His Baby Girl by Rosa Mink
Chapter 10
Mel
My hands shake as I move into the lobby of the rehab clinic. I know that Clint put me on the approved list to see Jenna, but I haven’t since that morning, and now, a bit of that panic is flowing through my veins again. All thanks to a story on the news.
I was floored when I got up, Clint having left cinnamon rolls for me as I slept in a bit. I’ve been sleepier lately for some reason and it was nice not to get up and go first thing today. I was watching the eight o’clock local news when they put up a photo of the man that’d caused me to blackout that day, saying the police were searching for him. An anonymous tip had them searching his house where they found two girls, one thirteen the other fourteen locked in the basement, both suffering from drug withdrawal symptoms.
They were able to tell the police that that sick bastard had taken them and kept them locked up, the older one for nearly a year while he’d just taken the younger one a couple months ago. Both were foster kids with histories of running away and the police hadn’t bothered searching too hard to find them. Now, knowing that could have been me, anxiety is hitting hard, making it a struggle to do this.
Clint told me last night about his latest visit with Jenna and it’d made me more determined to come talk to her myself today. I don’t want him losing her. I can see how hard it is for him to take the hard stance on this, and if there’s any way to keep them from falling apart, I’m willing to try. The only thing I won’t do is leave him.
A nurse takes me to a room with tables and slightly comfier than regular chairs. They’re padded compared to the chairs from the school cafeteria, the last place I was that felt somewhat like this, and I settle in to wait for Jenna.
“Oh look, it’s the slut,” Jenna states, taking the seat across from me.
I glance towards the front and can see the nurse moving back to a desk, a security guard standing near the doors leading to the exit. Beyond that, we’re alone. “Jenna…”
“Why are you here? Come to gloat now that you’ve poisoned my father against me?”
“I’m here because we used to be friends. You used to like me, stood up for me, had my back,” I reply, doing my best to keep my tone even. “What did I do to you that made you hate me; made you want to hurt me the way you did?”
“I pitied you. Stupid, pathetic Melanie, afraid of her own shadow but willing to do anything to have a friend. Well, almost anything, until my father came into the picture that is,” she sneers forcing me to drag in a deep breath.
“I didn’t plan for what happened with Clint. I had a crush on him for a few months, but I never tried anything to get his attention. The only reason we’re together now, is because of you,” I state making her eyes narrow. “You lied to me, tricking me to that place, intending to what? Make me pay for Kyle asking me out? I don’t care if he did it because they were trying to win a bet or anything. I only said yes to shut the rest of you up about dating someone. If you’d just told me that you liked him, I would have said no to that first date. But you didn’t. Even when I told you that I hadn’t said yes yet, you didn’t say that you liked him, you told me to say yes to him.
“After I broke up with him, if you’d said you wanted to go out with him, I would have given my blessings. I might have warned you that he’s an asshole that only wants to be the center of attention and fuck you, but I wouldn’t have cared. What you did to me…do you not get how bad that could have turned out?” I add staring her down. “You know what I went through, and you purposely used it to hurt me, for what? I didn’t betray you with Kyle. And the crap about not getting high with you? Don’t even try that shit with me, Jenna.”
“You wouldn’t even smoke pot, you’d barely take a damn drink. You act like you’re such an innocent thing, but you’ll stab me in the back and fuck my father?” she argues, pouting like a child and it’s infuriating.
“I have asthma and you know it,” I hiss at her. “Smoking of any king is highly discouraged especially when I’m sensitive to allergens. There’s no telling what they may have sprayed on even marijuana, let alone what they might have cut other drugs with. I’m not about to destroy my lungs and kill myself for some stupid high. I saw what drugs did to my mother and I won’t be like her—ever. Do you get why your dad put you here?” I add when her jaw tightens at the word mother.
“I’m not an addict. So-what if I like to get high now and then. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Oh, it’s a big deal. It’s a big deal to him because he doesn’t want to see you end up like your mother. Since you wouldn’t listen to him long enough for him to explain, here’s a little shortened version of it. She got out of rehab for god only knows the time, went and scored heroin and proceeded to find your father, and tried to kill him when he wouldn’t let her near you until she proved she could stay sober that time.” I grab Jenna’s wrist when she begins to stand, holding it tight. “She didn’t just up and leave you. He told you that because he didn’t want you to know that she cared more about getting high than being there for you, than being in your life. She died of an overdose after police tackled her, after she emptied an entire gun’s magazine aimed at your father.”
“You’re lying. My dad doesn’t give a shit about me. He just wanted me out of the way so he could fuck you and you lapped it up, didn’t you? A free ride for the rest of your life, who cares if it means having to fuck a man old enough to be your father.”
“If you don’t believe me, ask for the police file. It contains the medical examiner’s cause of death with it, but don’t you ever think Clint doesn’t love you, doesn’t want what’s best for you. He just won’t sit back and watch you kill yourself the way your mother did.” I drag in a deep breath, meeting her gaze directly and add, “And as for what’s between him and I, the last thing it is is a free ride. I wanted him more than my own breath that night. I thought if nothing else, I could have that one night with him, feel alive for once. The last thing I expected was to fall in love with him and have him love me back, but I won’t give him up—not now.
“He’s spent the last eighteen years putting you first and this is how you repay him? He’s done nothing but give you anything you could possibly want or need and yet, you throw it all back in his face because he won’t let you go kill yourself with drugs. Because when he finally has someone to love him, you won’t accept it, won’t let him be happy.” I shake my head at her as I push my chair back, getting up to leave. “I came here hoping that somehow I could make it better for him, but it’s obvious you don’t care about anyone but yourself. So, good luck. Who knows, maybe you can get my old job at the truck stop and my room at the motel.”
I’m at the doors when Jenna says loudly, “She tried to sell me drugs. She’s the one that was selling them to me. They’re in her bag.”
The security guard steps forward two others rushing around a corner, one grabbing my arm before I can protest. I jerk backwards, trying to get away from him as he looms over me. The panic nearly topples me, and I can feel my chest tightening with the anxiety attack. It’s deep as the man pulls my arms behind me, his cologne is heavy with a spicy undertone, making my airway restricts, starting to close off and I wheeze.
“Stop,” a deeper voice says as I struggle to get loose. The asthma attack makes the panic deepen. It’s like drowning, my lungs filling but I can’t get anything out. “Let her go, now.”
The hold drops and I reach for my bag, at my hip, gasping out as the guard grabs it, “In…ha…”
“Give that to me,” the new person states, the coat he’s wearing different from the scrubs of the nurses and the uniforms of the guards. Things grow hazy and I start to drop. The hands that grab make me try to scream but I have no air to get it out.
“Breathe,” the voice tells me, and I can feel the inhaler press against my lips. “That’s it, and another.”
The air comes out after the second puff, letting me drag it in and out easier, but my heart races still, my hands shaking as tears slip from my closed eyes. Something cool hits my forehead, then against my lips pulling my eyes open.
“It’s okay, just take nice deep breaths, in and out, nice and easy,” the doctor says. His fingers press against my neck, and I can’t stop the reaction as I jerk away from the unexpected touch. “It’s okay,” he says again before turning to the others. “Give her some space and get me some water.”
I’m still panting, feeling like I can’t breathe although the air isn’t trapped in my lungs any longer. Sweat drips off my forehead, my arms shaking as I try to wrap them around my legs.
“Drink, just take a drink,” he tells me, lifting the small bottle to my lips.
The wetness hits my tongue and I swallow, draining the entire bottle as the shakes subside. My eyes close and lean my head back against the wall as my breathing slows.
“I need to check your pulse,” the man says, and I lift my head back up, my eyes opening seeing him still kneeling next to me. “Is that okay?”
I nod, thankful when he takes my wrist rather than touching my neck again.
“Alright, it’s still elevated but not overly so, I’m Dr. Patricks. Do you know what just happened?” he asks me, and I glance towards the guards then onto Jenna who’s standing in the doorway just staring at me.
“Asthma attack, I can’t handle heavy colognes,” I state, and the guard takes a step further back from us. “The rest…god I haven’t had a panic attack that bad in over a year.”
“I’d like to listen to your lungs for a moment just to make sure the inhaler worked entirely,” he adds, and I give in, letting him listen. “Okay, I’m going to send you over to the ER to be looked at,” he states, stopping me when I start to argue. “We have to for liability reasons. If we let you walk out that door and you collapse, it’s on us.”
“I’ll go just…no ambulance.” From the look on his face, I know there’s no arguing with him on it. If I try to protest, I’m sure he’ll call someone, and I don’t want Clint to know what happened—how it happened.
“Deal,” he says before turning towards the other nurse. “Pam, call over to the ER and tell them that Danielle will be bringing in…”
“Melanie Wilson.” He nods as I give them my name, accepting his help up off the floor.
“Bringing in Melanie and that all costs of the visit should be billed to us. Then see that Miss Lowell is taken back to her room. As of now, she’s on a forty-eight-hour isolation protocol,” he adds making Jenna gasp.
“You can’t do that. I’m getting out here at midnight when I’m freaking eighteen!” she shouts.
“I have full authority to detain and isolate anyone that I deem to be a threat. You, Miss Lowell, are hereby deemed as such and unless I see improvement in the next forty-eight hours, I can and will extend it as I see fit,” Dr. Patricks states and one of the guards steps up next to her as the other nurse hangs up the phone.
“They’ll be expecting her,” she says before taking a set of keys out of a desk, motioning to the guard to bring Jenna.
Dr. Patricks walks me outside with Nurse Danielle, stopping me at a car with a badge with the clinic’s name on the windshield. It’s small, not overly noticeable which I’m thankful for. Last thing I need is for someone to see me in a car from the rehab clinic pulling up to the ER.
“I presume that Miss Lowell is well aware of your condition?” he asks me as his hand pauses on the doorhandle.
“Yes, she knows…my mother was involved with a drug dealer, an…”
“I understand, your reactions to the holds already told me that there was abuse in your background. If you would like to formally file a complaint against her, please give me a call,” he adds, handing over his card before I get into the car and head to the ER.
“You don’t have to stay,” I tell the nurse when I’m in a room almost immediately.
“I’ll stay until I know everything’s okay,” Danielle replies, her hand resting on my shoulder for a moment.
The ER doctor checks me over, his face showing that I’m not going to just get up from the bed and walk out the door now. He settles the stethoscope back over his shoulders and stares at me hard. “There’s a crackling in your lungs I don’t like, especially not if you used a rescue inhaler less than an hour ago. Your blood pressure is elevated along with your heart rate. The heart rate I could contribute to a panic attack but not so with the blood pressure. I’d like to run some blood work and get a chest x-ray. Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
The question hits hard and I realize it’s been five weeks since I moved in with Clint. Five weeks and not one period. I rack my brain trying to remember the last time I had my period. It was the week before graduation, the party was the week after it. I should have had my period three weeks ago, and I’ve never been late.
“I…yeah, there’s a chance,” I state resting my head back onto the bed in shock.
“A high one by your reaction,” Dr. Tyler says, and I nod. “Alright, run a blood panel first, in the meantime I’ll order the chest x-ray and we’ll see what’s going on.”
I let out a little sigh when he leaves before turning to Danielle. “I’m fine, you should get back.”
“Uh, not when it’s just getting good,” she says with a grin. “So, what’s your boo like?”
I let out a little laugh that causes a coughing fit and I cough hard, until she gets me a drink of water. That same exhaustion I’ve felt the last two weeks hits and I lay back against the pillow further. “He’s amazing but it’s complicated.”
“How? Come on girl, give me the dish. I love good drama after being at the clinic all day.”
“He’s…he’s Jenna’s father,” I admit, making her jaw drop slightly. “Jenna and I were best friends and just before the beginning of this last school year, I got this huge crush on him. It didn’t go anywhere but he never even looked at me wrong. There was this party that Jenna said she’d meet me at but then the party got really wild, and I couldn’t deal with it. I had no ride, no money, and no way home. I called her but Clint answered, and he came to get me. When he learnt that I was living in a pretty ratty motel, he told me I could stay with them and took me home. Jenna didn’t come home that night and with my crush and some really hot sexual chemistry…”
“You did the deed with daddy, and she found out,” Danielle says, and I nod. “But you and he are still together, still going strong?”
“Yeah, I fell in love with him, and he loves me too, it’s just Jenna…her mother was an addict. She died of an overdose. He doesn’t want to watch her go down the same path. I hoped that if we talked it might change her opinion, but…clearly, I was wrong. Clint told Jenna that if she signed herself out on her birthday, she wasn’t allowed back in the house. If I’m pregnant…”
“No way is he going to let Jenna get close enough to hurt you or the baby. That’s a good thing. We see it all day long, you can’t force an addict to stop, to admit they have a problem. They have to accept it and unfortunately, Jenna won’t. Won’t accept that she might actually need help. Who knows, maybe the isolation protocol will help, and if not that, maybe the news that you’re having her dad’s baby just might.”
“Or she’ll try to kill me next,” I muse, laughing a hint until the coughing starts again.
“Well, that’s what I was afraid of,” Dr. Tyler says coming back into the room with a nurse. She gets me a tissue as I cough up some mucus before getting another drink to soothe my throat. “Shelia, have them run a gram stain on that while we wait for the chest x-ray,” he adds to the nurse who takes the tissue and leaves again. He glances towards Danielle, and I nod, “Your blood test came back positive. You are pregnant. With how your lungs sounded and now the coughing and spitting up mucus it sounds like…”
“Pneumonia, it’s not my first go around with it,” I return when he nods. “The x-ray is okay to do still?”
“Yes, your abdomen will be covered for it which will limit any potential exposure. X-rays are not recommended in mass quantities during pregnancy, but I would highly recommend we get one to see how affected your lungs are.”
“Okay,” I agree, letting him move out once more while I turn to Danielle. “This has nothing to do with what happened at the clinic so, go on, I’ll be fine. I took the bus to the clinic, and I’ll call Clint, have him come meet me.”
“Alright, congratulations mama, take care of yourself,” she says with a hug, and I grab my cell, making short work of the call. It goes straight to voicemail but it’s almost easier that way.
“Hey it’s me. I don’t want you to worry, I’m fine, but I’m at the ER. I had an asthma attack and couldn’t quite catch my breath, so I came in. They think it’s pneumonia but aren’t positive. I’m in room 112 if you get done before I do. If not, I’ll call you back and let you know when I get home. I love you.”
The x-ray doesn’t take too long and I’m in the room again when the doctor returns. “Verdict?”
“It’s pneumonia. Not as bad as I’d first thought but I would like to start you on IV antibiotics and keep you here for a few days to get it taken care of…”
I shake my head no as my chest tightens, my breathing picking up, feeling nauseous suddenly. I sit up further holding my chest when it hurts, sweat dotting my skin.
“Mel? Baby, what’s wrong?” Clint says, his hands cupping my face bringing my gaze to his. I let out a little gasp, the pain in my chest fading as his hands slip back around to hold my neck. The blood pounding through my ears fades and I drop my head against his chest, breathing in the freshness of his skin. My hands grab tight to his shirt not wanting to ever let him go.
“Shh, it’s okay, daddy’s here, baby girl,” he whispers, and I know now, it will be.
