Page 107 of Resilience

“Okay,” Sam signed. “We’ll leave the doughnuts for later, and we’ll pick up fresh coffee when you can have it. The clinic is about a ten-minute drive from here, so we should leave around quarter-to. Agree?”

“Sounds good. I’m going to jump in the shower.”

He nodded, then caught her hand and squeezed it. When she met his eyes again, he didn’t sign a word. He simply stared into her. She understood what he wanted to tell her.

“I love you, too,” she signed. “I’m okay.”

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The clinic in Overland Park was even nicer than the photos in their materials had suggested. It was bright and cheerily decorated, and looked simply like a medical office. Athena was scheduled first thing in the morning, so there weren’t many patients in the large waiting area, but those who’d entered with her were just normal women.

Obviously they were. Athena had not one day ever in her life thought that abortion was shameful or sinful or anything but healthcare. She’d gone from not knowing what the word ‘abortion’ meant to being taught about reproductive rights by her mother. But the weird way people talked about it, especially media types and politicians, made it seem like this big, scary, shadowy thing, and she guessed some of that weirdness had seeped unbidden into her consciousness, because she was actually surprised, and relieved, to find herself in a totally normal medical office, surrounded by totally normal people—who might not have been at the clinic for an abortion at all. Planned Parenthood was a complete women’s clinic and provided all kinds of care and services, from routine wellness appointments to cancer screenings.

Not remotely normal was the little band of judgmental freaks outside, berating women as they approached the building. But Athena hadn’t been surprised about them; they were notorious. She couldn’t hear their shouts, of course, but she could see them shouting and waving signs with nasty words and lying images. Some put so much effort into their volume and anger they were red in the face, and the morning was just beginning.

Walking to the clinic with Sam’s strong arm around her and his patch on his back had diverted most of their bullshit away from her. Fucking cowards as well as lunatic assholes.

A few men and women wearing bright pink safety vests with the word ESCORT on the back were there, creating a safe cordon for the patients and their support person, if they had one, to get to the clinic.

Athena had Sam, but at the last minute, she’d decided to leave Blanche in the motel room. Obviously she’d informed the clinic that she was deaf, and that she had a service dog and was bringing her boyfriend, who could interpret for her. They’d told her that they would have a female interpreter available for her, in case she decided she wanted privacy, and that there was no problem at all with keeping Blanche with her for a medication abortion, but they would need to take some special steps to have a dog in the room for a surgical procedure. They couldn’t bar Blanche from staying with her virtually anywhere, but it would take some time to set up.

Athena had planned to keep Blanche with her no matter what. In addition to possibly needing her dog to help her, she was trying to be better about letting her do her job all the time. Also, she might need her buddy.

Though he hadn’t said it outright, she knew that Sam wanted to stay with her the whole time, too, and it looked like the clinic would allow that as well. She wasn’t sure about it. She wanted his support, but something about him being there while they removed the blob Hunter had left behind felt wrong. She hadn’t talked to him about it because she didn’t understand it herself.

Then this morning she’d decided not to bring Blanche. If she needed a procedure instead of some pills, she didn’t want to overburden the staff. That made keeping Sam with her feel a lot more necessary.

“It’s completely fucking bananas that those jerks are attacking women going to a medical clinic!” Athena signed after they got into the clinic and verified with the man at the door that she had an appointment.

“It was all I could do not to go for the moron in the tie-dye,” Sam replied. “I am so glad you couldn’t hear the shit out of that infected hemorrhoid’s mouth.”

That man had been the reddest face, shouting so forcefully he’d been spitting. “He looked like he was going to stroke out.”

“Shame he didn’t.”

They were at the large, curved front desk, which was decorated with black and orange crepe paper and cardboard ghosts, black cats, and pumpkins. The women sitting before them smiled at Athena and spoke, “Hello. Welcome to Planned Parenthood. May I have your name?”

Sam signed those words, then waited for Athena to answer in sign her reply. He interpreted for her, signing and speaking for himself as well. In that way, Athena was able to explain that she had not brought her dog, and that yes, she wanted Sam to stay with her, so she didn’t need their interpreter. The receptionist explained that the interpreter would remain available, as there were some instances in which the doctor would need to talk to Athena completely privately. And also if at any point Sam needed to step out or Athena needed him to do so.

The best thing? The receptionist talked to Athena, not Sam, the whole time, even though Sam was interpreting. Often, a hearing person who didn’t know ASL focused on the interpreter, not the Deaf person they were supposed to be communicating with, but this woman either had some experience communicating this way or was simply empathetic enough to know where her attention should be. Sam knew how to position himself so Athena could see his signs and still give attention to the speaker.

When the basics were handled, including the payment, the receptionist handed Athena a clipboard with a form on it, asked her to look it over and add any remaining information, and sent them off to the waiting area.

“How’re you doing?” Sam asked when they sat.

“I’m good. No worries.”

Occasionally, Athena almost wanted to ask him if he wanted her to be upset, since he asked annoyingly often if she was, but she understood the pettiness of that impulse. He didn’t want her to be upset; he wanted to be ready if she was.

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