Wendy handed me a paper gown. “Just put this on, sweetie. You can leave your bra on.”
I stared at the blue folded paper. “Everything else off? Won’t the pee tell you if I’m pregnant?” I was well aware that I sounded as unsure as I felt.
“Yes, but according to the dates you provided and your history of irregular menstruation, you could have become pregnant sooner than you are assuming. I want to check your uterus and see if we can get a better hold on how far along you are.”
“Are you saying you know I’m pregnant?”
“Change into the gown while Kristine and I talk in the hallway.”
“Kristine?” I asked.
“This is all routine, Maddie. Don’t worry.”
Nodding, I waited until the two left me alone. The drab room was small with the exam table, a light on a stretchy long thing, a stool, a chair, and a small counter with a sink attached to the wall. It had been a long time since I’d been seen anywhere that wasn’t a free clinic. I supposed my unease was due to simply being out of my element.
Once I had the new clothes removed and neatly folded, I donned the gown as I’d been instructed, climbed onto the exam table’s edge, and called to Kristine and Wendy.
As they entered, Kristine was putting something into her purse that looked like an envelope.
“Is that my medical records?” I asked.
“What? No. Yes. I’ll show them to you later.”
I stared up at the ceiling as Wendy donned gloves, instructed me where to place my feet and legs, and began her exam. It didn’t hurt as much as it was uncomfortable. Obviously, I wasn’t a virgin, but having this woman look at me and place things into me was different and invasive. She pushed from within and without.
“Is that tender?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“How many sexual partners have you had?”
I looked up at Kristine. The answer was one, but if I said one, wouldn’t they expect me to know his information?
“I’m going to assume that means you’re unsure of the number.”
My stomach dropped at her theory. I wanted to scream that it was one, only one, and he’s my husband. Before I could, I sucked in a breath, wincing as she placed something new inside me and scraped. “Ouch.”
“We’re checking for STDs.”
The two women continued talking, but I wasn’t listening. I only wanted to know the result of the pregnancy test, and it seemed as though she was saying it was positive. I didn’t care about her assumptions. All I wanted to do is leave and get back to Patrick.
“Beautiful girl,” I heard Wendy say. “At this point I’d estimate her to be fifteen weeks into this pregnancy. Assuming she’s clean, the baby alone will be sought after. Adding her could net quite a bounty.”
I heard their words, but they weren’t making sense.
“I’m pregnant?” I asked again for clarification.
Wendy stood and removed her gloves. “Yes. The last step is the interview with Dr. Miller.”
“Interview? I didn’t understand. And fifteen weeks? How could I be that far along?”
Kristine’s hand came to my shoulder. “Don’t you understand? That’s great news. You’re past your first trimester.”
“But shouldn’t I be showing?”
She looked at my exposed stomach and legs. “I’d say you are.”
My hands went to my stomach. She was right. It wasn’t much. I’d attributed it to the food at the mission, but there was a bump.
“You change back into that new dress,” Kristine said, “and then you can meet with him.”
“Why?”
Wendy nodded as she stepped from the room.
“Why am I being interviewed?” I asked again.
“All very normal protocol. I mean, Dr. Miller only takes on so many pro-bono cases. This is a great opportunity for you and your baby—prenatal vitamins and a healthy pregnancy. You want that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I guess. I just wish Patrick were here.”
“You change into the dress and knock when you’re done.”
Though my heart was racing, I agreed, the whole time wishing to be back at the mission, wishing I’d told Patrick the truth.
Once I was dressed again, I did as Kristine said and knocked on the door.
When it opened, Wendy scanned me up and down. “I think you will work out well.”
I looked up and down the hallway. “Where is Kristine?”
“Not to worry. Please follow me.”
Worry was an understatement as I walked on the unfamiliar high heels along the quiet hallway. When she stopped at one of the last doors, she inserted a key and opened the door. “Dr. Miller will be along shortly.”
The door opened wider and my steps stalled as my heartbeat tripled in time.
“What is this?”
The room within was decorated like a cheap motel room. Basically, there was a bed and a chair. No windows. How high were we? I couldn’t remember.
“I think I need to speak to Kristine.”
“Step inside, Miss Tate. Learn to behave and the future is full of endless possibilities for you and your baby. Assuming Dr. Miller approves, your rewards and punishments are at my discretion as long as you’re here. I suggest you accept that.”
“Wait, no, I need to get back to my husband.”
Her lips curled upward. “Girls like you don’t have husbands.” She nodded to my hand. “No wedding ring and an untold number of partners. The fact that I don’t see any obvious disease is a positive. Enter the room, Miss Tate.”
I peered back the way we’d come. The hallway was empty.
“Don’t make me repeat myself again,” she said.
When I stepped in, the door behind me shut. The clicking of the lock echoed against the plain walls.
What was happening?
What had I done?
I paced back and forth, wishing there was a bathroom or anything attached. There wasn’t. The room was a box consisting of four walls and one door. The only light was overhead, and I didn’t see a switch. Avoiding the bed, I sat on the chair and then stood. I paced and then sat. There was no sense of time.
Did Patrick know I was missing?
My breathing caught as I turned within the chair toward the sound of the opening door.
My beating heart thumped in my ears, echoing, as an older man entered. He wasn’t dressed like a doctor. He wasn’t wearing a lab coat or carrying a stethoscope but instead wore a nice suit. His black loafers were covered in water droplets as if he’d recently been outside.
After locking the door, he placed a key in the pocket of his trousers. My nose scrunched as he came closer, preceded by the strong odor of cologne and cigars.
“Stand up and turn around.”
“I really think there’s been some mistake. I don’t belong here.”
Immediately, my chin was in his painful grasp. “You were not given permission to speak. Take off the dress, the hose, all of it and turn around.”
Tears came to my eyes. “Please.”
The strike came out of nowhere. I didn’t anticipate the blow to my cheek or what would happen next.
How could I?
Madeline