“March seems far away, but there’s a lot to get squared away before then, and once Quinn hits the seventh month, she might not be up for any of those big discussions. And there’s a chance the baby could come early.”
“I’ve thought about it,” I tell him. “There are a lot of great hospitals in the Chicago area I’d be honored to work for.”
Mr. Dawson’s thin smile grows, and he lets out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. I don’t doubt you,” he says, words sounding forced. Thinking back to Weston and his mother’s conversation last night, I’m pretty sure what’s to come next was scripted by Mrs. Dawson.
He lets out his breath, giving up on what he was supposed to say. “Don’t hurt Quinn.”
“I won’t. All I want is to make her happy.”
Mr. Dawson sets his jaw and nods. “I’ll hold you to it. We all will.”
“I expect you to, sir.”
His smile turns genuine this time, and he waves his hand at the door. “Drive safe, Archer. I assume we’ll see you again soon.”
I go back to Quinn, who’s anxiously waiting for me back on the couch.
“What was that about?” she asks. “Did he yell at you?”
“No. He’s being a good dad, that’s all. Wants to make sure I’m here for you.”
She smiles and loops her arms around my shoulders. “You are.”
And I always will be.
“Dean still hasn’t talked to you?” Quinn asks, moving around her kitchen. It’s Monday evening and I just got out of a long surgery. I’m sitting in the break room with my dinner, resting my feet while I can.
We’re FaceTiming, and I miss her like crazy. “No. I texted him this morning, but he doesn’t always reply right away anyway.”
“He’s being a drama queen over this, way more than me, and I’m the pregnant one.”
I laugh. “He’s always been dramatic.”
Quinn shakes her head. “Try growing up with him.” She sets the phone down for a moment to feed the cats. “The smell of cat food is killing me today.” Covering her nose, she goes into the living room and sits on the couch. I’d do anything to be there next to her.
“You work this weekend, right?” she asks.
“I have scheduled procedures for Saturday and I’m on call Sunday.”
“So there’s a chance you could be home Sunday?”
“A small one, but yes.”
She bites her lip and smiles. “I can come visit you.”
“That’s a long drive.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Do you not want to put your hands on these?” She lifts her shirt, revealing her perfect round tits.
“You’re fucking killing me, Quinn. Yes, I want to see you, but I don’t want to make you drive.”
“You’re not making me. I’m offering. And I have access to a private jet that can fly me there in like an hour.”
“Really?”
“Perks of building the Batmobile.” She flashes a smile. “You look hot in your doctor clothes, by the way.”
“They’re called scrubs,” I say with a chuckle. “Would you leave Friday night?”
“Yeah, probably around six or seven my time.”
“That seems so far away now.”
“It does.” She sits up, grimacing, and reaches for something in front of her. I get another good view of her tits, though this time she didn’t do it on purpose. Sipping a ginger ale, she leans back on the couch.
And then I’m paged for surgery.
“I have to go.”
“Already?”
“Yeah. Someone needs an emergency gallbladder removal. It’s the second one I’ve done today.”
“Go save lives, Dr. Jones. I’m probably going to go to bed.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow then. Take care, Quinn.”
We hang up and I take a few quick bites of my sandwich, use the bathroom, and head to the OR. My patient is in bad shape, having refused to listen to his general practitioner’s advice for several weeks now, and going under is going to take a toll on his body.
The surgery takes longer than normal, but he pulls through. Though as soon as I get into the recovery room to talk to him, I can tell I’ll be seeing him again soon. There’s nothing that irritates me more than someone who refuses to listen to post-op instructions and ends up back in a few days to get re-stitched.
I have a missed call, and I assume it’s from Quinn, calling to say goodnight or something like that. It’s from my mother, and for some reason, I already know it’s bad news.
I move by a window in the hall to get better reception, and put the phone to my ear. I meant to call her today and talk to her, maybe even invite them down from Michigan to meet Quinn and I in Chicago for dinner.
My parents will be surprised to find out I not only have a girlfriend, but a pregnant one at that, but I don’t expect their reaction to be anything like the Dawsons’. My parents have been desensitized to shocking information, and being told Quinn is having my baby is nothing compared to getting a call that Bobby has been arrested for the fifth time.
“Archie,” Mom’s voice comes through my voicemail. “Call me when you can. Bobby relapsed, and I don’t know where he is.”
28
Quinn
“Can you tell?” I smooth my shirt over my stomach and turn to the side.
“No.” Marissa shakes her head. “I know you and you’ve always been a skinny bitch, so I guess I’m able to pick up on that slight bump you claim is the baby, but to anyone else, you look like you ate a big meal.”
“It’s weird,” I say, wrinkling my nose, and grab my shoes. I take off my heels and put on my running shoes, not caring how silly it looks with my dress pants and blouse. It’s Friday, and we’re leaving work for the week. “I’m almost looking forward to showing.”
“Just don’t turn into Bethany.”
I widen my eyes and shake my head, showing my horror. “If I do, slap me.” Bethany works with us and had her first baby last year. She made sure everyone knew everything about the pregnancy and complained nonstop about her symptoms. Though I can emphasize now, and after throwing up three times yesterday, I broke down and took an anti-nausea pill this morning.
I still feel sick, but I haven’t puked. It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it.
“Your brother still won’t talk to Archer?” Marissa asks.
I shake my head. “Nope. And now Kara won’t reply to my texts since she realized my due date and her wedding date don’t exactly mesh.”
“Ouch.”
I close my office door, locking it behind me. Marissa and I head to the elevators. “I get it, though. It’s terrible timing. What happens if I go into labor on her wedding day? I told my mom she’s to stay at the wedding if it happens, but it’ll be a big distraction for everyone.”
“And she’s not going to move her date?”
I shake my head. “Nope. The place she wants to get married at is booked solid until the next year.”
“Can you call and bribe someone?”
“I didn’t think of that. I think I will.”
“I was joking.” Marissa pressed the elevator button. “But if it works…”
“Right? Anything to quell the drama.”
We step into the elevator. “Are you all packed and ready for your weekend with the sexy doctor?”
“I am. I just
have to stop by home and check on my cats before I head out.”
“You’re so lame.”
“Hey,” I say, trying hard to sound offended. “I love my kitties.”
“Your other kitty is going to be happier.”
I laugh. “Oh yeah, it will be.”
Archer got called into emergency surgery and is sending his friend Sam to come pick me up from the airport. He apologized over and over, and while I’m anxious to see him, I don’t mind. It comes with the territory of dating a doctor.
Sam is nice, a bit talkative, and if he’s Archer’s friend, then I want to get to know him too. We pick up Chinese takeout on the way home, and I order extra for Archer.
“Make yourself at home,” Sam tells me when we step into the apartment. I take a quick second to look around. Everything is nice and neat with minimal decorations. Archer told me he always viewed this place as temporary, knowing he’d leave after he finished at the hospital here and finds a permanent position.
Sam sits on the couch, setting his food on the coffee table. I follow suit and take a seat on the opposite side.
“Do you like Game of Thrones?” he asks, picking up the remote.
“Do I like Game of Thrones?” I echo. “Do I like breathing? Yes!”
“I’ve been watching the behind-the-scenes footage.”
“Oh, I love that stuff! It always amazes me to see all the work they put into it.”
An hour later, we’re coming up with names for our houses, and Archer walks in. His face lights up when he sees me, and he rushes over. I stand and throw my arms around him. He brushes my hair back and kisses me, sending a jolt right through me.
“I brought you food,” I tell him, sliding my hands over his arms. “But do you want to have sex first?”
“I’m officially jealous,” Sam laughs. “She’s a good one, Jones.”
Archer picks me up in a swift swoop, answering my question with another kiss. He carries me into his bedroom, and we fall onto his bed together.