Tag Fight For Me Page 2

  Two dark chestnut leather chairs sit in front of a moderately sized mahogany desk. The walls are a light grey, awards, certificates, and diplomas cover the walls. A large window with sliding blinds looks down onto the roof of the attached building. Presley takes a seat while I admire the rooftop air conditioning units before making my way around the room. “Guess this guy knows what he’s doing.”

  “Could be a female,” she says sounding lost in a distant world.

  I inch closer to one certificate in a decorated frame, printed in some type of script. “Dr. Curtis Ward.” The doorknob turns and I make my way over to the empty chair next to Presley as a young doctor enters the room. He barely looks older than us, and I’m immediately skeptical. In no way does he look old enough to handle Presley’s condition.

  “Mr. and Mrs. West, I’m guessing?”

  Presley nods, the corners of her lips turn up, but it’s evident she is having the same questioning thoughts I am.

  Dr. Ward takes a seat behind his desk, keeping his head down, flipping papers back and forth before finally looking at us. “I’m a little confused why I’m here.”

  I begin to speak, but Presley takes control of the room. “I need to know if I’m pregnant.”

  He sighs as he leans back in his chair. “The nurses usually give those results, but you requested a doctor. I was just about through with my shift and was headed out the door to a poker game when your file landed in my hands, so why don’t you tell me what’s going on and why it was so important for you to come in tonight instead of waiting to see your doctor tomorrow.” His chair creaks under his weight. A confusing grin tugs at the corners of his lips, making him hard to read.

  Who the hell does he think he is? There’s no way this cocky piece of shit is old enough to be a doctor. I look around for a hidden camera, expecting the door to swing open and announcing this has all been a joke and the real doctor to make his appearance.

  Presley’s eyes turn glassy, making whoever is sitting in front of us uncomfortable.

  He looks over her report again. “Your HCG levels are slightly elevated, but nowhere near what we would consider or even classify as pregnant.”

  His tone is curt and harsh, similar to the way Presley sounded the day she walked back into my life and onto the field, introducing herself to me as Donovan. “Doctor, I know this sounds crazy, but my nephew has been adamant about me being pregnant. He said an angel told him that this was his special baby, and I’m inclined to believe him.”

  The man sitting across from us laughs. “And did the angel wear white and have wings?” He puts angel in air quotes, and I watch as my Presley instantaneously disappears.

  “No.” Her tone turns harsh to match the doctor’s.

  A ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude envelopes her as I sit back to watch Donovan take control.

  “The figure he described is my grandmother. She passed two years ago. He claimed it was her birthday gift to me since they don’t have presents in heaven or wherever you want to believe we pass on to. Her birthday is on Wednesday.”

  “So why didn’t you wait till your doctor was here tomorrow?” Dr. Ward seems to have his interest peaked.

  “Because obviously whatever we’ve been doing isn’t working! We have been trying for over two years and have had six miscarriages. I’m not even a candidate for IVF since I’ve never carried past eight weeks. If by chance, this little three-year-old boy is right, then I want someone else handling my pregnancy. Your cocky ass was the one on duty tonight!”

  The doctor once again sits back smugly in his chair, shifting his eyes back and forth between the two of us before pulling up Presley’s medical records on the hospital’s computer. He concentrates on them for a couple minutes and then looks in my direction. “I’m sorry, I know this is entirely unprofessional, but are you the Rangers’ pitcher, Robert West?”

  I chuckle as Presley throws her hands in the air and slams back into her seat.

  “He is, and if you want an autograph, you’ll help me keep this baby.”

  I chuckle and gesture to Pres, “She’s the boss.”

  Dr. Ward shrugs. “Right. Well, your case is definitely unique, so I will take you on as a patient; I like a challenge.”

  “Really?” Like an excited child, there she was. My Presley was back, and I offer her a smile before squeezing her hand.

  “But you will do exactly as I say. I’m not gonna beat around the bush like your other doctor. Follow my instructions and hopefully in nine months you’ll deliver a healthy baby boy or girl.”

  Presley releases the breath she’d been holding and thanks the man who is now our doctor. Her doctor? I’m not exactly sure if I can claim him as mine since this is Presley’s body, but he feels like ours.

  “First thing, when do you think you conceived?”

  Without hesitation she answers, “Three days ago.”

  Dr. Ward looks up at me and I just shrug.

  “Alright.” The back of his thumb brushes against his bottom lip before he types something into the computer. “Mrs. West, your pregnancy hormone is almost non-existent, but I want to see if we can spot something on the ultrasound. This won't be what most women experience, but I’m not looking for an amniotic sac; I’m looking for something the size of a dust particle. If, and that’s a big if at this point, if I find something, I want to see you in for an ultrasound every two days to see how things are progressing. I want to be able to catch any complications, hopefully before they start.

  “You will also be on bed rest until I feel the pregnancy is viable enough. I will give you prescription prenatal vitamins that you will need to start immediately, and you will have a strict diet to follow. I will send a nutritionist to your home tomorrow.”

  Presley nods her head, taking my hand in hers she tightly squeezes me until the blood has escaped my five fingered extremity. As she looks at me I can't help but notice the beautiful glimmer of hope that radiates from her, the one she gets after seeing a positive test result and I hope like hell that this doctor knows what he’s doing.

  We follow Dr. Ward back to the ultrasound lab. He steps out of the room, giving Presley a chance to change into a hospital gown before coming back in. “Are you two ready for this?”

  This. This was the first hopeful ultrasound Presley was getting to experience. Her hand reaches out to me as I grasp my hands around hers. “Yes.” I answer for both of us as I watch her throat move with every swallow she takes to keep her tears at bay.

  “Don’t be alarmed if it takes a while. I’m looking for something the size of a dust particle. There will be no heartbeat at this point.”

  Presley nods right before he inserts a long wand looking instrument into her. She winces and shifts her body on the table and under his hand. “Sorry about that. I know it doesn’t feel as good as he does.” He waggles his eyebrows and chuckles a little.

  Presley blushes and looks up at me before closing her eyes against the uncomfortableness. Minutes tick by; she squeezes my hand each time Dr. Ward pushes against her or moves in a way that bothers her. I’m torn between watching the screen and watching her.

  Soon he presses buttons on the ultrasound machine, zooming in on what appears to be nothingness. “There it is.”

  Presley’s eyes immediately fly open as we lock our eyes onto what seems to be a black void with the tiniest fleck in a sea of midnight.

  “We won't see implantation for a couple more days, but there’s your baby.”

  Presley and I both break down. We had never known life like this before. There it was, our baby, our speck of dust, alive.

  As if Dr. Ward understood the gift he’d given us, he excused himself from the room. “I’ll print this out for you two and give you a minute. I’m going to error on the side of caution, no sex until you’re off bed rest.”

  His eyes land on me and I know he’s waiting for push back, but he won't find it. “It won’t be a problem.”

  The door closes. Presley and I can't take our eyes off th
e screen. Our baby. I tenderly kiss her forehead, my tears fall onto her cheeks, mixing with hers. “I love you Momma.”

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  Our words are said through broken tears of joy and worry. Now we wait.

  Chapter Two

  Most women count their pregnancy by weeks.

  Not Robert and me. We count by hours and days.

  We met with our nutritionist yesterday, like Dr. Ward ordered. She came to the house and went over everything with us and the private chef we have hired. List upon list, page upon page. We have a binder of recommended meals and snacks, and an exhausting list of items I cannot eat. After leaving the hospital two nights ago, we agreed to spare no expense on this pregnancy. The actual reality is that we may only get one shot at a pregnancy. Jax was so sure of himself when he told me, and I’m wishfully clinging to the idea that if this is in fact a gift from Gram, then she will protect our little one for the next nine months.

  Today is our first scheduled ultrasound with Dr. Ward. Before we left the hospital, he assured us he would personally handle all of our appointments from here on out and gave us his personal cell number.

  The waiting room is a welcomed change to that of the ER. White walls have been replaced with muted creams; teal pleather chairs have been switched to executive styled black leather ones. Magazines are placed on a glass coffee table with faux roses and instrumental music comes from a hidden radio somewhere in the lobby. A glass partition separates us from the rest of his staff. Our other doctor’s office was nothing like this; it was full and finding a seat that didn’t have cheerios crushed into it was a rare occasion. Our appointment was at ten in the morning and the waiting room was empty.

  Robert’s leg anxiously bounces with anticipation. I rest my hand against his knee, trying to calm him while giving him my best reassuring smile. It seems to work for just a moment before the nurse calls us back into an exam room. She shows me where the hospital gowns are kept and where to store my clothes. Robert takes a seat in one of the corner chairs, not waiting for permission from her. He knows his place is with me. I thank her and quickly change before taking a seat on the ultrasound chair. Goosebumps cover my body and Robert is quick to take notice. “Are you cold?”

  “A little. And nervous.” With a gentle hand he pulls me onto his lap, heat radiates off of him in waves and a steady warmth consumes me. I am beyond thankful for the fact we don’t have to worry about Robert traveling right now. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do this without him. “How are you feeling?” I ask him hesitantly, as my head rests upon his shoulders.

  “The same.” There’s an eeriness about his voice. “Presley, I want this so bad. I want to believe that this time is different—”

  I raise my head and look him in the eye. “But you don’t want to get your hopes up either.”

  His eyes are somber and distressed. “Exactly.”

  Our solitude is disturbed by two quickened single knuckle knocks before Dr. Ward enters the room. “Should we check on our speck of dust today?” His tone is almost bubbly, a stark contradiction to the man we meet less than forty-eight hours ago. Robert and I offer a polite smile as I move back down to the inclined table by the ultrasound machine. “All I’m looking for today is to see if the embryo has implanted yet. It usually happens around this time for most women. As long as I like how things are progressing, most of your appointments will be short in nature. No reason to keep you longer than I have to.”

  I grab Robert’s hand to help ease the pressure I’m feeling, our eyes trained on the monitor, but clueless to what we’re looking for. Minutes go by, my lower stomach has been pushed and shoved in different varying directions and I’m feeling nauseous with each passing second.

  A fleeting look of worry crosses Dr. Ward’s face while a stinging lump in my throat threatens to choke the life from me. I squeeze Robert’s hand and look hopeful at him, but I can see the uncertainty on his face as well. Surly this can't be the end.

  “There’s no reason to be alarmed, I just don’t see anything right now. If your speck of dust has in fact implanted, due to size alone, it may be a couple of days before we see anything again. I want to run another blood test to check your HCG levels. But in the meantime, continue doing everything I’ve told you and we’ll check again in two days. No reason to wait on your results, the office will call if we need to change something.”

  I nod. My words are choked back as I bite hard on my inner cheek trying to keep the tears away.

  Robert once again squeezes my hand and offers a quiet, “Thank you.” before Dr. Ward leaves the exam room.

  My chest heaves the second the door clicks into place and I’m immediately scooped into Robert’s protective comforting arms. My knees pulled up to my chest as I curl into myself.

  “Presley, he said there’s nothing to worry about.” His voice is velvet against my ear, lips gentle against my forehead.

  “I hate this.” I growl out in sobbed frustration. “I used to be this confident, powerful woman who could bring grown men to their knees and in the last three days I have never felt more unsure or nervous in all my life. I doubt everything.”

  “Shhh,” as his hands run the length of my back, trying to soothe me. “You have every right to feel like that right now. Come on. Let’s go home.”

  * * *

  Presley is curled up on the couch while I warm up the chicken soup that was made yesterday. Everything farm fresh and organic, even the chicken was fresh, a few feather remnants float across the backyard while blood stains an up-right log.

  I glance over to her from the kitchen, shocked at how brittle she appears; as if the tiniest movement, the wrong piece of food, or anything she does will make everything vanish. We were supposed to be enjoying this moment, not waiting for the other shoe to drop. Kringle lays next to her as a source of comfort. She seems to be focused on the newest episode of Fixer Upper, so I step into our bedroom to make a phone call. There is only one person I can think of talking to right now.

  “I was wondering when you were gonna call, son.”

  “Hey Gramps.” I let out a sigh, raking my fingers against the grain of my hair in an attempt to pull the tension from me.

  “I hear Presley’s pregnant.”

  That’s impossible for him to know. We have told no one, not even Liv and Trey and they were there when she looked at the pregnancy test. “Oh, um—”

  “Don’t worry, I won't tell your mothers.”

  “How? How do you—”

  “Cora told me.” I can hear the smile in his booming voice. I can picture him standing there, hands hooked on his hips as if the answer should have been obvious.

  Could it really be Gram? “So it’s true then.”

  “Of course it is, boy. Hundred percent. She says you’re gonna have a healthy baby girl.”

  I can feel the lump in my throat swell as I cover my mouth in disbelief.

  “Gramps, I think you should come down for a visit. I don’t know what to do, sir.”

  “You just worry about being her strength right now. Trust in what is outside of your control and understanding. You two have been given a miracle and she won't be your only one.”

  “Wait. You’re saying there’s gonna be more?”

  A deep gravely chuckle churns over the line, “If Cora has anything to do with it, you’ll have a whole baseball team.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. Presley and I prayed and begged for one, but to know there will be more, it doesn’t seem possible.

  “Now go be her strength. Stay positive. Help her enjoy this time. I don’t know if you know my peanut all that well, but she has a hard time letting go of control.”

  I chuckle, that’s Presley to a T.

  “I’ll let you guys be the ones that break the news to your mommas.”

  I thank him for the phone call but before we say goodbye, I ask him one last question. “Hey Gramps? How often do you talk to Gram?”

  “I never stopped. She’s wit
h me always.”

  I smile even though I knew he couldn’t see it. “Talk to you soon.”

  Jackson was right. And Gramps was right. I needed to make this time special for Presley. I peak out of the bedroom and see her peacefully asleep on the couch. I make one more phone call to Liv, I know I owe her an explanation for everything, but I also need her help with Pres.

  “What the hell, Robert. You guys leave on Sunday and we don’t hear anything. What’s going on?”

  “Liv, I’m sorry, I can’t get into details right now, but Jax is right. I just got off the phone with Gramps and he already knew.”

  “Knew? Knew what? Wait! Oh, my—is she?”

  “Yea Liv. She is.” I can't stop the Cheshire grin. “And according to Gramps, there’s more on the way. I don’t know if I’m crazy for believing in ghosts, but I feel like this is finally our time, but I need your help with Presley. She’s absolutely miserable and consumed with fear.”

  “Say no more. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “She’s on bed rest for the next couple of weeks, Liv.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got you.”

  “Thanks Liv. I owe you one.”

  “You guys can watch the twins while we sleep. It will get you ready for when your little peanut gets here.”

  I chuckle at the thought; I can't wait for a lack of sleep. “It’s a girl, Liv,” I say quietly. I have to share my excitement with someone, and I don’t want to get Presley’s hopes up just yet. I don’t know how much more disappointment she can bear should things not work out.

  “What?” She yells through the line. “We’re gonna have little girls together! But how do you know so early?”

  “Grams told Gramps and I’m going to believe it.”

  “Does Presley know any of this?” her voice a mixture of excitement and nervousness.