Page 97 of A Good Book

“Mad? You said his name.”

“Exactly. Thank you. That’s what I said.”

“Good afternoon, Gabriella. How are you?” Dr. Murray came into the room.

“I’m good. This is my friend Matt.”

She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. The father?”

“Yup.”

I rolled my eyes. “No. He’s just a friend.”

She smiled at him. “Well, you’re a good friend.”

Matt ate up her compliment, sitting up straighter in the chair.

“Your weight is good. How has your morning sickness been?”

“Better,” I said.

“That’s great. Can you lie back for me?”

I nodded, lying on the table with one hand propped behind my head while my other hand lifted my shirt.

She folded the waist of my sweatpants to expose more of my lower abdomen. I glanced at Matt to see if he was looking at me, and he was.

“Might feel a little cold,” Dr. Murray said, squirting some lube onto my belly, then spreading it with the wand. The machine made a static noise as she moved it around, stopping occasionally to press a little harder. “There it is.” She smiled when my baby’s heartbeat pumped to a fast rhythm.

My grin doubled, and Matt’s did too.

“Is it okay?” I asked.

She nodded, removing the wand and wiping my belly with a wad of tissues. “It’s perfect.” She proceeded to measure my belly.

“I just look chubby, not pregnant. What are you really measuring?”

Dr. Murray gave me a reassuring smile. “I’m measuring your uterus. And it’s exactly where it should be for twelve weeks. You’ve made it to the end of your first trimester. Congratulations. Your baby is about the size of a lime.”

Matt grabbed my hand and squeezed it. Who would have imagined that he would be with me while I was pregnant with another man’s baby?

After my appointment, he took me to dinner and then back to my dorm.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way to my room.” I laughed.

“I do.” He opened the front door for me and followed me up the stairs and down the hallway.

After I unlocked my door, he took a step backward. “Call me if you need anything. Okay? And I’ll add your next appointment to my calendar.”

“I shook my head. It won’t be necessary. Ben will be here by then. But thank you so much.”

Matt tried to smile, but it fell short of a real one. Instead, it was obvious he felt bad for me. Poor me … thinking Ben was going to read my letters and immediately return to Ann Arbor to be with me and his baby. But I had hope, and that was enough.

* * *

Dear Ben,

The nausea has subsided. Hydrating works well along with a bottle of ginger ale mid-morning. I had a good birthday. Your card to me must have gotten lost in the mail, but thanks for thinking of me.

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