Hope Over Fear (Over #1) (31 page)

“No, I don’t need to see it. You can throw it in the trash,” Chanda tells our new patient as she kicks the can in her direction.

“But don’t you need to make sure it’s my mucus plug?” she asks, holding out a tissue.

“No!” Chanda yelps. “I’m sorry, I mean it’s not necessary. You can throw it away and follow Melody into your room to change. Thank you so much.”

As the patient walks away, Chanda shakes her head in disbelief. “Why in the hell do patients think they need to save every gross little thing that leaks out of their vagina? Hello, I’ll see what I need to see when I examine them. There’s no need to contaminate their purse with bodily fluids.”

“The best show-and-tell I’ve ever had was a patient who brought me a black speck in a tissue. She said it came out of her pubic hair, and she wanted me to tell her if it was crabs. That’s ballsy, man,” Marlo shares with wide, disbelieving eyes.

I laugh as I walk to the front desk of the unit. “Paramedics will be here shortly. They picked up a pre-term labor patient, and James said they are three minutes out.”

“I’ll get her settled when she gets here,” Chanda offers. “I’ll be leaving for the day in a little while, so I’ll assess and then hand her off to you, Marlo.”

“No prob, boss,” Marlo says as the stretcher wheels squeak down the hallway, announcing the new patient’s arrival. Mike follows Chanda with the stretcher to bring the patient to a room while James stays behind to complete the necessary paperwork.

“Ah, my friend, Sara! It’s good to see you,” James quips with a welcoming smile.

“Hey. How’s it been going?” While there’s no spark with James, I do get a sense of comfort from him, like he’s genuinely a good guy.

“Oh, pretty good, I guess. How about you? How are your … circumstances?” he asks in a flirtatious tone.

“Uh, yeah, my circumstances. Well, James, it appears that my circumstances have changed again. Life’s a bitch that way, I guess.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s all in how you look at things. I like to think a change in circumstances opens you up to new opportunities. Would you be open to exploring new opportunities?”

Shit, I know I’m not ready to even entertain the notion of moving on. James seems like a nice guy, and I hate to hurt his feelings, but I think going on a date at this point would be a really bad idea.

“I don’t know, James, I don’t think it’s a good idea right now …”

“Look, don’t overthink it, okay? We’re just two friends getting to know each other better. No expectations. Northern U has a baseball game late Friday afternoon. What do ya say? We can check out the game and maybe grab some dinner after. Just two friends hanging out,” James suggests as he smiles hopefully.

I’m certain I need to shoot him down, but James just unknowingly said the magic words:
Friday night.
And I just found my out.

“You know what, let’s do it. Just friends, though. I don’t want to give you any mixed signals. I’m not ready for more than that,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Absolutely! I’ll pick you up at four o’clock. We’ll have a great time, I promise. A great time with a PG rating of course. I’ll get your address from Mike,” James shoots over his shoulder as he trails behind Mike as they leave the unit.

“Oh, goodie, Sara’s back in the game. I’ve been itching to watch another train wreck.” Sarcasm drips off Melody’s words, and I fist my hands at my sides and squeeze my eyes shut.

“Melody, don’t you need to fish your patient’s mucus plug out of the trash? Move along, bitch, move along,” Marlo says with equal amounts sarcasm. Melody huffs and stalks away, leaving Marlo and me alone at the desk.

“Don’t worry about that twat face. She’s just pissed because no man can stomach her company for longer than it takes to rip the condom off. We won’t even discuss the bag they have to put over her head.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it, actually. It’s just that I’ve always heard if you ignore the bullies, they’ll stop. She seems to get more enjoyment as time passes.”

“Sometimes, you need to stand up to the bullies to make them go away.” Marlo raises an eyebrow and squeezes my shoulder. “You know you’re playing with fire with this James shit, right?”

“It’s just a friendly meeting, Marlo, nothing to get your panties in a twist over. Oh, but I won’t be able to make it to the barbeque Friday night. Sorry.” I shrug my shoulders apologetically. At least apologetic is the look I’m striving for.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing, girl,” Marlo says as she walks away shaking her head.

I sure as hell hope so, too.

“Wake Me Up” by Avicii

“I’M AFRAID SHE won’t like me, Sara. I mean, let’s be real. I’m a pregnant teenager who’s giving her baby away. That’s not exactly a glowing endorsement,” Abby whispers while she wrings her hands, her eyes cast downward.

Abby and I are taking a short road trip to visit my mom, and I think it’s just what she needs. I feel her stress level rising as her due date approaches, and my mom has a way of pampering and fussing over people she cares about that is second-to-none. I think my mom may help clear Abby’s mind and let her relax, if only for a little while.

“Hey, what did I tell you about judging? No one has the right, and that includes my mother. Besides, she’s not like that. She’s going to love you. But I want you to hear my endorsement of you. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she mutters sarcastically.

“You are a smart, loving, and funny girl. You have exceptional grades and test scores that are off the charts. You’ve excelled with no encouragement from home, when most people would have done just enough to get by or quit entirely. You give and receive love like you’ve never been hurt, and we both know you have been. And you are giving Tom and Ellie the greatest gift in the world. I’m so lucky to know a girl like that, don’t you think?”

Abby looks out the passenger window, avoiding eye contact with me. I know the pregnancy has made her a bit more emotional than usual, and she has too much pride to show me her tears. I grab her hand and squeeze, and she immediately returns the gesture.

“If you say so …” she whispers quietly.

We arrive at my childhood home about half an hour later, and my mom is bounding down the front steps before I turn off the ignition.

“Sara, get over here, my girl. I need to hug you,” she says before she attempts to squeeze me to death.

“All right, Mom, I missed you, too. No reason to kill me. I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh, you must be Abby. I’m Mary, Sara’s mother. It’s so nice to meet you. And just look at you. You’re glowing,” Mom says as she grabs Abby’s hands and stretches out to inspect her. “My, what a pretty girl you are!”

Abby blushes with the extra attention, and I giggle softly at my mom’s display. “Mom, I think you’re embarrassing her. You may want to tone it down just a tad.”

“Oh nonsense, Sara. It’s just my way. I’m sure she will get used to it, right Abby?”

“Yes, ma’am, it’s fine. Thank you for inviting me to your home,” Abby says in a soft whisper. I predict my mom will break her of her shyness soon enough.

“Of course, my sweet girl, it’s my pleasure. Now let’s get inside and have some breakfast. I made homemade blueberry muffins for you girls.”

Mom fusses over Abby all morning, and I love it. This is what she’s been missing in her life—someone to make her feel special and loved. They talk about school, her friends, the pregnancy, her plans for the future, and the Broussards. My mom gives her full attention to Abby, soaking in everything she shares. Like I predicted, Abby doesn’t stay withdrawn for very long. My mom could coax a bear out of hibernation.

After settling Abby in my childhood bedroom for a late morning nap, I lean against the kitchen doorframe and watch my mother as she flits around the kitchen. God, I love her so much. It pains me to know Abby has never experienced unconditional love like my mom has given me all of my life.

“What can I help with?” I ask as I enter the kitchen.

“Nothing at all, my baby. Please sit and tell me what’s on your mind. I want to know everything.”

“Thank you for being so gracious with Abby. She needed a little Mary Preston in her life,” I joke and shoot my mom a wink.

“Well, I’m not sure what that means, but no thank you is necessary. What a beautiful young lady. So smart, so determined. Life hasn’t been kind to her, has it?”

“No, it hasn’t. She makes me feel so blessed to have you,” I say as I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. “Where would I be without your love and support? I’m certain I wouldn’t have fared as well as Abby. She thinks this pregnancy is a failure on her part, but I have a feeling it just may save her.”

“Give yourself some credit, Sara. Yes, I have been and always will be here for you, but you have a lot in common with Abby. When I look at her, I see you. There’s a reason you are drawn to that girl. You’re both fighters.”

I chuckle at her comment and shake my head. “I like the way you see me, Mom. It’s good for my ego.” I hesitate momentarily, unsure of how to ask her what I’m dying to know. “Mom, what was your social life like when I was a kid?”

“Ha! That came out of nowhere. I don’t know how to answer that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to catch you off guard …”

“No, no, it’s okay. You just surprised me. What do you mean by social life?”

I cock my head to the side and give her a knowing look. “Mom, you know what I mean.”

“Right. Well, I guess it was about average for a single mom. I dated occasionally, nothing too serious.” She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Why did you never introduce me to anyone you dated?”

“Nothing ever got that serious. It is my deepest regret that you lost your father so early in your life, never getting the chance to know what a wonderful man he was. I couldn’t bring him back, but I could give you consistency. The only way I would have introduced you to a man I dated was if I knew it was forever.” She inhales a deep breath and searches for her next words. “In a way, the loss of your father was a bit muted because of how young you were when he died. But don’t misunderstand; I think the loss has colored your life in many ways. But you never experienced the bone-crushing grief that a person initially feels when someone they love dies. You were too young to understand grief when we lost him. I would never allow anyone to enter your life that could cause you that type of pain if they walked away from us. I would have never forgiven myself. Does that answer your question?”

“I think so.” I shift in my seat and try to imagine our lives from my mom’s point of view. “Didn’t you ever want to be selfish? You must have resented me. Never being able to get serious with someone because of me.”

“Let’s get one thing straight. I’ve never, ever resented you a day in my life. Having you in my life was—and still is—the very best thing. Don’t ever question that.” Her eyes bore through me, bringing her point home. I nod my head in agreement. “As far as being selfish, I think you’d have to be a parent to understand. It’s ingrained in me to think of you first. I’ve never thought of it as a sacrifice, it was just the way it was … the way it is. I’ll always make decisions to protect you. And I could have gotten serious with someone, but I never met anyone who stood a chance against your father. He set the bar extremely high, and no one has ever measured up. If someone had met my standards, you would have met him. It just never happened.”

“I see,” I say simply.

Mom narrows her gaze at me and tilts her head. “What’s brought all this on? What’s going on, honey?”

“Nothing, Mom. I’m just trying to understand how it was for you.”

“Uh huh, sure. Well, I fully expect to meet him when you decide it’s forever. Do you hear me, girl?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say as I eye everything in the room but my mom.

“Sure you don’t.”

“So what’s your poison? Frozen margarita or margarita on the rocks?” James asks as he leans his elbows on the table.

“I think I’ll have a frozen strawberry margarita.”

No matter how much I try to relax, this feels all kinds of wrong. I can’t rid myself of the pit in my stomach. My nerves are spun so tightly, I feel as if I’ve drank three espressos. James has been a perfect gentleman, keeping things strictly platonic. It was friendly and fun with the distraction of the baseball game, but the tone changed as soon as we entered the quiet car to drive to the restaurant. The tension dissipates a bit when the waiter drops off chips and salsa and takes our drink order. Unfortunately, the cloud moves back in the second he walks away.