Not anymore.
Chapter 21 - Rodion
Dr. Jackson arrived at two o'clock, carrying a worn medical bag and wearing the same sensible shoes I remembered from childhood.
I met her at the elevator, struck by how little she'd changed. A bit more gray in her hair, a few more lines around her eyes, but the same warm steadiness that had made her a fixture in our family for three decades.
"Rodion." She embraced me briefly, then pulled back to study my face. "You look tired."
"I'm fine."
"That's what your mother always said. Right before she collapsed from exhaustion." She patted my cheek with the casual authority of a woman who'd known me since birth. "You should sleep more."
"I'll sleep when I'm dead."
"That's what your father said, too. Look how that turned out." But she was smiling as she said it. "Now, where's this wife of yours? I've been curious ever since Yegor called."
I led her to the living room, where Keira was waiting on the couch. She stood when we entered, and I saw the nervousness in her posture—the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her hands clasped in front of her.
"Dr. Jackson, this is Keira. Keira, Dr. Jackson."
"Please, call me Helen." Dr. Jackson crossed the room and took Keira's hands in hers. "It's lovely to meet you. I understand congratulations are in order."
Keira glanced at me, then back at the doctor. "Thank you. I'm still getting used to the idea."
"Most mothers are, especially the first time. Don't worry—that's perfectly normal." She released Keira's hands and turned to survey the room. "Now, shall we find somewhere more private for the examination? I assume you have a guest room we can use?"
"I set one up down the hall," I said. "Everything you might need."
"Excellent. Lead the way."
I started toward the hallway, then realized Keira wasn't following. She was standing by the couch, her arms wrapped around herself, looking suddenly uncertain.
"Keira?"
"I just—" She stopped, shook her head. "Sorry. I'm fine."
She wasn't fine. I could see it in the set of her jaw, the brightness of her eyes. This was real for her now—not just a test, not just a word, but a doctor and an examination and all the weight that came with it.
I crossed back to her and took her hand. "I'll be right there with you. The whole time."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to." I squeezed her fingers. "Unless you'd rather I wait outside."
She was quiet for a moment, something shifting in her expression. "No. Stay. Please."
"Then let's go."
***
The guest room had been transformed into a makeshift examination space—clean sheets on the bed, a chair pulled to the side, towels and supplies laid out on the dresser. Dr. Jackson surveyed my work with an approving nod.
"Very thorough. You always were the organized one."
"I learned from the best."
"Flattery will get you everywhere." She set her bag on the dresser and began pulling out equipment. "Now, Keira, I'm going to ask you some questions about your medical history, and then we'll do a quick physical examination. Nothing invasive—just checking your vitals, palpating your abdomen, making sure everything is progressing normally. Is that all right?"
