Chapter Seven
Brooklyn
He practically drags me out of the library. I give Rose another quick thank you and a goodbye on my way out. It’s still pouring, so we both make a run for the truck. He cranks up the heat once we’re inside.
“Sorry, I forgot my umbrella,” he mumbles.
“Oh, did you forget to check the weather?” I say with a sweet smile.
He just holds up his middle finger with one hand while clutching the steering wheel with his other hand.
Paul’s office is close. If it weren’t pouring, we could have walked. Once we’re parked, I hop out and jump over puddle after puddle as I run inside. It’s no use though. By the time I make it inside, I’m soaking.
I look down. My dress is plastered to my body and nearly transparent. I’m not wearing a bra. I might as well not be wearing a top, and I’m freezing so my nipples are on high alert.
Good grief.
Just as Kip’s eyes fall over my body, I cross my arms over my chest. Not quickly enough though by the look on his face.
“Oh, you two are drenched,” the receptionist says, standing up.
“Hate to ask this, Sylvia,” Kip says. “Can I get another shirt?”
“Two in one day. That must be a record.”
She comes back with a shirt for him and a pair of scrubs for me.
“How kind, but I don’t want to take your things,” I say.
“Kip will return them. No worries,” she answers.
I take the scrubs from her. “Thank you.”
She points down the hall. “Bathroom’s right through there.”
I nod and disappear into the bathroom. Once inside with the door shut and locked, I peel the dress off and wring it out in the sink. I think a gallon of water came out. I pull on the scrubs and wring out my hair before I leave.
Kip’s waiting with the new shirt on. Too bad. I liked the wet t-shirt look on him.
“Come this way, darling,” Sylvia calls.
Kip and I follow her back to an examination room. There’s no reason for Kip to be in here with me, but I don’t ask him to leave. It’s comforting having someone around that I know. Or sort of know. Even if it’s someone who’s looking at me like he’s trying to murder me with his eyeballs.
“You must be Ginger,” Paul says, walking in the room and extending his hand.
I shake it. “And you must be Paul.”
“That’s me. Sorry I wasn’t available earlier. I heard Melvin patched you up.”
He leans in to examine my cut and then whistles. “Goddamn it.”
Both Kip and I jerk our heads up.
“That son of a bitch does better stitches than me,” he says, shaking his head.
Kip chuckles, and I let out a sigh of relief.
“You’ve been the talk of the town today.”
“Have I?”
Paul hooks his thumb over his shoulder toward Kip. “Oh yes, getting Mr. Recluse over here to settle down. Every woman in a hundred miles has been trying to do that for years.”
I blush and avert my eyes.
“Well, anyway, Melvin sent over your x-rays. It’s just a hairline fracture. Should heal up just fine in a few weeks with that cast.”
He takes my wrist in his hand and looks over the cast.
“Jesus Christ, his casts are better than mine too,” he says.
I smile and glance over at Kip. He’s leaning against the wall. Arms crossed over his chest. Ugh. The leaning. Not the leaning again.
“Well, anything else hurt? Did your body get banged up? Any bruising? Tenderness?” Paul asks.
“Well...”
I feel Kip’s eyes on me even though I’m not looking at him. I pull up my shirt to show a huge bruise that’s spread across my ribs and side.
“Oh dear, why don’t you lay back so I can get a better look?”
I catch a glimpse of Kip out of the corner of my eye as Paul helps me lean back. There’s no more murder eyes - he looks...well, he actually looks concerned. He’s not leaning anymore. He’s standing straight, craning his eyes for a better view.
Paul tenderly touches my stomach, and I hold my breath.
“This hurt?”
“A bit,” I say.
He listens to my heart and lungs with his stethoscope.
“Good news, it looks like all this is just superficial. Won’t feel good for a few days but should heal fine on its own.”
He helps me sit up and then says, “Date of your last period?”
“What?” I blink.
“When was the date of your last period, darling? You aren’t pregnant, are you?”
“No,” I say, and then I repeat more firmly. “No, definitely not.”
“Do you remember when you had your period last?”
My mind is going completely blank. I see Kip out of the corner of my eye. I’m expecting him to look away and pretend not to listen, but he’s just staring straight at me.
“Let me look at my calendar,” I say. Shit. I don’t have my actual phone with me. I frown for a second. “Um. Oh, sorry, I don’t have my calendar on this phone. Let me just think for a moment.”
“Why don’t we just have you take a pregnancy test just in case?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” I say.
“Are you on any birth control?”
“No, I’m not.” My eyes find Kip again. Dammit, the man is watching this scene like it's the most riveting movie he’s ever seen.
Paul looks over at Kip and then back at me. “Are you using any birth control? Condoms?”
My face is bright red now. One of the corners of Kip’s mouth turns up.
“Are you trying to get pregnant? In that case, we really need to...”
“I’ll just take the test,” I say, hopping off the examination table. My face is burning right now, and I can see Kip smirking in the corner. He’s really enjoying himself.
Paul rummages through a drawer and hands me a pregnancy test.
“Do you know how these work?”
“Yes, I’ve got it.” I take it from him without looking up.
I rush out of the room. Once I’m in the bathroom, I splash water on my face. I’d like to move its shade from tomato red to sunset pink by the time I return to the other room.
I look at the test. Do I really have to take this?
Can I just pour water on it? I’m afraid that will backfire.
Will Paul know somehow? I know I’m not pregnant.
There’s literally no way I’m pregnant unless it’s an immaculate conception.
I haven’t had sex in...oh god, I can’t even.
..it’s been a while, let’s just leave it at that.
I pull the test from the wrapper and sit down and pee on it. I put the cover back on and pull up my pants.
When I walk into the examination room, I hand him the test without looking at Kip. “Let’s rule out a concussion while we wait for that,” Paul says. I return to the examining table, and he checks my eyes and asks me all kinds of questions.
When he finishes he picks up the test. “Not pregnant,” he says.
Kip walks over to me. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in until my head rests on his chest. What the hell is he doing?
“Maybe next month,” he whispers loudly.
What a dickhead.
“Have you been trying a while?” Paul asks. “It’s normal for it to take a few months, and that’s assuming you're together all the time. I know you’re long distance, so that complicates things.”
“Not too long,” Kip answers. I slip my arm around his waist underneath his shirt and dig my fingernails into his back. He doesn’t even flinch.
“I’m enjoying all the trying. I’m in no rush,” he says as he strokes my hair.
I dig my nails a little harder.
“Well, if you want some information on ovulation, I have some pamphlets over here.”
“No.” I pull back from Kip. “No, that’s not necessary.”
“Okay, well, if it doesn’t happen within a year, come back, and we’ll give you both a look over.”
“Sure thing, doc,” Kip says.
“Well, all in all, you look good Ginger. No sign of concussion. Take it easy the next few days.”
“I’ll make sure she does,” Kip says. I’m wondering if I can poison him tomorrow without anyone finding out as we walk back out into the waiting room.
Sylvia squeals when she sees us, and I look around in confusion. My eyes fall on the pregnancy test still in the doctor’s hands.
“Are you pregnant?” She claps her hands together.
Um...wait...do they not have HIPPA here?
Paul shakes his head. “No. Afraid not. They are still trying.”
Guess not. Okay, cool.
Sylvia’s face falls.
Kip puts his hand on my back. “We’re just getting started.”
Her face lights up again.
Kip slides his hands down my back and squeezes my ass. “Isn’t that right, cupcake?”
I grit my teeth and smile. “Yes, darling.”
“Well, we should be on our way,” Kip says. His hand is still on my ass, and somehow I love it and hate it at the same time. He has my stomach all in knots, and I’m not sure if it’s from anger or lust or a bit of both.
“What do I owe you?” I ask.
“Oh, Kip already took care of it. Don’t you worry.”
“Did you?”
“Gotta take care of my girl,” he says, squeezing my ass again.
Ok. Mister. That’s quite enough of that. The fingernails are about to come out again.
“That’s right. That’s how we do it in these parts,” Paul smiles.
“We’re so happy you’ve found someone, Kip,” Sylvia says. “It’s been such a rough couple of years for you.”
I feel Kip stiffen, and he drops his hand from my ass.
“Thank you.” he says, a bit too gruff. Sylvia doesn’t seem to notice.
“Nice meeting you, Ginger,” Sylvia calls as Kip leads me toward the door. “We’ll keep our fingers crossed.”
“Oh...um...thanks,” I say.
Kip leads me out the door, his arm around my shoulder. I don’t say a word until we’re both in the car, and then I turn to him and say, “You’re such an unbelievable butthead.”
He smirks. There’s a twinkle in his eye. “Worth it.”