Perfect Bastard (Mason Creek) - Page 60

He’d been moving about as I stood still. “I’m hardly here and left the decorating to Jean. I just need a place to lay my head.”

“It’s certainly a pretty place with an even better view.”

“It’s why I bought it.”

I took in the kitchen where he stood looking at me across the room. There was so much we needed to talk about, but neither of us was taking the initiative to start. I let my eyes travel to the other parts of the room I could see and spotted a shiny object in the wall near the hallway. I narrowed my eyes and walked to it.

“Is this art or—” I began.

“Something else.”

It was a ring. A gorgeous ring, from what I could see. Nate’s phone rang before I could ask him about it.

“Great. Send her up,” he said into his phone. Then to me, he said, “She’s here.”

“I’m going to the bathroom before she gets up.”

He pointed to the hallway. “The first door on the left.”

I did and closed myself in. The mirror revealed what I’d been afraid of. I was deathly pale. My hair looked limp, and my eyes were sunken. What a horrible picture I made. I heard the bell of the elevator and quickly splashed water on my face before coming out.

“I assume you’re my patient. I’m Doctor Bass.” The woman who held her hand out had kind eyes, and I immediately liked her.

“Yes. I’m Avery Bean,” I blurted, then looked at Nate. I didn’t know if I should have given her that information or not.

“Yes, Mr. Bowmen informed me. Now, where should we set up?” In her hand was the handle of a small suitcase.

“We can go to the master,” Nate said.

We followed him down the hall I’d been in, to the end. The room was massive and had a wall of windows, like the living area. He went and drew the curtains while Dr. Bass indicated for me to go to the bed.

“For the first part, I think Avery and I should be alone,” the doc said.

Nate didn’t argue and just left.

“Please remove all your garments from the waist down. I’m going to do a quick exam and then will bring Mr. Bowmen back and have a look at your baby.”

I did as asked, and it was just like any other visit to the gynecologist. “Everything is in order.” She handed me a paper blanket, the kind the office gives you, before calling Nate back in the room. She pulled out a device no bigger than Nate’s hand and handed us an iPad, while she had another. Like in the movies, she squirted some warm gel on my exposed belly and ran it over my middle. “Ah, there we are.” The picture on the iPad could be anything with its shades of black and white. An arrow appeared. “There’s the baby.”

It looked like I’d swallowed a peanut, not a growing baby.

“I’ll just take some measurements.”

Nate’s eyes were glued to the screen, but his expression gave away nothing.

Lines appeared on the screen, and she clicked through things, adding detail I had no way of deciphering. Then, suddenly, there was sound.

“And here we have a heartbeat. A strong one. I’d say you are about seven to eight weeks. When was your last period?” she asked. I told her. “That puts you right around eight weeks. Your due date is approximately September twenty-seventh.”

“Oh, my God. I’m having a baby.” Okay, I’d known that, but seeing and hearing made it so much more real.

“How are you feeling? Any morning sickness?”

“Yes,” Nate and I said at the same time.

“A lot,” I continued. “I can’t eat anything regardless of the time of day without throwing up.”

“All right. Not great, but it happens and is normal for some. I suggest eating a few crackers or a bit of toast in the morning before you get out of bed. Listen to your body. What you may like to eat could change during pregnancy. Eat small meals throughout the day. If it persists, let me know. Baby needs nourishment and so do you. I’ll write you a prescription for vitamins and lots of rest, Mommy.” She rubbed my arm.

“I’ll see you out,” Nate said.

Then I was left alone. I got up and went to the bathroom. Big was the word, but very cold. The tile was all dark gray. Again, stylish for a photoshoot, but it lacked the homey feel. I took a good look at myself in the mirror. My body hadn’t changed. The doc had cleaned most of the gel off, but I used a face towel I found hanging in his bathroom and cleaned off the rest. Then I put my leggings back on and found him alone in the living room, staring out the window.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” I said, opening the door to the conversation we needed to have.

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