The Nurse's Newborn Gift. Wendy S. Marcus

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      “No need.” Krissy stood. “I’ll do it.”

      “You sure you feel up to it?” Kira studied her. “When I say feel up to it, I mean mentally and emotionally. He had you pretty upset the other day.”

      “If Spencer is going to be a part of my baby’s life, I need to learn how to deal with him.” She walked toward the door. “Best I do it in a medical setting where there’s resuscitative equipment available.”

      After drawing five tubes of blood from a middle-aged female and packaging them to be picked up for processing, Krissy freshened the paper liner on the exam table in room nine then returned to the waiting room. “Alfonso Gianelli,” she called out.

      Alfonso smiled and stood. Spencer stood, too. When the men approached, Krissy said to Alfonso, “Are you okay with him going in with you?”

      Alfonso looked at Spencer who said something in Italian.

      Alfonso turned back to Krissy and said, “Yes.”

      Krissy looked up at Spencer. “How do I know what he’s saying ‘yes’ to?”

      “I’m here to translate,” Spencer said. “Word for word.” He walked past her. “Where do you want us?”

      Krissy walked them back to the scale and took Alfonso’s height and weight. Then, with his back to the eye chart—because Krissy didn’t trust him not to cheat—Spencer helped translate Alfonso’s letters for the eye exam. After that Krissy walked them to the exam room where she completed a hearing exam and took Alfonso’s temperature, pulse, respirations, and blood pressure. Spencer watched every move she made.

      After going through the physical exam health screening questions—with Spencer’s help—and entering all of the information into her laptop, Krissy took an exam gown from the drawer and handed it to Alfonso. “Please tell him to take everything off. The gown opens in the back.”

      No sooner had she escaped to the hallway, Spencer caught up with her. “Hey,” he said, gently taking her by the arm. “Is there someplace we can talk in private?”

      “I’m working.” Krissy tried to pull away.

      He released her. “I know. So am I. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

      Fine. Krissy switched the plastic markers to the right of the door to red, indicating the patient was ready to be seen by the doctor. Then she led Spencer into the staff lunchroom. Once inside she closed the door, picked up the receiver on the wall-mounted phone, and called the front desk. “I’m taking a break in the lunchroom if anyone needs me.”

      After hanging up, she crossed her arms over her large belly and turned to look at Spencer. “You have two minutes.” She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Go.”

      He reached into the front pocket of his slacks and took out a folded up sheet of paper. “I know you’re supposed to be resting. Which I hope you’re doing?”

      Since he looked more concerned than confrontational, she told him, “I am. And I’m taking it easy at work, too. Believe me, Kira makes sure of it.”

      “Good. Figuring you might be too tired to do it yourself, I did some research,” he held up the paper. “From what I’ve read, a woman in her third trimester of pregnancy, which you’re in, should take Lamaze classes to learn how to breathe and cope with contractions, even if she’s thinking of getting an epidural.”

      Wow. Of all the words that could have come out of Spencer Penn’s mouth at that moment, Krissy never would have expected to hear ‘Lamaze classes’ and ‘epidural’ tossed into a conversation.

      When she didn’t respond, because, wow, she was still trying to process what’d just happened, Spencer kept right on talking. “This is a list of local hospitals and their birthing classes, everything from baby care to breastfeeding.”

      Krissy fought back a smile. Did Spencer Penn really just say the word breastfeeding? This entire encounter could only be described as bizarre.

      Either he didn’t pick up on her amusement or he didn’t care. “Your doctor’s office probably gives Lamaze classes, most do. You should find out about that when you go for your first appointment there. Is Kira going to be your coach?”

      “My coach?”

      “Come on, Krissy. You’re killing me.”

      He rubbed his hand over his head and Krissy wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked. Jeez. Where the heck had that come from? She shook her head to clear her wayward thoughts and get back on topic.

      “Haven’t you thought about who’s going to be in the delivery room with you?”

      No, she hadn’t. In fact, she purposely worked very hard to occupy her mind so she didn’t have to think about it, which was getting tougher and tougher as her delivery date approached. Of course Kira would do it if she asked, but her sister already had so many responsibilities. Too many responsibilities. Yet the thought of going through it alone...she looked away from him through the window to the parking lot outside so he couldn’t see her fear. “Boy, you’re taking this godfather stuff pretty seriously. I’d kind of figured your responsibilities wouldn’t start until after the baby is born. So you can relax.” And back off. Unless...she swung back around. “Unless you don’t trust me to do what’s best for my baby.” That had to be it. “Unless you don’t think I’m capable of managing—”

      “Whoa.” He held up both hands. “Calm down. I’m not here to upset you, I’m trying to help.”

      “Well I don’t need your help. And I don’t need Kira’s help. I’m going to do this on my own. I can do it on my own. I will do it on my own.” She repeated her mantra of late.

      “But you don’t have to do it on your own, Krissy. Jarrod wouldn’t want you to go through all of this on your own.”

      Jarrod. God how she missed him, how she wished he was here. Tears pricked her eyes.

      “Let me help you.”

      “Why would you want to help me?” she snapped. “You blame me for Jarrod’s death.” Now she blamed herself, too. “You hate me.”

      “I don’t hate you.”

      Even though he towered over her, Krissy stared him down. “Liar.”

      “I don’t. I know you’re not responsible for Jarrod’s death. He was an adult. He made his own decisions, however misguided they may have been. I’m sorry for what I said and how I acted when you came to my apartment. I was mean. You didn’t deserve it. Seems I had some unresolved issues where Jarrod’s death was concerned. But I’m over them now.” He motioned to a chair. “Please, sit down. You look ready to collapse.”

      Now that he mentioned it, she kind of felt ready to collapse, too. Probably because this was the most energy she’d exerted since she’d left the hospital three days ago. So she sat.

      Spencer sat, too.

      “Glad I was available to help you resolve your issues,” Krissy said, even if, as a result, she now felt even more weighted down by guilt. “Happy СКАЧАТЬ