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17

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Bethany

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I’m in the softest, nicest examination gown ever. I’m not really surprised though, there’s a freaking Matisse in the waiting room. My bad, it’s called a lounge and looks more like the lobby of a five-star hotel than a doctor’s office. There’s a refreshment station with coffee, teas, and even hot chocolate I was dying to try but too embarrassed to do more than stare at.

Dante is pacing the length of the exam room as we wait. I wanted him outside, but he flashed his dimples and big brown eyes and I gave in. I’m wondering if I should have, though, after he barked at the nurse for hurting me when she took my blood. He didn’t like it when I made him apologize, but he gave in.

There’s a brief knock before the door opens. Dang, she’s pretty is my first thought, and I tense up until she smiles and instantly I’m calmer. “Hi, nice to meet you, Dante and Bethany. Please, call me Whitney. I was going over your labs. Congratulations, everything looks good. Between your hCG levels and the date of your last period, it looks like you are at five weeks along. Let’s do an ultrasound to confirm, okay?”

I nod as I lean back. I’m surprised at her saying only five weeks. I took it for granted I conceived in Madrid. The gel is cool as she rubs it on my stomach. It takes her a few minutes to find it; anxiety begins to inch up in me until she finally smiles. “There we go. Found him.”

She presses a few buttons and grainy pictures come out immediately. “Hmm, hCG levels were a bit off, it looks like. You’re at seven weeks.”

My stomach plummets. I open my mouth, but Dante asks the question first. “What does that mean? Her hCG levels being low?”

Her smile is reassuring. “Not a thing, hCG levels bounce up and down day to day. If they were exceptionally low, then there would be a cause for concern, but they are still well within a normal parameter.”

Dante’s hand goes around mine, and I cling to him to help me sit up. Whitney hands him the pictures. “Here you go. Bethany, you are a little low on iron. I’m going to include a separate iron supplement, I want you to take it every other day. You’re going to get a pill dispenser, use it, it’s too easy to forget if you took your vitamins or not.”

She writes out two prescriptions, and Dante takes them with a nod. “Any questions for me? Feel free to call me if you have any concerns. I’m going to see you again in a month, then we’ll go from there.”

My eyes are glued to the picture as Dante asks her questions. I can’t shake my unease at the difference from her estimate with the hCG levels to her measuring based off the sonogram.

“Bethany? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

I force down my fear, “Nothing. I can’t believe how tiny it is. It’s the size of a grape right now.”

“Are you sure we can’t find out if it’s a boy or girl?”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Not yet. You’ll have to wait until we hit five months.”

“Fine, does this mean we’ll go with some gender-neutral mint green color in the nursery?”

Fear clogs my throat; I swallow it down. “Do you know in the Jewish culture you don’t buy furniture or decorate or buy clothes until the baby is born?”

“That’s crazy. Where do you put the baby when you bring her home? Do you know how long it’s going to take to put a nursery together?”

“I don’t think it’s a horrible idea. I also know how rich you are, and it will take an hour to buy everything the baby will need and another for it to be delivered. The baby doesn’t need one of those tricked-out nurseries.”

He sighs as he opens the door for me to get into the car. “Sweetheart, stop looking for trouble when there isn’t any. The doctor said—"

“Things happen, miscarriages are more frequent than anyone wants to talk about. I’m just asking you to give it a few months, even a few weeks until we’re out of the first trimester before we start buying stuff and painting rooms.”

“What good does waiting do?”

“What does it hurt? If something does happen we have an empty room decorated for a baby who isn’t coming home.”

“Bethany, it’s silly to let fear prevent you from doing what we need to do to prepare for the baby.”

“So my valid concern is silly? My request for you to respect my concern is silly?” The car stops, we’re at the mobile clinic. I’m so angry and frustrated with Dante I slam out of the car, ignoring him calling after me.

At work I try to focus, but I keep going over the argument in my head. I can’t believe Dante. By the time lunch comes I’m dialing Alicia before I even think of getting food.

“Hey, how did the doctor’s visit go? Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. I’m a little worried. My hCG levels are pretty low from where they should be, from my levels she thought I was only five weeks but by my sonogram it’s seven weeks. Then it took forever for her to find it on the sonogram.”

“Deep breath, hCG levels are all over the place those first few weeks. Mine were—it’s why they do the sonogram to know for sure. It always feels like forever before they find the baby. I also thought she was pressing way too hard the first time.”

“Stop making sense. I’m really angry with Dante right now. He’s—”

“Hold on, wait, stop. One question first. Is whatever he’s doing mentally, physically or emotionally mean or cruel or hurtful?”

“What? Of course not. Why would you ask that?”

“Because pretty much that’s only the reason you should be telling me what’s going on in your relationship. I love you, but what happens in your relationship, all the little things he does to make you crazy, all the petty arguments and disagreements are between you two. Do not take it out to others, except your therapist, and she’ll make the call to bring him in or not.”

I gasp at her order. “Alicia.”

“Don’t Alicia me. Didn’t you read the book I recommended? Do you have any idea how hard it is for the people who love and care about you not to take your side in an argument, but did you really give both sides, and is it really as bad as you think it is? Even if it is, unless it’s really bad and a continuous thing, which is why you should share it with your therapist, don’t drag friends and family into your relationship. Just don’t.”

Damn it. “Fine, whatever.” I hang up on her, pissed at her unwillingness to let me vent and tell me I’m right. Therapy isn’t until tomorrow, and I don’t want to argue with Dante any more. A text comes through from Dante, I ignore it. Even if he’s apologizing I’m not ready to let it go so quickly, and if it’s worse and he’s not apologizing, then I don’t want to get more pissed off at work.

***

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Dante

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Damn it, she’s not reading my text.

“What’s the matter?”

I shake my head. “Bethany. We went to the doctor today and Bethany is spooked. She’s not wanting to decorate a nursery or buy anything for the baby yet.”

“Why is she spooked?”

“Her hCG levels were kind of low but the doctor said it happens, they fluctuate. I looked it up and found the same answer. I told her it was silly to let her fear stop her from planning for what we need to do for the baby.”

I never see the fist come at me, until it slams into my chest. Ow, motherfucker, I choke for air. “Fuck you, Che, what the fuck?”

“You dumbfuck, one in four pregnancies ends in miscarriage. As a health professional and a woman, Bethany has to know that. Alicia had a miscarriage before she got pregnant with Sophia.”

“What? Why didn’t you guys say anything?”

“Because we weren’t even aware she was pregnant. She thought it was a heavy period, but her pain got intense and she had a fever. The minute I felt she was hot I took her into the emergency room, they diagnosed it then. With the fever they thought it best to do a D&C to make sure there was nothing left behind that could cause or might be causing an infection. It was awful. There were a lot of late nights spent holding her while she cried. As bad as it was, it would have been ten times worse if we had known. God forbid if we had come home to a nursery decorated for the baby. We’re talking a whole different level of hell, and that’s all Bethany is asking you to avoid. I hope to hell you guys never experience a miscarriage, but respect Bethany’s fear. Don’t just indulge her as a hormonal woman pregnant with your baby.”

I try imagining the hours spent shopping and buying things for a baby, only to have them sitting there unused. A shudder rips through me. “I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to Bethany and I’ll mean it, and talk to Alicia and let her know please. Bethany wants to wait, then we’ll wait.”

“Good, there’s nothing wrong with waiting. Are you guys really going to stay in the condo?”

“We hadn’t discussed it actually. We’ve been in a happy stupor. Haven’t even talked names, just me wanting a girl, her wanting a boy. If she doesn’t want to leave the condo I’m good. We do only have the one free room right now though. I’m thinking of maybe getting rid of my workout room and using yours, if that’s all right?”

“You know, I’ve been thinking. My place is sitting empty, when we stay in the city it’s easy for us to stay in the apartment above the office. Why don’t you knock down some walls and join the two places together? We’ll call it a wedding gift.”

“Are you serious?” It would be perfect, to turn my workout room and office into bedrooms and use Che’s already set up would make everything easier. We’ll need to redecorate the other side to make everything more cohesive, but it wouldn’t take much to do it.  

“Yeah, it makes perfect sense. You guys are going to need more room. It’s crazy how much stuff comes with one small baby.”

“No gift though, I’ll pay market value.”

Che shakes his head. “No, it’s a gift. If you argue with me I’ll sic Alicia on you.”

***

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Bethany

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When I see the car waiting I straighten, ready to lay into Dante, only Charlie gets out to open the door for me. Dante isn’t in the car. Wind taken out of my sails, I sag into the seat as I fasten my seat belt. What is up with him? Is he mad at me? And how dare he be mad at me when I’m mad at him. I finally read the text at the end of the day. All it said was sorry. It wasn’t much of an apology as far as I’m concerned.

Opening the door to the condo, I’m surprised at how quiet it is. He isn’t in the library or his gym. I go in to find the couch is moved and our red silky comforter laid out on the floor with large pillows scattered on top. There’s a basket I’m guessing is filled with food, but Dante is having a hard time keeping Mittens and Maude off the comforter and away from the basket, ruining the romantic feeling he’s going for.

“What are you doing?”

He’s kneeling with Mittens in his arms. He sighs as he sits back on his heels. “I’m sorry for being an asshole. I’m sorry for not respecting your fear and concern. Whatever way you want to do the next nine months, the next fifty years of our life, that’s how we’ll do it.”

Dante Sabatini, billionaire, former manwhore extraordinaire, know-it-all who is always right, is down on his knees with a kitten in his arms and another cat climbing up his shoulders, saying he’s sorry. How the mighty have fallen. At least I’m not the only one.

“Does this mean we can get another kitten?”

He shrugs. “What’s one more? Mittens needs a partner in crime.”

I’m down on my knees now. Dante sets Mittens down to pull me into his arms. “You forgive me?”

“Hmm, I guess. You are pretty good at apologizing.”

“I try. We’ll focus on the wedding. I got a few wedding planners you can interview. Then this weekend you and Alicia can go shopping for a wedding dress.”

“You have all the answers.”

“For you. Let’s take this basket to bed, these cats are driving me crazy and I want to be able to focus on driving you crazy.”

“Sounds good to me.”