Stefano's Peach
“Stefa... er... umm... Mr. Baltierra, I am going to grab some dinner. You could join me if you like. I would love the company.” Is she fucking serious? She needs some tips on how to be coy.
“No, Taylor. Please have a goodnight,” I say going back to the paperwork on my desk. She hesitates in the doorway; I am assuming waiting for me to acknowledge her and when I don't she stomps out and slams the door. I am going to have to do something about her. Soon. This is getting out of hand.Chapter ThreeKaleraI want to throw up so bad. I have been a nervous wreck all night. To say I have barely slept would be an understatement. Try tossing and turning all night. I finally gave up and decided to get up and get dressed. Now I am staring in the bathroom mirror, trying to picture myself with a swollen stomach as it grows with a little miracle inside of it. I can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness in my heart that this baby is not going to come home with me so I can snuggle it and love it. Encourage it, nurture it, and support all of their hopes and dreams. ‘Snap out of it girl’, I say to myself. Drying off, I decide on a peach skirt and pair it with a rose-colored top. I brush my hair until it shines and walks out of the bathroom. I still have about two hours before I need to leave so I will finish getting ready in a little bit.
I find myself staring at the phone debating on whether or not I should call my parents. Even though I miss them, but I feel like I should thank them for the money that magically appeared in my bank account. I know logically that my mom must have done it because my dad never would give up four hundred dollars willingly. I don’t know what I would say and if they would even answer. But somehow, I find myself dialing the number anyway. Fidgeting, I hold my breath until I realize they aren’t going to pick up. I don't know why it hurts as I expected it any other way, but it still stings. “Lera, you still here?” I hear Tori call from the door.
“Yea. I’m in the room.”
“Hey. Are you almost ready?” she asks, pulling me in for a hug. I squeeze her, not realizing how much I needed it until now.
“Yep. Just need to put on my shoes and grab my stuff.” I say trying not to show just how scared I am. “I tried to call mom and dad.”
“Let me guess how that turned out.” her sarcasm makes me laugh.
“I don’t know what I expected.”
“It’s ok, Lera. We knew what would happen when we decided to do this. We knew they would never speak to us again. We can’t let that stop us now.'' I nod knowing she is right. I put on my brown wedges, peach lip gloss, a spray of my favorite orchard peach, body mist, grab my purse and walk toward the door. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I don’t have anything going on besides a seminar with the science department.”
“No, it’s ok. It's just a physical, some paperwork, and information. I can do that myself. I love you.” I say before I hug her and walk out the door. Sitting on the bus, everything in me is telling me to turn back around but at the same time, I have this feeling that something else is going to come from this. Something other than what I am expecting.
Standing in front of the clinic, I fortify myself, chanting over and over why I am doing this. My first impression when I walk in is that it is clean, and quite elegant. The lady at the front desk greets me, smiling and kind.
“Hi, sweetie. Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes. I have an appointment with Dr. Coulter. My name is Kalera Baldwin.”
“Oh yes. I see it here. This is the paperwork we need you to fill out before you are called back to the room. I am also going to need your I.D. card.'' I nod my head pulling out my card and handing it to her. Once she makes a copy and gives it back, I sit in the chair and begin to fill out everything from my name to my shoe size. By the time I am done dissecting myself on paper, I feel drained and like I could sleep for days. Who knew this could be so mentally taxing?
“Miss Baldwin.” I look up and see a nurse standing at the door looking for me. Standing, I smile and make my way over to her. She leads me to an exam room where she takes my vitals, hands me a cup to take into the bathroom, and draws blood. After all of that, I sit in the room waiting for what feels like at least an hour before the doctor comes in.