Rock Wedding(46)
“Third.”
He put his hand on her lower back as they got into the elevator, kept it there as they stepped out. Their luck held. Miracle of miracles, there was no one else in the waiting room.
Smiling, the white-haired receptionist said, “You’re in luck, Sarah. We’ve had two cancellations in a row, so you don’t have to wait. The nurse will be right out to fetch you.” A pause, her eyes on her computer screen. “Oh, wait, I see the doctor said for you to see him directly—he wanted to check up on that flu of yours. I’ll have the nurse show you through.”
“How did you end up with a country doctor in LA?” Abe murmured to Sarah as they waited for the nurse, his hope to make Sarah smile.
That smile was shaky. “Dr. Snyder is a country doctor—and the receptionist is his wife,” Sarah whispered. “They only relocated to LA because their daughter and grandkids are here. I’m going to miss them both when he retires like he’s threatening to do.”
“Does she always call him ‘the doctor’?”
Sarah nodded. “She’s very proud of him.”
Then the nurse, a short no-nonsense woman with a warm smile, was there.
Once inside the doctor’s office, Sarah took a seat in the chair nearest a fifty-something male who sported a bushy black mustache and kind brown eyes above the white of his medical coat, his pale skin dotted with freckles.
Abe shut the door before taking a seat in the chair next to her.
“Sarah.” The doctor’s eyes scanned Sarah’s record on the computer. “How’s that flu you couldn’t shake off? Any problems?” He put on his stethoscope and pressed one end to Sarah’s chest.
“I’m—”
“Breathe deep,” the doctor interrupted. “Now out.” He made her do that several times before nodding. “Excellent. All clear.”
Sarah’s smile was tight. “The antibiotics took care of the chest infection in the first couple of days, but I finished the whole course like you said.”
“Good, good.” The doctor typed a note into her medical file using one finger on each hand, pecking at the keys as fast as a bird hunting for food. “So you just came in for the follow-up?”
Sarah swallowed, her hands gripping at her purse. Abe couldn’t stand to see her so distressed. Putting one hand over hers, he met the doctor’s eyes. “She thinks the antibiotics messed with the pill and she might be pregnant.”
“The ones I gave you shouldn’t have counteracted the pill unless… Did you throw up at any point? That could’ve had an impact on the effectiveness of the pill.”
“Yes.” Sarah swallowed, her fingers curling over the side of Abe’s hand. “It was the night before the monthly anniversary of Aaron’s death. I just couldn’t keep anything down.”
“Ah.” The doctor looked gently at Sarah, and in his expression, Abe saw a deep understanding of Sarah’s loss, compassion for the little baby boy who had never breathed. And he realized the kindhearted man had asked to speak to Sarah directly not simply because he’d wanted to check she was over the flu: Dr. Snyder was a rare being—a true healer, one who cared about his patients’ mental as well as physical well-being.
“I’m guessing you want to confirm as soon as possible?” At Sarah’s nod, Dr. Snyder said, “Home pregnancy tests are surprisingly sensitive, but if you want absolute certainty, I’d recommend a blood test.”
Sarah nodded. “The blood test. I want to know beyond any doubt.”
“Our blood test results usually come back overnight, but I can put a rush on it.” The older man was already pulling up the form on his computer. “It probably won’t be covered by your insurance.”
“That’s fine,” Abe said.
Sarah was in no shape to handle any kind of a delay.
Squeezing her hand again when she parted her lips as if to disagree with his implicit offer to pay, he continued to speak. “Are we talking a couple of hours, half a day?” he asked Dr. Snyder.
“I’ll draw the blood myself, send it by rush courier to the laboratory. You should have the results this afternoon.”
SARAH WAS BACK IN ABE’S SUV WITHIN fifteen minutes of the start of the consultation, a tiny square bandage in the crook of her arm where Dr. Snyder had taken the blood sample. She felt as if she were living in a dream world, everything surreal. “I have a meeting scheduled for later today.”
“Can you postpone?” Abe pulled out of the underground garage and into the searing sunshine of an LA day.
Sliding on her sunglasses, Sarah found her phone, made the call, still feeling oddly distant. “I should’ve kept it,” she said after hanging up. “I don’t know what I’m going to do while we wait to hear back from Dr. Snyder.”