Page 29 of On Thin Ice

“Oh, yes. I forgot.” Quickly, she rifled through her purse and handed me several ten-dollar bills. “That should be more than enough for your copay.”

“This isn’t your money, is it?”

“It is, but I need the card to go shopping. Don’t you worry. I’ll have Mr. Whittier reimburse me.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

When I walked in, I tried not to be intimidated. Back in Winchester, there was nothing like this, not a conglomeration of health professionals. My doctor was in his own building, all by himself. My dentist and eye doctor were in other buildings in other parts of town. There was a new surgery center that they’d built a couple of years ago, and, of course, the hospital had added a few buildings in the past five years, but this set up reminded me that I was a country mouse in the city.

Fortunately, there was a directory on the wall, and I sorted through listings for heart doctors and orthopedic surgeons to find the gynecology and obstetrics practice. It was on the second floor. Ordinarily, I would have taken the stairs but I decided on the elevator so I could give my aching feminine parts a break.

After checking in, I was given several sheets of paper to fill out. I found a seat in the crowded waiting room between two pregnant women—one was clearly closer to giving birth than the other, but I didn’t know how far either of them were along. I felt a pang of something, but I couldn’t tell what it was. Longing maybe? Did I want to be a mother?

Not at this moment…but now that my heart was swelling with love for the man I’d lost my virginity to, I couldn’t stop my mind from toying with the idea for just a second.

It made me realize that Sinclair had yet to text me back. Maybe he was busy. I wasn’t quite sure what he did at his job, but I got the feeling that he worked hard all day every day.

As I looked over the paperwork, I thought carefully before describing my supposed symptoms. Telling Edna a lie was one thing but I didn’t know if lying on paperwork would get me in trouble, even if I did intend to say the truth. So I decided from the start to be honest with my written answers, knowing that my confidentiality would be protected.

Besides, Edna probably wasn’t a person I needed to worry about in that regard anyway. My lies were protecting Sinclair and perhaps myself.

But what would I tell the doctor?

Before I could figure out what I would say, a nurse was calling me into the back. She took my weight and blood pressure and then asked me to describe my symptoms.

“Actually, I don’t think I have any kind of infection. My, um, friend was assuming. But I do need to see the doctor.”

The nurse’s brows pinched together but she was making an effort to be friendly. “Okay. What about?”

“I, um…I just became sexually active and I need to…uh, want to get on birth control.”

She nodded, having regained her composure. “You should also be sure to use condoms to protect yourself against STDs.”

“Oh, we did—but I just don’t want to take any chances.”

“Smart.”

It wasn’t long before I was having a conversation with the doctor, a woman who had the air of being so busy, she wasn’t sure that she’d make it till the end of the day. But she was polite enough and maybe even relieved that my case was fairly easy. We talked about what I wanted and decided on a simple pill that I’d take once a day.

She asked if I was pregnant and I told her no—and she said they’d call my prescription into the pharmacy of my choice. But I had no idea what pharmacy I should choose. I texted Edna and, after she texted back, I let the receptionist at the front desk know.

Then I let Edna know I was ready whenever she was.

After taking the elevator down to the first floor, I decided to wait just inside. When I thought I saw the black Honda making its way down the road, I walked out of the building. Soon, Edna pulled up in the exact same spot where she’d dropped me off. When I got in, she said, “You look like you’re walking a little better.”

“I do?” Even though I’d told the clinic the truth, I had to maintain the lie with Edna. “I have a urinary tract infection, so I need to pick up a prescription.”

“I thought you might when you asked about the pharmacy.” As she started driving through the parking lot toward the street, I felt as if all the blood was draining from my face. Had she picked it up already? But I was being paranoid. “Did they phone it in or did they give you a paper prescription?”

My muscles relaxed as I realized my secret was still safe. “They called it in.”

“Well, then here’s hoping it’ll be done by the time we get there.”

Because Edna hadn’t given me the name of a pharmacy located in a supermarket or a chain, I thought we might get lucky. It was the same in Winchester—if we went to the hometown mom-and-pop drug store, we knew we’d wait five minutes max for them to fill our prescription. If we went anywhere else, it could be hours. It made me wonder how those places got so much business—business they obviously couldn’t keep up with.

But this was Denver, so I realized it could be different here.

Soon we were driving down another busy street and I realized that I wouldn’t know how to get back to Sinclair’s mansion if I had to do it without a phone. I was already turned around and confused—and I felt like I was surrounded by a jungle of cars and concrete.

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