Page 12 of Doctor Mile High
I should have listened to myself a year ago when I wanted to quit. Before I got pregnant, and right when Landon threw a plate of food at me for ordering him the wrong sandwich. Maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting here with ankles the size of four sausages.
“Hey, Dovey. Are you doing okay?” Shelly, one of the older secretaries, comes by the desk and hands me a smoothie.
“Oh, I couldn’t. Please, you keep it.”
“It has prenatal vitamins, protein, and it’s your favorite, a strawberry smoothie. I’ve been watching you. You’ve barely eaten today or drank enough water. You need to take care of yourself, Dovey. I’m worried and so are the others.”
I rub my belly as I take large gulps of the smoothie, not stopping until a sharp, cold pain reaches my brain.
“Don’t drink it so fast! You’ll get a brain freeze. Are you that hungry? Do you need me to make you another one?” Shelly leans down and whispers, “I know he doesn’t let you take your breaks. You never have time to eat. I have a number for a lawyer?—”
“I can’t, Shelly.” I give her a sad smile, taking her hand in mine. “Lawyers cost a lot of money, and I’d need the best one in the city to go against Landon. I can’t risk it. With the baby on the way, I need money. I have the maternity leave. I just need to make it a little longer.”
Her frail, thin hand lands on my shoulder. Her palm is so cold, I can feel the chill through my clothes. “I’ll make you another smoothie, then.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Hush. I’m going to. Someone has to take care of you too, you know.” She softly pats my cheek before walking away.
Shelly reminds me so much of my grandma who died last year, and I miss her so much. Maybe I’ll call my parents and ask them if they can come visit me before the baby comes. I know they would love to be here to help me. They’ve been so supportive and helpful. I’m so lucky to have them as parents. Not many would be excited to know their daughter got pregnant by a stranger while on vacation, but they aren’t the type to demonize or judge. They can’t wait to be grandparents. They send gifts every other week for the nursery that I haven’t built yet. I don’t have the energy, and I don’t want to burden by sixty-year-old father with building it either.
“Dove? Make sure you book all the tickets and hotel rooms for the War-Med Con coming up.” Landon shouts from his office. “And get me some lunch!”
I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths to calm down. Snagging the smoothie, I suck a few gulps, staring daggers into his office while he blabbers on the phone.
How did I end up here?
I pull up a delivery app on my phone and order his favorite sandwich from down the street. That’s the plus side about getting his lunch; I can get it delivered and don’t have to walk a mile to get it. Plus, the only way his order is wrong is if theestablishment prepares it incorrectly. I have his order saved now to save myself the trouble.
No one deserves to be on the other end of Landon’s rage. I won’t sit here and lie; I do enjoy when I’m not on the receiving end of his anger. It isn’t often, and when it isn’t, I get to take a deep breath. Working for him is like walking on eggshells, and I’m not sure how much longer I can take it.
My phone vibrates and I peek at it to see a message from Hanson. I’m so happy I’m not completely alone—Hanson has been such an amazing best friend. He’s been to every doctor’s appointment, every ultrasound, and he’s tried to help me look for Winston to tell him about the baby.
Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to find him. I think he deserves to know, but I want to tell him there’s no pressure to be in this child’s life. Winston is older. He probably has children who are grown adults now and he won’t want to start over again. At the same time, I don’t want to take the choice away from him either. He needs to know, and I won’t ever stop searching for the father of my child.
I peek at the window to Landon’s office. He’s in a chair with his back to me, on the phone while he enjoys his multi-million-dollar New York City view. Since he isn’t focused on me, I swipe the message open to see a photo of Hanson in my small two-bedroom apartment.
Hanson:Crib is built. What do you think?
I gasp, snatching my phone with both hands to stare at the crib I never thought I would have. I planned on going to thrift stores and hopefully finding an affordable one to put next to my bed. Ididn’t really expect to use the nursery, since I don’t have a lot of extra money to decorate it.
Hanson:I found it at an estate sale while I was looking for a grandfather clock. You know how much I love clocks. Anyway, saw this beauty and felt like you had to have it. It was only fifty bucks. They didn’t want it and no one else seemed to either. It needed a little work is all. Grabbed a screwdriver and some new screws, tightened up all the pieces, and it’s good as new. I cleaned it too because who knows how long it’s been since it was cleaned.
“Oh my gosh,” I whisper, covering my mouth with my palm, needing to stifle my surprise so I don’t alert Landon.
Immediately, I text him back:Hanson, I can’t believe you did this! I love the crib so much. Thank you. I can pay you back! I can’t believe it. I’m so grateful. Thank you so much.”
I probably repeated myself too much in the text, but I’m in disbelief. Hanson has been my friend since high school. We’ve been best friends since day one, and he’s always been the best friend a girl could ever ask for.
I fan my face with my hand to dry the tears forming in my eyes. I would blame the pregnancy hormones, but I’m naturally sensitive and emotional so now those feelings are amplified.
“What happened? Did Landon yell at you again? I swear, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind!” Shelly sets down another smoothie like she promised, and I’m already done with the first so I move the straw over to the new cup, taking a fresh sip of the refreshing strawberry flavor.
“No, nothing like that.” I wipe my mouth on a napkin. “It’s my friend, Hanson. Look what he bought for me. He already has it in the nursery.”
Smiling, I show her the picture of Hanson holding up a screwdriver with the crib nestled against the wall. “Wasn’t that so nice of him?”
Shelly holds the phone in her hand and slips on her bright green glasses. “Oh, what a nice man. He seems like a keeper.”
