Claire hurried across the hall, left a urine sample in the bathroom, then returned to the room, where she dressed quickly in the hospital gown and climbed up onto the paper-covered examination table.
Moments later, Dr. Roloff walked in. He was a tall, gray-haired man with stern eyes and a ready smile. He’d been Claire’s doctor for most of her life. He’d tended her through ear infections, acne, and pregnancy. Now he was Alison’s doctor. Sam’s, too.
The doctor sat down on a rolling stool and moved toward her. “How’re the wedding plans going?”
“Great. Will you and Tina be able to make it?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. ” He paused, looked down for a minute. Claire knew he was thinking about the daughter he’d lost. “Diana would have loved your wedding. ”
Claire swallowed hard. It was true. One of the hardest parts of this wedding was doing it without Diana. The Bluesers had always done everything together. “She always said I was saving myself for royalty. ”
He finally looked up. The smile he offered was tired and more than a little worn. “Did you hear about Joe? He’s back in town. ”
“I know. How is he?”
Henry sighed heavily. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been to see Tina and me. ” It was obvious how hurt the doctor was by that.
“I’m sure he will. ”
“Yeah. I’m sure. ” Dr. Roloff pushed the glasses higher on his nose and straightened. “Well, enough of that. ” Opening her chart, he studied it. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. ”
“You’re not due to see me for another two months. Why so early, Claire? Usually we have to send three notices and make a phone call to get you in here. ”
“Birth control pills,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat up. It was ridiculous; she was thirty-five years old. There was no reason to be embarrassed. But she was. “We want to wait awhile before we get pregnant. ”
He studied her chart again, then nodded. “I wouldn’t want you on them for too many years, but for now you’ll be okay. We’ll start you on the mini pill. ”
“Great. ”
Dr. Roloff set her chart aside. “Let’s do your Pap smear. ”
When he was finished, Claire sat up.
“Your dad told me you had a headache last week,” he said, stripping off his gloves. “And that you twisted your left ankle. ”
Life in a small town. Claire sighed. For as long as she could remember, her dad had run to the doctor whenever she had a hangnail or a loose tooth. Her arrival at adulthood hadn’t changed his behavior. “Last year he thought I had Ménière’s disease after a ride on the Ferris wheel made me dizzy. ”
He smiled at that. “Sam is certainly vigilant in terms of health care, that’s true. You should have seen him when you were little. I got three calls a week asking if such-and-such was normal. Things like three sneezes in a row would set him off. Nonetheless, that doesn’t mean he’s a fool. Do the headaches seem to be triggered by your cycles?”
“I’m thirty-five,” she said with a laugh. “It seems like I’m always ovulating or flowing. So, yeah, maybe. ”
“Did you ever start exercising?”
“Ever? Ninth grade was a good year for me. I went out for track and volleyball. ”
He wrote something in her chart. Probably couch potato.
“Are you sleeping well?”
“Like a baby. Since I met Bobby . . . ” She blushed again. “Well, you know. I sleep great. ”
“I’m glad to hear that. Stress?”
“I’m a single mother who is about to get married for the first time. The sister I barely know is planning the wedding, and my mother is threatening to come. So, yes, I’m a little stressed out. ”
“Okay. Tell your dad I said everything is fine. No worries. But get some exercise. It’s the best treatment for stress. Also, you’re a little anemic again. That can cause headaches, too. So start taking some iron, okay?”