Читать книгу The Mountain Between Us - Cindy Myers - Страница 11

CHAPTER FIVE

Something about sitting practically naked on a paper-covered table in a doctor’s office made Maggie feel like a five-year old—vulnerable and at the mercy of everyone who was bigger than her. She had to fight the urge to curl into a ball and suck her thumb. “You appear to be in good health, Maggie, so I don’t anticipate you’ll have any problems with the pregnancy,” Dr. Racine, an obstetrician Maggie had selected from the phone book, tapped away at her computer keyboard. “Of course, being a first-time mother at your age does put you in the category of high risk. I want to order an ultrasound and some blood work. I’m going to write you a prescription for prenatal vitamins and I’ll give you some instructions on diet. You want to eat healthy, but I don’t want you to gain too much weight. And you’ll need a nuchal translucency scan after twelve weeks, a maternal protein measurement, an alpha fetoprotein test and, of course, amniocentesis, and a CVS to check for chromosome abnormalities.”

Maggie squirmed, overwhelmed by the onslaught of instructions. And here she’d thought her biggest concern would be which stroller to purchase. “All those tests—what are they looking for?”

“We want to make sure the baby is healthy and developing normally.”

“Do you think it isn’t?” Alarmed, she put one hand on her stomach, as if she could somehow protect the child growing inside.

The doctor swiveled around to face Maggie, her expression that of someone used to dealing with emotional mothers. “Your baby is probably fine, Maggie. But your age does put the baby at a higher risk for birth defects, so we want to check that out.”

“And if you find something wrong?”

“Then we’ll have other decisions to make. But you shouldn’t worry about that now.” She turned back to the computer screen. “What about the father?”

The doctor’s words brought Maggie out of her fog. “What about him?” Did the doctor need to know Jameso’s name for some form or other?

“Is he going to be involved in the pregnancy and labor?”

“Oh, uh, yes. Yes, he wants to be involved.” Jameso had said he wanted to be part of his child’s life, hadn’t he? Though how involved, exactly, could he be in the pregnancy?

“There’ll be childbirth classes for the two of you later, of course, but before then he’ll probably want to attend the ultrasound, and I’d like to see him at at least a few of your prenatal appointments. Meanwhile, he can read this.” She handed Maggie a booklet, The New Dad’s Guide to Pregnancy. The cover showed an impossibly young couple on the front, both grinning like idiots at a baby in the father’s arms.

Maggie felt nauseous, but not from morning sickness. She scarcely listened to the rest of the doctor’s instructions, dressed hurriedly, and fled the office to the safety of her Jeep. This was really happening. She was going to have a baby. Jameso’s baby.

With trembling hands, she dug her phone from her purse.

“Hello?” Barb had to shout to make herself heard.

“What is that roaring sound?” Maggie asked, raising her own voice.

“I think it’s a compressor. The painters are spraying Michael’s old room.”

“I thought you just redecorated that room.” Barb was perpetually redecorating her home in Houston’s upscale Woodlands neighborhood.

“I did. I painted the walls lavender. I planned to use it as my meditation retreat. But now I have to paint it back white.”

“Why?”

“Michael’s moving back home. He lost his job and his girlfriend kicked him out.”

Michael, Barb’s only child, was nineteen, a college dropout who until recently had worked as a delivery driver for an auto parts manufacturer. “Oh, Barb, I’m so sorry.”

“Me too. But hopefully it won’t be long term. Jimmy’s going to try to get him on down at the golf course.” Jimmy, Barb’s husband, was chief financial officer at a big oil company, though his true love—other than Barb, of course—was golf. He spent as much time on the links as he did in his office. “Meanwhile, this couldn’t have come at a worse time. I should be decorating for our Halloween party. The theme this year is Attack of the Zombies.”

“Sounds fun.” Barb was a renowned hostess, throwing parties that regularly garnered mention in Houston’s society news.

“It will be fabulous, of course. But how are you doing?”

“I just had my first appointment with the obstetrician.”

The roaring sound of the compressor faded as Barb moved into a quieter part of the house. “How did it go?”

“I’m definitely pregnant. Six weeks. The baby is due around the first week in June.” That seemed so far away. She’d have been in Eureka a year by then. “The doctor wants to do all these tests—for birth defects. I guess because I’m so old.”

“You are not old!” Barb was a year older than Maggie.

“I’m old for a first-time mother.”

“You’ll be fine, and the baby will be fine. I know it.”

When Barb said it, Maggie could believe it.

“I’m so excited for you,” Barb continued. “What does Jameso say?”

“He asked me to marry him.”