Chapter 1

More than a year had passed since I sat in this waiting room. The same outdated magazines littered the tables. Shiny-faced toddlers and poetically beautiful mothers-to-be smiled up at me from the crinkled glossy covers. Hah! Where were the fathers of those beautiful babies? Probably out building junior a decent college fund and planning family outings, I thought cynically.

I wasn't the first woman to become a single mother. I wasn't going to be the last. Michael had made himself perfectly clear: He didn't want to be a father, never planned to be a father and would be glad to pay for an abortion. He said all this after accusing me of trapping him and his money, buying defective condoms and seducing him into unsafe sex. I laughed, an odd little habit of mine when I was angry. I laughed and told him not to worry. I never wanted to make a man resent being a father. My attorney will draw up the paperwork to terminate his rights. Have a nice life.

I grew up the only child of a vengeful woman and resentful man. We were the cliche dysfunctional family. During one of many arguments between my parents, I overheard my father yelling that she should have had that abortion or at least put 'her' up for adoption. Yes, I was the 'her' of whom they spoke.

Mom and Dad eventually divorced. I buried myself in my schoolwork. I only wanted to get lost in the woodwork of my unhappy home. I enjoyed being alone most of the time. If not for a few good friends I had in high school, my social life would have sucked.

After earning the scholarship to Vanderbilt, I gratefully left the arms of my family. I threw myself into the whole college life: musty dorm rooms, all-night cramming for exams, lousy food and even the occasional one night stand to release pent up frustrations. Oh yeah, and a heavy class load. I intended to make a good life for myself. After graduating from Vanderbilt with my masters in Psychology, I was on my way.

I met Michael while being courted by a counseling center based in a busy medical center in Dallas. The attraction was instant. Our relationship grew quickly from flirtatious smiles and risque' conversation to an earth-trembling bout of afternoon sex amid site proposals and treatment plans for current patients. Michael was very good. We were very good together. Our affair remained quiet during my first year at the clinic. When Michael transferred to another facility with a substantial promotion, our affair became common knowledge.

Michael and I started drifting apart not long after he transferred. I know he was experiencing a new stress in his life and I did all that I could to ease his tension. It was during one of my special tension-reducing sessions that the condom broke. Michael panicked. I assured him as best that I could that the time of the month was wrong anyway.

Michael took the news harder than I thought. In fact, his reaction completely shocked me. The bliss I felt in my newfound condition was doused with his hurtful suggestions. I thought Michael might have wanted a child. I was so wrong.

And now, here I was, studying a waiting room full of women in various stages of pregnancy, some with other children, some without. I was never going to be alone again. The thought made my stomach tighten and my cheeks tingle. "Oh shit."

I barely made it to the conveniently stationed restroom before losing my balanced breakfast. I stood. My knee hurt from banging it against the linoleum. The putrid shade of mustard yellow wallpaper on the walls made my stomach somersault again. I clutched at my belly.

A knock sounded on the restroom door as I was sipping a plastic cup of water. "Ma'am? Are you all right in there? Do you need the doctor?" Jeez, I thought, aren't they used to women vomiting in this place by now?

"No, thank you. I'm fine. Just a little morning sickness." I opened the door and met the concerned expression of an obstetrics nurse. Her expression turned from concern to relief and then surprise when she noticed the tiny cup clutched in my hand. I was still shaking from my recent bout of morning sickness. Morning sickness was the wrong name, at least in my experience so far. How about all-day-sickness?

"Oh. You didn't actually drink from that cup, did you?"

"Just a little water. Why?"

"Those cups are for urine specimens. All the moms-to-be have to fill one up every time they come in."

"I thought it was a little small." I mumbled, grimacing as my stomach lurched again. I lost the rest of what remained in my stomach.

I felt her cool hand on the back of my neck as I retched. Pregnancy was going to be a bitch, I could tell. She dabbed at my forehead with a damp paper towel as I tried to recover some semblance of dignity.

"Thank you, miss. Miss--" I was searching for a name plate on her bright and cheerful scrubs.

"Call me Nancy. We'll be seeing a lot of each other in the next few months. And don't worry. After the first trimester you will be feeling a lot better." Nancy patted my back and brushed the stray brown curls from my face. I was feeling a little better. "By the way, are you Ms. Rogers?"

"Yes. Becca Rogers." I dabbed at the tears under my eyes and met her friendly smile. My lips trembled.

"I need to see you in exam room 3. Dr. Trimble had an emergency C-section to perform this morning and he is still at the hospital. He probably won't be back in the office for another hour yet. You can either wait for him or see our new associate, Dr. Dixon."

"No offense, but I would like to get out of here as soon as possible. I'll take the new guy. If you can recommend him, of course." I smiled weakly as another wave of nausea passed over me.

"Dr. Dixon is new but he is excellent. I think you will like him. C'mon now. Let's take your blood pressure and your weight."

"Great. This day is going from bad to worse. I don't want to get weighed." I whined as I plodded over to the waiting scale.

"You need to get used to it, darling. We'll be monitoring your weight very closely. And your urine, and your blood pressure and your diet. You're either going to love us or hate us by the time this baby is born."

I had to smile through the tears and sickness. She was making me feel more comfortable. That was important. What woman can really feel comfortable preparing for a pelvic exam? All right, I admit, it wouldn't be the first time I allowed a vaguely unknown man slide his fingers into my vagina. Usually, though, it was after dinner and a nice bottle of wine. This atmosphere just wasn't conducive to relaxation.

"Okay, Miss Becca, one hundred and fifteen pounds. A little underweight for your height but don't worry. You will make up for it soon enough." She patted my back and led me to the examination room.

"Underweight? I can't think about food right now. Nothing sounds appetizing these days. I'll never feel like eating." I whined again.

Nancy only snickered as she handed me a paper gown and a folded sheet. Of course I knew what to do now. This wasn't my first time to see a gynecologist, and the first time to see an obstetrician shouldn't be much different. I stared at the things in dumbfound agony. Nancy patted me on the back and left the room so I could undress in privacy.

I caught my reflection in the mirror above the sink. Once hazel, my eyes now appeared dull. Shadows stained the fair skin beneath my eyes. My complexion even looked gray. Chestnut curls, once springy and lively, drooped against my back. I wasn't getting enough sleep although I felt tired all the time.

I slipped into the paper gown and noisily slid onto the examining table. All that crinkling paper and cold air was making the butterflies in my stomach leap around crazily. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to meditate myself into a calm, relaxed state.

The knock on the door startled me. "Yes?"

"It's Dr. Dixon. Are you decent?"

"As decent as a paper product will allow." came my reply.

I heard his laughter before he opened the door. It was nice, and a little familiar. When he stepped over the threshold into the exam room, my heart stopped and my stomach bubbled again. "Greg?"

"Rebecca?" Dr. Greg Dixon stared at me in surprise, a grin beginning to spread across his very handsome face.

I gawked at the grown version of my high school crush. Greg Dixon was always a nice looking kid with his laughing pale blue eyes and silly grin. Nothing could have prepared me for this vision standing in front of me with a stethoscope and a lab coat.

"Becca Rogers? What a pleasant surprise! All the way from Planterstown?"

"Greg. Oh my." I suddenly felt naked. I clutched the front of my paper gown and smiled at him, hoping he didn't notice the severe red blush that was creeping up my neck. "I had no idea you were--here. Or, a doctor even, much less a gynecologist. Wow. Um, yes, a surprise is what I would say. Definitely a surprise. A nice surprise, don't get me wrong. But... wow. I mean, all the way from Planterstown. No, I didn't come all the way from Planterstown. Well, I mean, I did but it was many years ago. I live here now. And... I'm... really surprised to see you." Ugh, inwardly I cringed at my nervous babbling.

"I haven't seen you since that five-year reunion at my parent's house. You were working on your masters at Vanderbilt, right?"

"Yeah, and you were on your way to Tulane." Wow, he remembered, I thought. I realized I had pulled the sheet up under my chin.

He laughed again, obviously amused at my predicament. Greg was one of the gang in high school. I considered myself a little homely and shy. He was a friendly guy, always joking, always happy and always with a cute girlfriend. I adored Greg. He won a special place in my heart for being so kind to me back then. "Hey, Becca, if this is uncomfortable for you I can get Dr. Trimble to see you when he gets back. That's perfectly understandable."

"Don't be silly. We're adults now. I'm sure you've seen plenty of--" If it were possible to blush any deeper, I was now.

Greg laughed again. "It's good to see you still have your sense of humor. Seriously, what do you want to do?"

"I'm okay with this. Really. In fact, I actually trust you." Coming from me, that was big.

"Thanks Becca. That means a lot to me." His expression changed a little from the jovial man to a concerned professional. He began flipping through my file. I was able to study him a little more while he was reading over my records. He had filled out. Nicely. Gone was the long, shaggy hair and adolescent complexion. In its place was short dark hair, a little wet and spikey, as if he had just stepped from the shower. His face was much more rugged and planed. His smile hadn't changed a bit, though. "What brings you here today?"

I took a deep breath and steadied my nerves. "Well, Doc, it's like this. I started feeling really sick a few weeks ago. Then I realized I had completely skipped a period. Stella at the pharmacy convinced me I needed to check out one of those EPT things and it turned blue and here I am." There.

Greg flipped through my file, marking a few things in his fast script. "Your weight is good. Blood pressure is fine. How far along do you think you are?"

"Maybe six weeks. I'm not sure."

"Your husband doesn't remember?"

I sat there in silence. I cursed myself for allowing a tear to cloud my eye. My throat tightened. I looked up and met his blue eyes. He understood in that instance.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I'm fine. Really. I'm a big girl with a real job and real money. I have my own house and my debts are minimal. I can do this by myself. I don't need the help of some pompous asshole." I swiped at the tear.

"I take it the father doesn't want anything to do with this?" Greg began to rub soothing circles on my back. It felt so comforting. Nancy came in with a real glass of water and heard the last thing Greg said.

"He doesn't want children. Ever. He is treating this as a momentary lapse in judgment. He will resume our relationship if I get rid of the offending organism." I said this very sarcastically, making it clear how I felt.

"I feel that I have a duty to inform you of your options. It's early enough."

"No. That is not an option for me. When I saw the little blue line, this baby became real to me. I want this baby. I will raise this baby to be a good human being, even if I have to do it without a father figure."

"That's good enough for me. We'll do all we can to bring this baby into the world as healthy as possible. If you ever need anything or have any concerns, give Nancy or I a call and we'll help you out. Not only with medical concerns, but also with resources for every aspect of the pregnancy and birth."

I was feeling better already. I had someone on my side for once, supporting my decision and offering some guidance. "Thanks Greg... I mean Dr. Dixon."