Becca was almost ten weeks pregnant, going by the date of her last period, but her cycles weren’t regular, so Kerry gave them paperwork for a dating ultrasound.
“I’ll call you with the results of the scan, and based on that, we’ll set up appointments. Monthly for a while, then they’ll get closer together.”
“Do you ever do weekend or evening appointments?” This was Mr. Kincaid asking, his voice catching on the words like they were barbed. “Becca has school until June.”
“Dad, it’s fine.”
“Our clinic days run until five, but depending on what time school lets out, I could stay a bit later. And it depends what office you want to see us in as well. You live in Pine Harbour, right?” Kerry pasted on her best you’re-in-luck smile and leaned forward. “That should make it easier, then, especially as the appointments get closer together. We’re opening a satellite office in Pine Harbour next month.”
“Oh!” Becca said.
Her father scowled. “Oh.”
She glanced back and forth between them, trying to translate the monosyllabic responses. “You can still come here for appointments, if that’s your preference.”
Becca didn’t reply and her father waited. At least he seemed to follow her cues. Finally, she shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a long drive.”
Kerry took a deep breath. “Either way, the appointments are confidential. Think about it and let me know. You’ll get an email with the next appointment details in a few days, and you can pick the location later.”
Owen was the first to stand. He already took up a lot of oxygen in a room while sitting and scowling. When he pushed to his feet, he towered over her. She’d have to jump onto her chair to look him in the eye, and if she tried that, she’d probably go sailing onto the exam table. Instead, she did her solid best to ignore him and focus on Becca as the Kincaids left.
It took less than ninety seconds for the clinic receptionist, Sarah, to appear in Kerry’s doorway. “How’d that go? You were in here with her alone for a while.”
“She was great,” Kerry said simply.
“I don’t mean the girl. How did it go with Mr. Alpha?”
She gave Sarah a pointed look. “No gossiping about the clients. Or their fathers.”
“Ooooh.” The receptionist sagged against the door frame, then leaned her head back, laughed, and fell forward into Kerry’s office, sinking into the chair Mr. Alpha himself had vacated just a few minutes before. As much as Kerry didn’t like to admit it, the nickname fit. He had a certain leader of the pack, don’t mess with my daughter vibe usually reserved for fictional characters.
Sarah blew a raspberry. “Her father. That explains a lot. I had some questions about their whole dynamic.”
“You and me both,” Kerry admitted.
“He’s pretty hot for an old guy.”
She made a noncommittal face. “I don’t have a read on him yet. He didn’t say much. But Becca’s great.”
“No commentary on the hot dad?”
“Nope.”
“That’s no fun.”
Kerry winked. “I save all my fun for after hours. Are we still on for dancing on Friday night?”
She didn’t have many more weekends of dancing left before she moved north. “You know it.”
When Sarah left, Kerry finished her notes, then checked the computer system to remind herself of her afternoon schedule. Lunch first, then two more appointments. That would give her enough time to call around and get some quotes for movers.
She had moved seven times in the last fourteen years. Until now, she hadn’t had the funds to afford professionals. She had a short list of moving companies she’d cribbed from review sites. The first place went straight to an answering machine. She left a message with her quote request, then moved on to the next. A person answered there, but only took the same information and told her someone would call back in a few days.
That wasn’t promising.
Maybe the third try would be the charm. This one she’d put a star next to anyway, because she liked the sounds of it. A local company run by army veterans.
She punched in the number. Someone picked up on the second ring. “Warriors Moving, Adam speaking.”
