Chapter Thirteen
Emily
The world freezes as Maggie brings the phone to her ear. Sophie and I trade a look and an entire conversation silently passes between us in a second, in the way it only can between best friends. Do we run?
No, Maggie’s my friend, and she already knows… Or thinks she knows. What good would running do except make us look guilty? Then we’d have to explain to Hunter why the police and child services are looking for his son.
Our only option is to wait and hope.
There’s a wrinkle in Maggie’s brow that I’ve only seen once before, and that was when some drug company rep came snooping around, trying to push her to influence patients away from generics and toward their ultra-expensive branded drug. It was the only time I’ve heard her yell, and I had to step between her and the sales rep to stop her from sending him to the hospital.
I hear every ring from her phone, like the chiming of a funeral bell.
Then an answer. A raspy woman’s voice. “Dr. Sartani’s office. How may I help you?”
“Hey Rachel, this is Maggie over at Ironwood Falls Meds & More. Is Melissa in?”
“Of course, she’s just between patients. One moment while I transfer you.”
There’s a click, then a different woman’s voice comes over the line. “Maggie, how are you? It’s been too long. We need to get lunch sometime.”
“Melissa, I would love that. Sometime next week, maybe? But that isn’t why I called. I need to ask you for a favor.”
“Of course. Is everything OK? What do you need?”
“I need you to see a patient. A friend of a friend has an infant who’s sick and may need treatment, as well as a standard wellness check for an infant of…” Maggie pauses and takes the phone away from her face. “Sophie, how old is Charlie?”
“Four months.”
Maggie brings the phone back to her face. “Four months. He’s four months old. Appears to me to be a healthy weight for a boy his age, but that’s just a cursory examination. The mother doesn’t have any healthcare coverage, and she’s also not the most responsible of caretakers—”
“Fair point,” Sophie says quietly, nodding her head. “I accept that.”
“So I’d appreciate it so much if you could give her some guidance about medical care she’ll need to be aware of and all the upcoming healthcare milestones for a baby his age, and if you could send whatever bill there is to me. Do you have time to get her in?”
“I do, Maggie. Rachel told me that the patient I’m supposed to have in half an hour just canceled. Why don’t you send them over right now and I’ll get them taken care of?”
“Thanks so much, Mel. I owe you one for this. When we have lunch next time, it’s on me.”
“Looking forward to it.”
The call clicks, and Sophie and I trade an open-mouthed look.
“Why’d you do that, Maggie?” I say.
“You think I’m so heartless that I want to take a baby away from his mother? Come on, Emily, you’ve worked here long enough to know that the real tragedy is how expensive healthcare is. If I can do a little something to help someone out to get what they need, I’m going to. Especially if that someone is a little cutie like Charlie.”
* * * * *
The doctor’s office is relatively quiet for a Saturday night. We walk in with Charlie cradled in Sophie’s arms, his soft coos the only sound breaking the silence of the fluorescently lit reception area. The waiting room is empty, save for a few dated magazines scattered across the tables and a lone potted plant in the corner.
“Good evening,” says a warm voice from behind the counter. Rachel, I presume, is a middle-aged woman with kind eyes that sparkle even under the unkind fluorescent lights. “You must be the little one we’re seeing tonight.”
Sophie smiles brightly, clutching Charlie tighter. “Yes, this is Charlie. Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
Rachel waves her hand dismissively. “It’s no trouble at all. Dr. Sartani will be with you soon. Please have a seat and fill out these intake forms, please. Do the best you can. We know this is a special circumstance.”
I grab the stack of forms and Sophie and I go take our seats.
“Baby’s name?” I say.
“Charlie,” she says.
“Charlie what?”
“Just use mine. I’m his mother, after all,” she says.
“Age?”
“Four months. So you pick a date four months back that sounds like it’ll work.”
“Any allergies?”
“Hope not.”
“Father’s name?” I say. Even though this is all made up, there’s still a not-so-quiet voice inside me begging for her not to say Nick’s name. I don’t know if I could write it, then. It’d feel wrong.
Sophie takes a quick look at me, then back to Charlie, and says, “Just put ‘unknown.’”
“I can’t.”
“What about ‘orgy participant?’”
“Ew.”
“This is all made up, Em. If I want Charlie to be my orgy byproduct, that’s what he’s going to be. It’s more important that he get in to see the doctor, right?”
“Yeah, but it feels disrespectful to Charlie to put that down.”
Sophie pinches Charlie’s cheek and speaks in a singsong voice. “Aw, who’s the cute little unintended consequence of an orgy? Does it bother you that you might be a mix of the sperm of fifteen men? Or are you just happy to be the cutest little mixed-sperm baby in the whole wide world?”
“Fifteen men, now?” I say.
“Go big or go home,” Sophie says.
“No, I’m not writing ‘Byproduct of 15-man orgy.’”
She rolls her eyes. “How about you just put ‘Handsome Drifter?’”
I put it in the box. “Fine. Still can’t believe you’d have sex with a drifter without learning his name.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I huff.
She laughs. “You seem really on edge, Em. Are you that upset about my fictional baby daddy relationship with Hunter?” She puts her free hand on my shoulder. “You know this is all just a joke, right?”
“Yes. No. Maybe. I just… I think it’s attractive how much he cares for Charlie, how protective he is. When I was with Jay, he was protective, too, but it was in a controlling way. Like he had to protect me from myself because he didn’t believe in me, like he thought I was just going to go out and cheat on him or something. It’s not like that with Hunter. Plus, with Hunter, he’s…”
“He’s hot. Really hot. Like, I might actually let him impregnate me if he asked.”
“Ew…” I say. Though it’d be a lie if I didn’t say I’d asked myself the same question and the answer came back inconclusive. “But he is hot, and maybe I don’t want him to just see me as the babysitter.”
“Well Em, I have news for you: right now, you are the babysitter.”
“And not just for Charlie, either,” I say, smiling a little at the fake-indignant look that comes across Sophie’s face.
“Hey, I resemble that remark.”
Charlie coos and laughs. I continue filling out the forms with my best guesses while I mull over my situation.
“But I am a babysitter. That’s what I’m doing right now. And I like it. And I get to help Charlie,” I say, already talking myself down from being upset. “Maybe I should look on the bright side. Besides, don't most dads have fantasies about their kids’ babysitters?”
Maybe that means he’s thinking about me the same way I think about him.
“Dads do. But Hunter isn't a dad. He's a daddy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dads are all polo shirts and khaki shorts and golf on the weekend, if they're lucky. Hunter is... Oof. Oh my ,” she says, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. “Yes, he’s a daddy .”
“Soph?”
“Sorry, I got thinking about him and what he probably gets up to on his own and there were definite dewdrops down there.”
I cringe. “Gross.”
“I'll bet he's shot someone,” she says.
“Maybe. Probably.” After a moment’s thought, I add, “Definitely.”
“That's hot.”
“Can we get back on topic?”
“To your jealousy of my entirely fictional relationship with that murderous hunk of man meat on a motorcycle?”
“Yes.”
“So you are jealous?”
“Yes. Damn it.”
“Well, if he's the dangerous type — and we both know he is to the sploosh degree - then maybe you need to be a little more dangerous, too, in order to get his attention.”
“Maybe... But what can I do?”
She shrugs. “You’re my best friend and I love you, but I can’t help you with that right now. I think we need to stay focused on what our mission is, which is to make sure Charlie gets his doctor stuff taken care of. We can take about turning you into a rebel later.”
“True. We have a responsibility right now,” I say, feeling like the least rebellious person ever. “But later, maybe you and I can go visit Harper at work and we can brainstorm some ideas about what I can do? I really would like to spice things up a little.”
For nearly ten seconds, Sophie stares at me with a befuddled look on her face. “You want to schedule a meeting to discuss plans and ideas about how you can be more rebellious?”
I nod. “Yes. I’ll even buy you a drink for your help.”
“Sold.”
Rachel’s voice comes from behind her desk. “Have you two finished those papers? Dr. Sartani is free to see you now.”
Sophie, Charlie, and I go to the front of the room and I hand over the papers. Rachel scans them slowly, a steep furrow in her brow.
“It says here that the child’s father is an ‘anonymous and dangerous drifter.’ Is that correct?” She says.
“Yes. I never caught his name, just his eye and his potent sperm,” Sophie says. “But Emily didn’t fill out the form totally correct. She was supposed to put that he was hot, too.”
“A hot, anonymous, and dangerous homeless man impregnated you?” Rachel says, keyboard keys clacking.
“Yes. We connected, we shacked up for a weekend, and then Charlie happened nine months later.”
“Do you make it a habit to have anonymous sex with drifters?” Rachel says.
“Why? Do I look like I do?”
“Yes,” Rachel says, fingers still clicking away at the keyboard so quickly it sounds like she’s writing an entire novel. “You know, we can also do an STI test for you once the doctor’s done with Charlie. Are you interested?”
Sophie doesn’t hesitate. “Yes. It’s been a while and, as a responsible parent, I should get that checked out. Thank you, Rachel. I will gladly get myself checked out.”
“Great. I’ll make a note here, and we’ll do the testing after. Dr. Sartani will see you now in exam room C.”
We gather our things and follow the bright, sterile hallway toward exam room C. The walls are lined with colorful murals of animals and trees, a stark contrast to the confused and very adult thoughts about Hunter that are running through my head. Sophie sways Charlie gently in her arms as she hums a nursery rhyme under her breath.
Inside the room, Dr. Sartani waits with a warm smile. Her white coat is immaculately pressed, and her eyes radiate kindness. "Hello, Charlie! And how are you today?" she coos, making Charlie giggle in response. Her eyes then settle on me. “And you’re the mother, yes?”
A sharp, warm twinge hits my heart. An unexpected need. In a way, I wish I was, but I shake my head, then gesture to Sophie. “No. She’s the mother.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Usually I’m better at telling who the parental one is,” Dr. Sartani says.
“It’s OK,” Sophie says. “Between the two of us, Emily’s way more suited to be a mom. Which is why we’re here, I suppose.”
“Thank you for agreeing to see Charlie,” I say. “We really appreciate it.”
Dr. Sartani holds up a calming hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to see Charlie. Maggie and I try to help people when we can. It’s not much, but it feels good to make a difference to the best that we’re able. We both know healthcare can be so complicated and expensive that it keeps some people from even taking the basic steps to care for themselves.”
“Thank you, too,” Sophie says.
“Don’t mention it,” Dr. Sartani says. She looks over Charlie, performing a basic examination of his vitals — heartbeat, temperature, and then she places him on a small scale and weighs him. “Now, if I understand correctly what Maggie told me, Charlie had an allergic reaction the other night, and he also is getting over a cold, is that correct?”
Sophie nods vigorously. “Yes. He got the wrong meds for his cold, but then we gave him a good jab with one of my EpiPens and he’s as good as new… except for being sick.”
Dr. Sartani mutters something under her breath that sounds like ‘Dear god ’ and then she says, “And how long has he been sick?”
Sophie shrugs. “A few days. Maybe more, maybe less.”
Another ‘Dear god ’ under her breath, but louder this time. “I see. So, for length of sickness, we’ll just say ‘unknown.’ Does he have any other allergies?”
Sophie shrugs again. “I don’t know, except for whatever was in that medicine he got. To be honest, I was pretty surprised by his reaction, because I’ve had many medicines and related chemical substances and I’ve never had an allergic reaction. Negative reactions, yes, but those usually come the morning after.”
“Well, allergies have a tendency to be hereditary. Perhaps his father has allergies we should be aware of?”
“Maybe,” Sophie says nonchalantly. “Except his father is a drifter, and the only things I know he was allergic to are homes, a stable job, and vanilla sex, so…”
“Are you fucking serious right now?” Dr. Sartani says. “Do you know anything about the human life that you carried inside you for nine months? Has your baby had his immunizations?”
“Some, I assume.”
There’s a vein pulsing in Dr. Sartani’s forehead that tells me she’s going to need a doctor soon, too, if I don’t intervene.
“Dr. Sartani, we really appreciate your generosity and your patience in helping Charlie, despite the challenging and, uh, woefully inadequate way in which he has been raised so far.” I pause, and in the interim, Sophie shoots me a look that says, ‘ Rude ,’ and then I continue, “But, if you check him out tonight, maybe you can also do an antibody titer test to see which immunizations he needs? I’ll leave my phone number with your receptionist and I promise I will be the responsible party to bring him in and make sure he gets his shots.”
“You promise? It would make me feel better about this whole arrangement. Maggie speaks so highly of you, Emily.”
I blush. “She does?”
“Suck up,” Sophie whispers, too quiet for anyone but me to hear.
“She does. Of all the assistants she’s had, you’re the one she’s liked the most. So if you vouch to be the responsible party for Charlie here, I’ll continue to the examination.”
“I promise,” I say. My heart drops, even if it’s for all the right reasons. So much for being a reckless rebel.
Then I smile.
At least it means I’m required to see Hunter a few more times.
Maybe responsibility has its benefits.