Page 99 of Holiday Hostage
Dr. Gabriel pulled out her phone and showed me the screen. “We have an app that I recommend, especially for new mothers. For your specific case, I’d recommend a more robust diet. That won’t come easily to you after the way you’ve been grieving and how your appetite has fallen off. But I need you to try. I also highly recommend a prenatal vitamin.”
She sent me a list of brands that she preferred and helped me set up the app on my phone.
“You can do this yourself, but I prefer to go through some of the questions with you so you are able to get the most out of the experience.” Her smile held the warmth of the sun. “And it will show you baby’s progress as the weeks pass.”
A picture popped onto the screen.
“This is where you’re at right now.” She handed me the phone, and I zoomed in on the image until it turned grainy. “Small but mighty.”
“Thank you.” Having that visual representation put a burst of energy into my body. “I didn’t realize she would have arms and legs already.”
“She?” Dr. Gabriel patted my knee. “Keep that energy going and you’ll be fine.”
“I will.” I slid from the table and hugged her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Half an hour later, I sat at my kitchen table with a bowl of fruit and the prenatal vitamins on the counter waiting for me.
I patted my stomach. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take good care of you.” I had to. How remained to be seen, but I sure as hell refused to let anything potentially harm my baby.
I scanned the apartment, my gaze landing on my computer. I’d been unable to blog about Alaska.
Even the things I’d seen and experienced before being kidnapped were too difficult and brought panic thrumming through my veins.
Dr. Gabriel had told me to avoid stress when I could, and that made writing the Alaska blog a giant hell no.
It took me a few days to come up with a plan. Dad wouldn’t like it.
I had to follow through.
My career depended on it, and so did my mental health.
Dad waited four whole days before he knocked on my door.
I’d called him after my doctor’s appointment and told him about the baby. He’d been thrilled.
I straightened my new shirt over my jeans and rushed to open the door. “Hi, Dad.”
“How’s the mother-to-be?” He hugged me with one arm, the other weighed down with a giant basket. “Brought you a few things.”
“Dad, you didn’t have to do that.” I took the basket from him and carried it to the kitchen.
The smell of oranges made my stomach growl, and I took one and peeled it. “I appreciate it, though. Just what I needed.”
“Did some research on healthy comfort foods.” He winked. “Tossed in a few bad options too. Like a gift card to your favorite restaurant.”
“I love you. You know that?” I popped an orange slice into my mouth and sighed. “Man, that’s good.”
Dad chuckled and perched on the edge of the stool tucked along the counter. “You’re looking better. I’m glad to see it.”
“Me too.” I picked at the orange, peeling a bit of the skin away and enjoying the way juice puddled across my nail.
“Uh-oh.” Dad sighed. “I know that look. What’s up?”
I considered lying, but that wasn’t fair to either of us. “I’ve booked another adventure. I can’t write about Alaska.” My hand seized around the orange, and I squeezed it into a mushy pulp before I regained control of myself. I shredded the remainder of the slices and ate them sliver by sliver.
A pained look lodged in his eyes. He rested his palms on the counter and leaned forward. “Are you sure?”
