Chapter 10
B y the time Edna and I left for the doctor, I had all but finished my application to DU.
I had the matter of making the payment, though—for both the application and to have my transcripts from WCC sent to DU.
I’d have to wait until Sinclair gave me the card he’d promised.
Still, I was quite satisfied with my progress—and I wanted to share it with someone.
I’d tell my father later this evening over the phone, but there was someone else who might be proud of me.
I sent Sinclair a quick text message: Application to DU all done except for $$.
When I entered the kitchen, I tried my best to walk as normally as I could.
Although the pain was gradually lessening—especially when I wasn’t moving—I still had a way to go.
Of course, Edna noticed.
“Oh, you poor dear. I’m so glad the doctor was able to see you today.”
“Thanks for taking me.”
“Think nothing of it. Would it help if I held you on one side while we make our way to the car?”
And have her figure out it wasn’t what I’d told her it was?
“No, I’ll be okay. Thanks.” With that, I tried even harder to walk like I ordinarily would…
just more slowly.
We didn’t go down the west hall to get to the garage as I’d expected; instead, I followed Edna down the main corridor to the east rear hall, past Sinclair’s office.
I’d never walked down this side except to enter the office, so I was on full alert.
The room past his office looked like a large conference room—rather out of place here.
It would have seemed more natural in an office building, but knowing that Sinclair liked to work at home sometimes, it made sense.
There were several more rooms we passed, all with closed doors.
Edna must have sensed my curiosity.
“All these rooms back here used to be reserved for staff. One is a break room, and there is also a security room and a room where all the decorations are stored, but the rest are living quarters.”
“Did you ever live here?”
“When Mr. Whittier was a baby, I and my first husband did. If his mother had been alive, we wouldn’t have done it—but the little one needed me and his father was gone far too much. He wouldn’t have had a clue how to raise a helpless infant.”
I almost said something along the lines that he was lucky to have help—but that wasn’t true.
Luck had nothing to do with it.
Money was why he was able to buy all the assistance he could ever need.
What if Sinclair had been born to a poor family—or one of more modest means?
Would his father have been forced to figure out how to be a good parent on his own?
Would his mother have killed herself?
Even if she were suffering from clinical depression, I started to think, based on her own words, that feeling loved and desired by her husband might have helped.
Maybe she would have left him and found a way to be happy and survive on her own.
Then Sinclair might not have even been here.
“Why don’t Greg and his wife live in this hall?”
“You’d have to ask Mr. Whittier—but I suspect it’s because Greg asked. And this place is so big with so many unused rooms, I understand why he wouldn’t object. There’s a kitchenette up there anyway, so why not?”
Soon, we walked through a door at the end of the hall—and into the garage I’d never seen.
The cars over here appeared to be more like the kind I’d feel comfortable driving.
After all, my little car back at home had been purchased used, already with a few scratches and minor dents.
If something happened to it superficially, I wouldn’t have cared.
Still, these cars were slick and shiny, almost like new, even though their price tags were closer to what I could afford.
Edna took a black car in the middle of the garage, and when I saw the H logo on the front, I remembered her saying something about driving a Honda.
She’d said it was her favorite and it was practically brand new.
“While you’re at Dr. Anderson’s, I’m going to do some shopping. Just text me when you’re done and I’ll come back. Her office is just a few blocks away from the supermarket I like to shop at, so it shouldn’t take long.”
Although I hadn’t left the mansion much, aside from the evening walks I’d been taking with Sinclair regularly, I’d become familiar with the neighborhood.
There were several blocks of some of the nicest homes that reeked of wealth, each seeming to want to outdo the homes they were flanked by.
Each yard was lush and green and it was rare to actually see anyone in it.
The yards were for show, not for enjoyment.
But after traveling those several blocks, we’d move into homes that were less ostentatious, more middle class and then suddenly, without warning, we would be thrust into the city, and this time was no different—from quiet streets to bustle in less than five minutes.
Without all the trees blocking the view, the skyscrapers not far off to the north were easy to spot.
Soon, we were on a busy street, heading the other direction.
It wasn’t long before we arrived in what looked to be some sort of office park with tall rust-colored brick buildings.
Pulling over to the curb, Edna said, “The clinic is in here. Do you need me to go with you?”
“No…but how will I pay?”
“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.
Edna pulled into another parking lot, something that appeared to be an oddity on this particular street.
There were a lot of cars crammed along the road parallel parked with not a space between them—but there was a sign inside the parking lot, warning drivers that these spaces were for customers only.
When Edna parked, she got her wallet out and handed me a card.
“Run it as credit,” she said.
“I’ll wait here. But please send me a message to let me know if it’s going to take a while. I don’t want the food in the back getting too warm.”
Relief coursed through my veins that she wouldn’t be right next to me to see the actual medicine I’d be picking up.
As I put the card in my purse, I remembered that I still had some of her cash, so I handed it back to her, and then I walked as quickly as I could manage to the doors of the building.
As I walked inside and made my way to the counter, it dawned on me again…
I was now a full-fledged woman.
Although I still felt like a girl inside, I’d just passed a milestone.
And I was proud to be Sinclair’s woman…
but I had no idea of knowing if he thought of me the same way.