EIGHT
Slutty Nurses, Husbands on Their Best Behaviour, and Tricky Babies
Tessa - 8 Weeks 3 Days
“Dr. Dropp will seeyou now.” The nurse glances at me, then right back to Arthur, licking her top lip and batting her eyelashes at him before she turns to lead us down the hall to the exam room.
I force myself not to roll my eyes because a princess doesn’t roll her eyes. Or swear. She smiles politely at women who drool over her gorgeous husband, feeling secure and happy knowing he’ll be going home withherlater, and not the slutty nurse who arches her back in hopes of giving him an eyeful of her enormous boobs.
I mean honestly, the way she’s carrying on, she should be wearing one of those Halloween costumes with the tiny short skirt and zipper that goes all the way down to her navel.
Oh, these pregnancy hormones easily rival PMS. I am a bit of a bear today. But to be fair, I’m rather nervous about today’s appointment. There are SO many things that could go wrong, including but not limited to: Arthur offending Dr. Dropp, followed by every other obstetrician in the kingdom, resulting in me delivering in a bathtub attended by only my husband and Xavier; being told something’s wrong with the baby; finding out there isn’t a heartbeat at all–or if there is one, it’s sluggish or terrifyingly rapid; or discovering I’ve released several eggs at once, they’ve all been fertilized, then divided, and I’m actually carrying octuplets? Or nine babies?
What would that be called, nine-tuplets? Nonatuplets? Good Lord, don’t let there be nine babies in here. I can’t become known around the world as the nono-mom. Plus, there’s just no way I can handle raising nine babies, even with servants and help. I wouldn’t even be able to remember all their names, let alone have time to really get to know them and nurture their individual talents. Oh fuck, I hope there aren’t nine babies in there.
God! What if when they examine me, it turns out I’m missing some vital lady part required for carrying and/or birthing a child? Like the cervix. What is a cervix anyway? Why can’t I remember anything from year seven health class? What kind of woman am I that I don’t really know all my bits and pieces and what they do?
Arthur slips his hand through mine and gives it a squeeze. Leaning into my ear, he murmurs, “Don’t worry. I promise to be on my best behaviour today.”
I snap out of my anxiety frenzy and grin up at him. “Good, because we’re running out of options, and of all the people we know, Xavier seems most qualified to deliver a baby.”
“Won’t say a word, I promise.”
Slutty nurse spins and gestures like Vanna White for us to go into the room to our left.
Yeah, I’ll buy a vowel, Pat. It’s a ‘u’, as in F.U. lady. He’s mine.
Dear lord, where did that come from? I wonder if Kate has thoughts like these? No, never. She’s far too secure and fabulous to let anything like this get to her. Maybe Arthur can introduce us someday and we’ll become lifelong friends and she’ll share the secrets to how to stay so serene all the time. Hmm, I wonder if it’s some sort of Botox treatment that holds her face in that lovely smile no matter...
“Tessa! Wonderful to see you, dear.”
Dr. Dropp stands from the chair behind her desk and walks around to greet us. She’s a tiny little woman with short salt and pepper hair, glasses, and a warm smile. When she shakes my hand, she places the other one over top of it and gives it a comforting pat. Yup. She’s the one.
“Dr. Dropp, can I get you and our new patients anything? Some tea, perhaps?” slutty nurse asks.
Dr. Dropp looks momentarily confused, then shakes her head. “No, thank you. Just close the door on your way out, please, Simone.”
Ha. Yeah, Simone, and don’t let it hit your perfect arse on the way out.
Turning to Arthur, Dr. Dropp holds her hands out in front of her and crouches a little like she’s ready to catch a pass. “Fire away, Your Highness.”
Arthur grimaces, and his face turns a bit red, which is highly un-Arthur-like. He holds both palms up in surrender. “No trick passes today, Dr. Dropp. I promised my wife to be on my best behaviour.”
She laughs and shakes his hand. “Well, that makes one of us.”
“So, I take it the obstetrics community is rather tight-knit?” he says.
“Not really, but you managed to make quite an impression on my colleagues. We’ve seen nervous fathers before, but you may be the champion of the world in that regard.” She gestures for us to sit in the two chairs opposite her desk, and not in a look-at-me-I’m-Vanna-White way, but rather in a welcome-to-my-office-I’m-a-very-competent-doctor way. Once we’re all seated, she looks down at a paper in front of her, then says, “I do not have a vagina fixation. I got into the field because I wanted to help women with their particular health issues. I’ve never misplaced or dropped a baby, even though I’ve been doing this for forty-two years and counting. My hands are as steady as they come because I do yoga every morning to keep limber. I’ve never been drunk and/or high whilst on call, and I know the namesandhow to use all the medical equipment required to bring a child safely into the world. Oh, and I also have never mistaken a bad case of indigestion for pregnancy.” She chuckles when she says that last bit, then takes off her glasses and sits back in her chair, her shoulders shaking.
Arthur tucks his upper lip in and makes a little clicking sound, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“So, do I have the job?” she asks.
We both nod. Arthur clears his throat. “Yes, if you’ll take us on as patients, I’ll do my best to stay back.”
Tilting her head a little, she says, “I don’t need you to stay back. I need you to stay calm. So does your wife.”
“I will do my best.”
