Page 20 of Doctor Mile High
“It looks amazing. Thank you. For everything, Hanson. I mean it. There’s no way I could have made this journey without you.” I rub my belly, doing my best not to tear up.
“Hey, no tears. None of that.” Hanson cuts me a piece of chicken and set’s it on my plate, adding a few roasted potatoes and green beans. “You’ll always have me, Dove. No matter what. Go on, eat up. Then, I’ll show you the nursery. How was your day? Tell me about it.”
I stab my fork into the green beans with a little too much violence.
“That good, huh?” Hanson chuckles, chewing a piece of chicken.
I sigh, realizing I’m more exhausted than hungry, and push my food around my plate. “I hate Landon. He’s such a terrible boss. I think he’s going to fire me when I have the baby. He can’t legally fire me now, but once I’m on maternity leave? Who knows what he’ll do, Hanson. I need this job, but Landon stresses me out. He makes the entire office miserable.”
“What did he do now?” Hanson sneers.
He’s never met Landon, but like the good friend that he is, he hates my boss by proxy.
“In order for me to have the weekend off, I had to agree to go to the War-Med Con and book the accommodations.”
Hanson drops his fork and folds his hands together, clearly pissed off. “You told him no, right?”
“Hanson—”
“Come on, Dove. You have to be responsible here. It isn’t about you anymore.”
I stand, slamming my fist on the table. “Excuse me? Not about me? Do you think I’ve stayed at this damn abusive job for my fucking health?” I yell, tears burning my eyes from how angry I am.
“You can’t keep making the excuse that this is about money, Dove. This is about you being too afraid to be without this job.”
“How dare you,” I snarl, voice full of venom and exhaustion. Tears finally fall from the rage fueling my body. “You have no idea what it’s like being a single pregnant woman. Do you know how much it costs to have a baby? Yes, I need the insurance so the birth is paid for, Hanson. I need money to prepare. He offered me five thousand dollars to go to this Con, and yes, I shouldn’t go. That’s the smart thing to do, but I’m not able to have that luxury.”
“You’re going to have to sacrifice certain things now, Dove. You can’t work yourself to death. You can’t sacrifice your health for money. Jesus, what if you go into labor on the plane? Or when you’re there.”
I close my eyes as I take a deep breath. “I’m not going to go into labor on the plane. My god, Hanson. They have hospitals there. I’ll be fine. I’m not due until I get back from the trip anyway.”
“You can’t be that stupid.” He licks his teeth, sucking them with his tongue.
“Stupid?” I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for him to say what he means.
“You’re putting yourself at risk.”
“I have to!” I yell, choking on a sob.
I catch myself on the edge of the table when a Braxton Hicks contraction shoots across my stomach. I gasp, holding the side of my belly. All I can do is wait for it to pass.
“Is it time? Are you okay?” Hanson stands, pushing the seat back so hard it crashes on the hardwood floor.
“I’m fine,” I snap. “It’s not a real contraction.”
“Maybe we need to calm down. I don’t want our fight to cause early labor or put stress on you.”
I chuckle, then stare up at the ceiling trying to gather the rest of my energy to deal with him. He has me in disbelief for the first time in our entire friendship.
“I’m already stressed, Hanson. You’re so unbelievable. Are you that close-minded? I’m a woman in a male-dominated industry. I have to fight tooth and nail against them every damn day. I have to hear disgusting remarks about myself more than three times a day. I live in a very small two-bedroom apartment and need all the cash I can get my hands on to make sure I can be the best mother to my child. That means making sacrifices. Doyou think I want to be on my feet all day? Do you think it’s easy for me to be this pregnant and working? I’m exhausted. To my fucking bones. And you sit there and have the audacity to say I need to sacrifice or I’m not doing enough? I’m doing everything!” I scream, pointing a finger at my chest. “I’m doing all I can. I’m making sure my child has health insurance. I’m making sure I don’t have the debt of labor hanging over us when he or she is born so I don’t have to work more to pay that off. I will work until my fucking water breaks, Hanson. I don’t have the luxury otherwise.”
“Do you need money? I can give you the five thousand.”
I rear back. “You would offer me money? You have no idea what it’s like to work like this since you have a nice trust fund. The nerve to sit there and judge me when you’re so far from relating to me. I don’t want your money. And I don’t want your help.” I point to the front door. “Get out.”
Hanson’s anger flees, softening in sadness. “Dove, no. Come on. We can figure this out. I was just worried about you and I want you to be safe.”
“All I got from our conversation is your judgment. Please, leave.”
