Dr. Levinstein grabs his stethoscope from his leather bag and kneels next to where I’m sitting.
“Lean back and lift your shirt, please.”
I pull up the hem of my black-and blue-checkered shirt and expose my little pot belly.
Levinstein moves the scope around my stomach several different places, listening. “Have you felt any discomfort?”
“Does horrific morning sickness count?”
“Are you still having it?” He slides his brown eyes up to mine.
“No.”
“Do you feel the baby moving at all?”
He pulls the earplugs out and hangs the stethoscope around his neck.
“Flutters sometimes.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” Baz frowns.
“It just started happening.”
“It should around the sixth month. I’m going to send over an ultrasound machine tomorrow, and we’ll have a proper look. I’m also going to set you up with an OB. She’ll do all your examinations here, if you prefer.”
I look at Baz, and he nods gravely. “I think that will be best.”
Me too.
“Fine then.” Dr. Levinstein stands. “I’ll call ahead before I come and set up an appointment with Dr. Miranda. She’s the best in the area and extremely discreet.”
“Thanks.” Baz’s eyes follow Levinstein’s movements, but he doesn’t move from the couch.
“Anything for the family, Benjamin. You know that.” The doctor cracks a small smile, his thin lips look like a squiggly line. He then picks up his bag to leave.
“Oh!” My abrupt outburst stops him before he disappears. “Baz, your meds? Can he get them?”
Levinstein spins on his heel. “You don’t have your medication?” He seems to know exactly what I’m talking about.
“We sort of left where we were staying in a hurry,” I allude to Baz’s gunshot wound.
“Understood. I’ll take care of it. Expect a delivery tomorrow.”
With that he leaves.
I look at Baz questioningly.
“Dr. Levinstein has been treating me my whole life,” he explains. “He knows every written word of my medical history. Hell, he penned most of them. If it wasn’t for him . . .” Baz trails off, staring at the vacant doorway. “I don’t know what would have happened to me.”
“He seems very attuned.” I reposition myself closer to Baz. He puts his arm around me as I snuggle up next to him.
“He’s sharper than a tack.” He grimaces as he shifts.
“Is this uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s just both my shoulders hurt now.” He pouts like a grown child.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be such a cupcake.”
