“I’m not faking anything,” Penny says, holding my hand even tighter. “Honestly, I’ve had the best sex of my life with Eli. I’m completely and utterly satisfied. Nothing to worry about on that front.”
“Good,” Big Pecs says while giving me some serious side-eye.
Hear that, motherfucker . . . my girl is satisfied, so go take your goddamn side-eye somewhere else.
Honestly, what is this guy’s problem? Because I couldn’t come to some appointments, he’s going to be a dick? How unprofessional.
Someone is going to get a riveting Google AND Yelp review after this.
Big Pecs is incredibly intrusive, obsessed with holding pregnant bellies, and has a poppyseed tooth. Bedside manner is lacking, shirts far too small for his monster truck chest, and shows blatant hate toward hockey, which is a sin in Vancouver. One out of ten: would not recommend him.
We spend the next few minutes talking about other pregnancy things while I watch his hand move over her belly, smoothing, gliding . . . stroking. The back of my teeth grinds down out of pure, jealous rage. Call me crazy, but I think Big Pecs has it out for me.
Maybe he thinks I’m some deadbeat baby daddy. That could not be further from the truth. I want to meet our baby. And I’ve formed a bond with Penny that I never expected, never believed was possible.Especially for me.
“Okay, so you two want to find out the sex of the baby?” Big Pecs asks.
“We do,” Penny answers, looking me in the eyes. “Right?”
“Right,” I answer.
“Well, I don’t believe you should find out, so I’m going to hold on to that information.” He sets down the sonogram thing in his hand and stands. “You both have a good day.”
Uh . . . what? Penny looks at me with panic and confusion as a wave of fury beats through me in seconds.
First, he’s going to be a dick to me.
Then he’s going to have his hands all over her stomach.
And question my ability to make my girl come . . .
And now this?
Oh no, he fucking doesn’t.
Not on my goddamn watch.
My hockey aggression rises to the surface as I stand from my chair and say, “We didn’t ask what you wanted. We’re telling you what we want to happen, and as people who are paying your goddamn bills, you will provide us with a service. Now tell us the sex of the baby, you big pec-ed motherfucker.”
The words flow right out of me, unfiltered, straight from the inner beast inside me as my fists clench at my sides.
This guy wants to try to tell us what to do. Well, he’s going to have to go through me first.
“Eli.” Penny tugs on me.
“No,” I say to her. “I’m not going to let this guy dick us around.” I pick up the sonogram wand, shove it at him, and say, “You fucking tell us if this baby has a vagina or a penis right fucking now, or I’m going to show you what it’s like to be defended by me on the ice.”
“Eli, please.”
Big Pecs holds his hands up and says, “Slow down there, big guy.” Throwing down the big guy, yeah, I’ll show him just who the big guy is. “It’s a joke I play on my patients. It’s just a joke. Of course I’m going to tell you the sex of your baby.”
You would think that would defuse me, but it doesn’t.
“It’s not a fucking funny joke. Usually, people laugh at jokes. Do you see anyone laughing? Not to mention, it’s incredibly unprofessional. You’ve been a total nightmare this entire visit, and it’s taking everything in me not to slam you against the wall for the way you’ve spoken to me, the way you’ve degraded me in front of Penny, and this—”
Penny tugs on my arm. “Eli. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay, Penny. He’s been dicking us around.”
