Somewhere in His Arms (13 page)

             
He picked up his phone and dialed. He waited patiently and was about to throw the phone across the room when someone finally picked up. “H-Hello?”

             
“Don’t ‘hello’ me you miserable son of a bitch!” Rudy snarled into the phone. “Do you have any idea
what
you’ve done?”

             
“Why don’t you explain it to me?” drawled the familiar voice.              

             
“I hope you’re happy!”

             
“What the hell are you talking about?”

             
“She’s pregnant!”
Rudy hissed at him and hung up. He tossed the phone into the wastebasket, ignoring the urgent strains of Beethoven’s “5th Symphony” and poured himself another drink. Before this day was through, he was going to get well and truly hammered. “Here’s to the father,” he jeered and raised his glass in a belated toast. If and when Rudy got a hold of him, he was going to be sorry he was ever born.             

*
* *

              “Don’t drink that,” he muttered and snatched the glass out of her hand. “I think it’s spiked.”

             
“How did---”

             
“That fellow over there,” he nodded in the direction of two men who were clearly having a great time judging by their drunken laughter. “He waited till you left for the ladies’ room and slipped some sort of powder into it.”

             
“W-Why would he do that?” she sputtered in outrage. “I don’t even know him!”

             
He laughed, the smooth deep reverberation washing over every nerve and leaving her slightly breathless. “Have you looked in the mirror, sweetheart?”

             
“That’s ridiculous!” she scoffed, feeling slightly embarrassed. “There are plenty of beautiful women here I’m sure would just love to go home with him!”

             
He laughed again and ordered her another drink and told the bartender to go easy on the rum. “You look like you don’t drink very often.”

             
“I don’t.

             
“So what’s the occasion? Here on a ladies’ night out?”

             
“Hardly,” she sighed. “I caught my fiancée in bed with my stepmother,” she gulped and took a swig of her rum and coke.

             
“You’re not serious...”

             
“I am,” she said, choking back tears. “They were going at it like two dogs in heat in my old bedroom!”

             
He handed her a handkerchief. ‘There, now,” he soothed.  “He’s not worth it
,
love.”

             
There was a long period of awkward silence as he let her cry. She was grateful for his company. “Thank you for this,” she croaked as she held up his ruined handkerchief. “I’ll wash it for you.”

             
“Keep it, love,” he smiled, revealing a glorious set of white teeth. “Let’s sit over there and you can tell me all about the sorry bastard.”

             
“Oh, you don’t want to hear all about that!”

             
“No, really,” he urged. “You’ll feel better once you’ve spilled your guts.”

             
She glanced up at him shyly. “I d-don’t know where to begin.”

             
He sat quietly and listened as she told him all about the man she was going to marry and how he’d broken her heart. “I’m not boring you, am I?” she fretted and took another sip of her drink. She wondered if she should cut back, for some reason she was getting lightheaded.

             
“You were going to
marry
him?” he asked incredulously. ”Good God, why?”

             
“I don’t know,” she muttered miserably as she tinkered with her glass. ”I guess I was lonely and he was just there.”

             
He nodded and stirred his own drink, suddenly deep in thought. “You know,” he said at last, “wouldn’t it be just awful if you showed up with a husband?”

             
She nearly fell off her stool. “W-What did you say?” she asked stupidly.

             
He leaned forward eagerly. “You know, show up with me in tow. That would really bust his bollocks!”

             
She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You’re not serious!”

             
He shrugged and looked at her intently. “I’m very serious, love.”

             
She looked away, blushing to the roots of her hair and was startled as he reached out and took her hand. “How ‘bout it, love?” he asked in a trembling voice. “Want to get married?”

             
She must have cracked her own gourd because she heard herself say softly in reply, ”Yes....”

              “Hello...?” Lucy had finally felt well enough to get out of bed on Wednesday and was on the phone to an old friend. “Diane? It’s me. Oh, I’m doing okay. What do you mean? All right, I’m lying through my teeth. Listen, I need you to do a big favor for me...”

             
She waited until Rudy had left for work before throwing on some old sweats and leaving the house early. But when she got into her battered little Gremlin, the wretched thing refused to budge. She sat there for nearly ten minutes trying to choke some life into the engine. When she realized her little car had breathed its last, she gave up, and began a long hike to the nearest bus stop.

             
Lucy huffed and puffed all the way through several blocks to the stop and sat down on the bench fanning herself. She squinted in the late morning sun suddenly wishing she’d taken enough money for a cab. Her appointment was at ten and the bus took at least two hours along its route or so Tia used to tell her. She sighed and checked her watch.

             
Finally, the bus in a malodorous cloud of gaseous fumes came roaring down the street and jerked to a stop. Lucy climbed on and chucked her coins down the chute and sat down trying not to think of what lay ahead.

             
Two hours later and after thirty-odd stops and four transfers, the bus dropped her off at the hospital. She climbed off the bus drained and sick and made the slow trek up the drive, stopping several times to catch her breath. Lucy hesitated at the familiar entrance. She could have gone to the free clinic downtown, but she needed to clean out her locker and pick up her final check. It was also an opportunity to say goodbye to Diane and see Dr. Ugarte. If there was anyone she wanted overseeing her first trimester, it was she.

             
She finally pushed on the automatic door and welcomed the icy gush of air that soothed her heated skin. Gathering her wits, she walked over to the vending machines and bought water and some cheese crackers. Not exactly a nutritious beginning to the day, but it served its purpose of quelling her rebellious stomach. Thus fortified, Lucy took the elevators to obstetrics and hoped no one recognized her.

             
She went to admissions, gave her name, and was told to wait. Glancing around at the muted pinks and greens, she was a little surprised at the number of empty chairs. But then, it was early in the day. Shaking her head, she took a magazine and leafed through it numbly, hardly aware of the television that droned on in the background.

             
CNN was suddenly waxing lyrically about Vivian and Dean, and Lucy’s ears prickled in curiosity at the entertainment segment. She looked up to see a recent awards’ show where Vivian resplendent in a gold Marchesa gown, paraded her latest toy-boy up and down the red carpet. Dean looked ridiculous preening stupidly in an Armani suit before the cameras. Lucy suddenly wished an earthquake had taken out the whole auditorium.

             
Muttering under her breath, she forced herself to look away and continued to read an article about global warming until her name was called. “Ms. Havilland? The doctor will see you now.”

             
She stood up relieved and was ushered in by a smiling Dr. Ugarte. “Lucy,” she greeted her warmly, “it’s so good to see you!” She motioned Lucy to sit down and did the same. “So, what brings you here today?

             
“You know exactly what brings me here today,” Lucy replied in a strained voice and watched the doctor’s lovely brow arch in surprise.

             
“How far along are you?”

             
Lucy shrugged. “Six weeks, I think,” she said uncertainly.

             
“You’re not sure?”

             
Lucy let out a long tired sigh. “It’s a long story.”

             
Dr. Ugarte smiled reassuringly and stood. “Well, let’s see for ourselves, shall we?” She motioned for Lucy to follow her into the examining room.

             
An hour and a half later, Lucy reemerged with a sonogram picture of her seven week-old fetus, a bottle of prenatal vitamins, and a stern warning to take it easy which was easier said than done.             

             
Checking her watch, she took the elevator down to the third floor where Diane said she’d meet her after her appointment. The hospital was crowded with the usual comings and goings of the lunchtime rush, and Lucy headed for the waiting area near the ER and promptly collapsed into a chair. She leaned her head back, studying the various patterns on the mottled ceiling and was about to nod off when she heard a familiar voice calling her name. “Lucy!”

             
Lucy smiled and waved Diane over. “You’re late!” she told her, relieved to see a friendly face. “Did you get everything?” she asked fretfully.

             
“And hello yourself!” Diane grinned and handed over Lucy’s shoulder bag. “Where the hell have you been? Going off and leaving without a by your leave! You had us all worried sick!”

             
Lucy smiled ruefully. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

             
Diane’s hazel eyes took in her friend’s weary appearance. Lucy had lost a great deal of weight since she’d last seen her. She was sporting a nasty pallor and looked like she hadn’t slept in days judging by the dark circles rimming the enormous eyes. “You look like shit,” she told her bluntly.

             
“Thanks,” Lucy said dryly, and placed her vitamins and sonogram picture into the bag.

             
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Diane said quickly. “What’s happened?”

             
“Nothing that the whole world doesn’t know already.”

             
“I mean it, what’s happened? You didn’t see Yvonne for the hell of it!”

     Lucy grimaced and sat back down, her legs suddenly unable to bear her slight weight.

              “Well, let’s see...” she started, counting off on her fingers. “I ran off to Vegas, got married, got separated, and now I’m preggers!”

             
“Stop kidding!” Diane laughed uneasily. “You’re not… serious?”

             
“I’m very serious,” Lucy replied quietly. ‘I wish I wasn’t, but there it is.”             

             
They both sat in uneasy silence as Diane took in all this new information. ‘Have you had lunch?”  As Lucy shook her head, she took her hand and said, “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and tell you all about what you’ve missed.”

             
“I don’t know,” Lucy began reluctantly, “if I want what’s on the menu.”

             
Diane laughed as they made their way to the elevators. “Don’t worry,” she said with an assuring smile. “It’s cheeseburger Wednesday!”

             
“Ugh!” Lucy groaned, and tried not to toss her cookies as the elevator dipped sharply to the first floor.

             
They took their lunch outside to the small courtyard and sat down in the white metal bistro chairs. “He’s been prancing around here like a damned peacock,” Diane told her in between bites of tuna salad on rye. Lucy had settled for tomato soup and grilled cheese. “We’re getting pretty sick of him and so is Reinhardt,” she said, referring to the chief resident. “He practically handed him his ass in front of everybody the other night!”

             
“Really...?”

             
“Yep,” Diane said, sipping on her raspberry tea. “There’s no way they’re gonna give him the fellowship now.”

             
“Since when was he interested?”

             
Since
she
heard about it and practically shoved him into the shark tank,” Diane gleefully reported and eyed Lucy dubiously. “Where have you been at? Under a rock?”