Keeping Score
“Through what?” This must be some sort of dream, some sort of nightmare. She’d walked into a parallel dimension. Marilyn stepped back and lowered herself into the examination room’s chair.
Lena wiggled into a more comfortable position on the table. Her tone was just short of strident. “Can’t you see what the tension is doing to him? What it’s doing to the team?”
Marilyn studied the petite woman. Lena was passionate in her defense of the Monarchs. She honestly believed Marilyn was hurting the team. Medical schools didn’t prepare their students for sports fanatics. At least her medical school hadn’t. How should she approach this situation?
Marilyn drew a steadying breath, catching the hint of antiseptic beneath the vanilla-scented room freshener. She crossed her legs and folded her hands. “Lena, what do the Monarchs have to do with my ability to safely deliver your baby?”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with you.” Lena scowled. “It has to do with me and the fact that I don’t want the first person who touches my child to be the person responsible for the Monarchs losing the championship. My husband agrees with me.”
Oh, my word. If Lena and her husband could, they’d arrange for their baby to enter this world fully dressed in a Monarchs’ home uniform, complete with sweatband, mouth guard, and Air Jordans.
Marilyn was the last sane person in this room. She had to pull herself together. The health of her patient depended on it. “Le
na, you’re entering your final trimester. This isn’t a good time to change obstetricians.”
Lena’s expression became mulish. “This isn’t my first pregnancy. I have three children. I know how it’s done. If need be, I’ll deliver the baby myself.”
The other woman would do just that. And her husband—another Monarchs fanatic—would help her, making his hands the first to touch the next generation of Brooklyn Monarchs lunatics.
Heaven help us all. Marilyn clenched her jaw to keep it from dropping open. She studied the expectant mother’s stubborn chin, tight lips, and determined eyes. “I don’t like to talk about my personal life with my patients.”
“We’ve had this conversation before. You know the date of my last period, but your life is this big secret.” Lena raised her hands and wiggled her fingers.
Marilyn ignored Lena’s interruption. “Rick and I are going through a difficult time right now. But we’re trying to work things out.”
“No, you’re not.”
Marilyn’s head jerked back at Lena’s forceful denial. “Excuse me?”
“Why are you always asking to be excused? It’s not me you should be asking. It’s poor Rick.”
Marilyn’s head began to hurt. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re getting a divorce.”
Shock made Marilyn’s facial muscles lax. “No, we’re not. Where did you get that idea?”
Lena gave her a skeptical look. “The papers say you’re getting a divorce.” She reached into her crowded purse and pulled out a folded newspaper section.
Marilyn took the gossip section Lena offered and stared at the item on the top. According to the Horn, an anonymous source claimed Mrs. Evans had filed for a divorce from Brooklyn Monarchs shooting guard and twelve-year NBA veteran Warrick Evans. They’d referred to her as missus instead of doctor. They couldn’t even get that right.
“I don’t want my baby delivered by someone who would break poor Rick’s heart.” Lena sounded serious.
The words in the newspaper’s announcement wavered in and out of focus. The sheet went black, then white. An anonymous source? Really? From where had the newspaper gotten these lies and why did it print them?
“This. Isn’t. True.” Her words were thick and rough as she pushed them through her rapidly compressing vocal chords.
“Why would the newspapers lie?”
“To increase sales.” Marilyn handed back the paper. Her muscles were stiff. Her temper was straining. “It’s my marriage. I would know whether I’ve filed for divorce—and I haven’t.”
Lena stared at the folded publication. Her certainty seemed to be wavering. Marilyn no longer cared. Nothing she said would change the other woman’s mind.
She stood. “There are several O-B-G-Y-Ns on staff at this hospital. They’re all excellent. I can recommend with confidence any one of them.”
Lena looked from the gossip section to Marilyn and back. She stuffed the paper back into her purse and struggled to stand. “All right.”
Marilyn assisted Lena to her feet. “I’d be happy to meet with your new doctor to ensure your continuity of care.”