancer?”
“Ovarian, primarily.”
Oh god. That’s what my mother died of. A pang of panic makes my heartbeat surge, but I breathe through it. “What about exposure to the drug ketamine?”
“That’s an anesthetic. It wouldn’t affect the test results.”
“Anything else you can think of?”
“No.”
“Okay. Thanks for the info. I appreciate it. Since I’m here, can we check for tumors on my ovaries? And let’s also do all the other blood tests I need to look for kidney disease and whatever else.”
“Why don’t we do another pregnancy test first?”
“I know I’m not pregnant.”
I can tell she’s thinking I’m in total denial, but she wisely doesn’t mention that.
“All right. I’ll order the tests.”
“Thank you.”
She stares at me for a moment, troubled. Pointing her thumb over her shoulder toward the door, she says, “So…”
“The head of the Irish mafia kidnapped me. Yeah.”
“But…”
I wave a hand in the air. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. He got the worse end of the deal. We’ll probably be back here in a week when he has the massive coronary he’s got brewing. Hey, would itbe possible for me to get a protein smoothie? Oh, and could I also ask you to please call Lakeside Yoga in King’s Beach, Tahoe, and tell them that Sloane has the flu and will be out for a while? If they ask who you are, just say Riley. That’s my little sister.”
I smile at her. She blinks a few more times, looking totally confused, before turning and walking out.
I slide down in bed, pull the covers over my face, close my eyes, and start silently repeating positive affirmations.
I’m not pregnant.
I’m not pregnant.
I’m not… Wait. That’s a negative phrasing, not a positive one. We need to keep it positive. Try again.
I am free from a baby.
I am baby-less.
I am without child.
I am non-pregnant.
I am a total fucking moron.
Groaning, I flip the covers off my face and stare at the ceiling. I spend a while counting the cracks in the ceiling tiles, until I realize this is the perfect scenario for Declan to unburden himself of me.
