Behind her walked a woman in tan scrubs, pretty locs pulled into a bun.
“You must be Gage. I’m Elle, the OB on call here at Serenity.”
“Nice to meet you.” I shook her hand. Her grip was firm and confident. “Not to be rude, but you look younger—Mahasin-type young. Have you been doing this long enough to care for Mahasin and my baby during this pregnancy?”
“The pleasure is all mine. And I am indeed twelve years Mahasin’s senior—and I taught her everything she knows.” She smiled, unbothered by my question. “I closed my own practice to spend more time with my family and agreed to be Mahasin’s on-call OB because she couldn’t possibly survive without me. And no offense taken, Gage—I know I look damn good,” she grinned. “And I can respect the fact that you’re looking out for the well-being of your child and its mother. Keep impressing me, and I’ll talk Mahasin out of being pure hell when them hormones really start kicking her ass.”
I was waiting for the laugh to indicate Mahasin beinghellwas a joke—but there was none.
“Speak of the devil and she shall appear,” Amber said, pointing in the direction of Mahasin walking down the hallway.
She strutted toward us—legs endless in thigh-hugging, distressed black shorts and a sheer black, high-neck top adorned with multicolored glittering dots. Her hot pink heels matched the soft pout on her lips and clicked confidently against the marble floor, making a nigga’s heart thump.
Damn.
If she thought she was going anywhere but out to eat with me after this appointment, she had another thing coming.
“Morning,” she said, a little too professional for my liking.
“Morning, baby mama,” I said, eyes locked on her.
“Don’t start calling me that, Gagey Pooh.”
I held my chest as if she’d sent daggers through my heart. “Aight, deal,mama.”
Amber smiled as her eyes flickered between us, picking up on every pitch of lust we were throwing.
“Will the used Q-tip be joining us? ‘Cause I made sure to put on my sneakers with the good grips.”
“Amber,” Mahasin warned.
“Just a question,” she shrugged.
“Come on, mama-to-be, let’s get this show on the road so you can get out those heels you aren’t supposed to be wearing,” Elle said slyly.
We trailed the hall until we reached Exam Room 7. The room was soft and bright, with a warm, welcoming aura. Mahasin went into an ensuite bathroom and closed the door.
“She gotta pee already?” I asked.
“Nope. I mean, well, maybe. But she’s changing from the waist down—she wants a vaginal exam done as well,” Amber replied.
“So, you gonna be digging in her pussy?” It sounded playful, but I was dead serious. I just thought we were going to use a little jelly on the belly and see some black-and-white screen that looked like the TVs back in the day, when you didn’t have cable.
“What, you thought you were the only one exploring that bougie pussy today?”
“Amber, please!” Mahasin called from the bathroom.
Making her way back into the room in one of those hospital gowns, I assisted her onto the exam table. My mind could’ve been playing tricks on me, but I could’ve sworn she was shaking, and nervousness rested in her face.
“Okay, hand me the transabdominal first, and we can start measurements,” she said, already reaching for the probe.
Elle smacked her hand lightly, and Mahasin gave her a look.
“You’re not the doctor today, Ms. St. James—you’re the patient. Now, hoist them feet up and scoot further down,” Elle instructed.
I understood none of the terminology Elle used, but she measured, opened tools, and moved around that room like Michael Jordan on the court. At the end of the ten-minute exam—which felt like forever—Elle looked at me and said, “So far, everything is perfect below, and Mommy is measuring four months pregnant.”
Mahasin and I must’ve been on the same wavelength, because as I looked down to smile at her, she was already looking up, smiling at me. I took one of her hands into mine and brought it to my lips, kissing every one of her knuckles.
