“What?” I asked, surprised by his question. “Uh, I’m not sure. I was never very regular after I had Nathan.”
“Is it possible that you’re pregnant?” he asked.
“No, absolutely not,” I insisted. “I had my tubes tied years ago.”
He pinned me with a serious look. “Annabelle, tubal ligation is not 100% effective against pregnancy.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry. What did you just say to me?” I screeched.
“I’m saying that there is a small chance you’re pregnant. Your symptoms and missing period are prime indicators. I’ll run get a test from the clubhouse and we’ll know for sure in just a few minutes.”
I sat there in total disbelief. Why in the hell did I have my tubes tied if it wasn’t an effective way to prevent pregnancy? I don’t remember them telling me that shit. I thought if you got your tubes tied, you didn’t have any more children. End of story.
My disbelief soon turned into panic. I was too old to have another child. Way too old. Phoenix and I had just gotten married. We were just starting a life together. He knew I had my tubes tied. He wasn’t very happy about it at first, but he never mentioned it again. Then, another thought occurred to me. What if Ember got pregnant on her honeymoon? We would be having babies at the same time! Our family was fucked up enough already without adding mother/daughter pregnancies to the mix.
By the time Patch returned, I had worked myself into a complete tizzy. He pulled a box out of his cut and handed it to me. “Here you go. You know how those work, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Patch. Pee on stick. Not complicated.”
I entered the bathroom, yet again, and stared at the box in my hands. I wasn’t pregnant. I had a stomach virus and I would prove it by peeing on the terrifying little stick in my hand. I took a deep breath and figured it was better to just get it over with. If I didn’t do it right then, I would torture myself with the unknown until I was forced to face the situation.
I followed the instructions on the box and placed the stick on the counter when I was finished. Then, I fled the bathroom like I’d found an alien invader in the toilet. I dove into the bed and covered my head with my pillow.
Patch laughed. “I guess that means I have to go get the results.”
“You’re the damn doctor,” I snarked.
Two minutes later, I felt the bed depress from Patch’s weight. “Annabelle, you’re not sick, sweetheart, you’re pregnant.”
Phoenix
What in the hell was taking Patch so long? Annabelle swore up and down she had a stomach virus. Patch was a skilled physician. He should be able to confirm that in a matter of minutes. And what the hell did he need to get from the clubhouse? Did she not have a virus? Was it something else? What if she had cancer and they were trying to figure out how to tell me?
Despite my growing panic, I held off a little while longer. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I barged into the room, banging the door against the wall. Patch was sitting on the edge of the bed and Annabelle was sitting up crying. No, not crying, she was sobbing. “What the fuck is going on in here?”
Annabelle raised her reddened eyes to mine and threw something at me. Not expecting her to hurl an object at me, it hit my chest before I could catch it. I managed to grab the thing before it hit the ground, but it took me a few seconds to realize what I was holding. Then, a few more seconds to read what I was holding. I looked up and met her eyes. “Did you just throw a stick you peed on at me?”
“Is a frog’s ass watertight?” she quipped.
I ignored her smartass retort and asked my own question. “You’re pregnant?”
She huffed and crossed her arms. “According to that damn stick and this doctor I am. Apparently, tubal ligations aren’t completely effective at preventing pregnancy.”
Patch added, “She needs to have an ultrasound done to confirm it and make sure it isn’t an ectopic pregnancy, which is one that is in the tubes and not the uterus. Ectopic pregnancies are more common after a tubal ligation and are life-threatening. I suggest you have it done sooner rather than later.”
I smiled, bigger than I think I’d ever smiled before. I strolled over to the bed and pulled Annabelle into my arms. I didn’t give a shit what her breath smelled like. She was having my baby, again, and I couldn’t have been happier. I captured her lips with mine and let her know just how happy I was.
Patch cleared his throat, reminding me he was in the room. “Sorry, man,” I said to him. I redirected my attention to Annabelle. “We’ll step out so you can get dressed.”
“For what?”
“I’m taking you to have that ultrasound. Patch said the sooner the better and I’m not taking any chances with you, so let’s go, woman,” I ordered.
“Phoenix, I can’t just go have an ultrasound. I have to make an appointment first. Hell, I have to find an OB/GYN first,” she protested.
“Patch, you can do an ultrasound, right?” I asked.
“Yes, I can.”
