64 - Happy Freakin' New Year

“Hey,” Sheridan greeted him with a brief, distracted kiss, leaving the door open in an unspoken invitation to follow behind her as she disappeared back into her apartment.  Knitting his eyebrows with curiosity, Jon ducked his head around the door and followed it with his body, only to find her head buried in the coat closet.

Well, good to know she’s missed you after almost a week apart.

All hell had broken loose after New Year’s, in a manner of speaking.  Chaos erupted in both of their personal lives and demanded their individual attention, thereby keeping them in their own worlds for much of the week. 

Sheridan’s younger niece, Ashley, had suffered an acute case of appendicitis that required surgery.  Doing the only thing she knew to do, Sheridan had stepped in to help out.  That had primarily consisted of feeding Mandi and keeping her out of trouble while Mitch worked and Riley was at the hospital. And monitor her phone calls, according to Jesse.  She was always asking Mandi who she was on the phone with, which apparently didn’t endear her to either teenager’s heart.

His world had tipped back and forth a bit with both work and family.  He’d been approached for a movie soundtrack that looked promising, so he’d been talking to his agent and looking over the contracts on that.  Dorothea had suddenly found some kind of life and asked Jon to ferry Romeo to his bi-weekly counseling appointment and keep both younger boys for the night.  Apparently she had a parent activity board meeting at school and plans to go out after – he assumed with the other mothers. 

The good news was that Dr. Rennicke was pleased  Romeo had survived the holidays without seeming any worse for the wear.  In fact, she said he seemed more clear-minded and content than she had previously seen him.  Jon had no idea why, but he would take what he could get.

And you should get what the hell is going on with your girlfriend.

Pushing the door closed behind him, he noted that she was wearing one of her favored  at-home sweat suits, with the zippered hoodie tops.  This one was black, and her bright yellow socks stood out against it like a beacon of light on a dark ocean.  Her hair was up in a ponytail that was trailing near her waist as she stretched to retrieve a bag from the top shelf. 

All of this would’ve been mildly interesting on any other day.  Today – Jon checked his watch – tonight, this was fucking weird.  They were supposed to meet David and his wife, Lexi, for dinner within the hour. 

“Uh…  What are you doing?”

Her words were muffled as she dug through the bag.

“Say again?”

She lifted her face, turning deliberately toward him and speaking slowly, irritated that he’d reverted to cro magnum man, who wasn’t smart enough to understand multisyllabic words.  “I know I bought a new pair of earrings last week at Macys.  I was with Suzy and Madison the day after Christmas.  They’re dangly gold hoops, and I can’t find the damn things.”

“Okay…”  This was one of those woman things that defied testosterone logic.  The jewelry box on her dresser had a bunch of earrings in it.  Couldn’t she find another pair so they could get this show on the road?  “Can’t you wear another pair to dinner?”

“I guess I can.” She tossed the bag back into the top of the closet with a sigh and swept a wear palm over her head to smooth the stray hair from her face as she turned to him, finally ready to offer her full attention.   Her full attention included the head-to-toe inspection of his dark slacks and shirt, wool dress coat and red scarf.  Her follow-up question expressed sheer confusion.  “Why are you so dressed up for Chinese take-out?”

Well that explains why she’s not ready. 

“I guess you forgot dinner with Dave and his wife?” he inquired dryly, slipping his coat off and folding it over the back of a dining chair. 

“No, I did not forget.”  Her arms folded at her waist and lifted tired eyes to his.  “Dinner with Dave is Saturday.  Today is Friday and we’re supposed to be staying in.”

Shaking his head with a rueful smile, he hooked wrist around her waist and nudged Sheridan into the circle of his arms.  This was not going to make her happy.  “No, Kitten.  Dave is Friday.  Old folks at home is Saturday.  Remember?  Dave was going to be in the city doing business stuff?”

“Fuck.”

“You think we can and still be at the restaurant by seven?”  Knowing good and damn well it was going to get him smacked, he was a bit surprised when she just dropped her forehead onto his shoulder with a bone-rattling sigh.

“I don’t think I can brush my hair and still be at the restaurant by seven.”

“Hey.”  He jiggled his shoulder to gently shake her off so that he could give her face a closer inspection.  The color in her face was almost non-existent except for smudgy dark shadows beneath her eyes.  Her cheek bones were more pronounced than usual, making her cheeks look hollowed out and gaunt.  “Are you okay?  You look like you’ve lost weight.”

“I’m fine.  This week has been rough, is all.  My stupid sinuses are still screwed up and the drainage is making me nauseous and I just don’t feel well.”

“Why haven’t you been back to the doctor?”

She rolled her eyes.  “And when would I have done that?  Between trips to the hospital, grocery store, and Riley’s house?  Or maybe in between laundry, cooking and brow-beating to do homework?  I’m fine and I’ll go back for more antibiotics on Monday or Tuesday.”

Fine wasn’t a word he would use to describe her right now.  She never said ‘fuck’ just for fun.  She had to be totally irate or lost in the throes of passion for his favorite swear word to cross her lips.  A night in might not be such a bad idea. 

“You want me to reschedule with Dave?”

Hope and relief bloomed in the emerald green depths of her eyes.  “I’d hate to cancel at the last minute, but I’d also hate to be late.  What do you think?  He’s your friend.  Will he be offended?”

“Hell, no,” Jon snorted and then stole a brief kiss.  “Offended is not in his extensive egg-head dictionary.  I’ll run back to my place to get some jeans and a sweatshirt and, on the way, I’ll call Dave for a rain check.  Why don’t you call and order dinner while I’m gone?”

He’d put Dave Bryan off five days a week to keep Sheridan looking at him like she was right now.  You’d think he just hung the moon and the stars from the adoration shining up at him.

“That sounds absolutely wonderful.  But do you care if we get Italian instead of Chinese?  I think I’m in the mood for ziti.”

❧❧❧

“Suzy, I know,” Sheridan huffed, cramming the magazine into her bag as she walked into the professional building where her doctor had his offices.  “But there was nothing else for me to do.  Bridget couldn’t pull the article.  I told you that.”

“Yes, but you didn’t tell your boyfriend that.  Remember him?  The one who doesn’t want you publishing his bedroom exploits?”

Do you know how much I regret having that conversation with you?

It had been right after New Year’s and only a day after Ashley’s emergency appendectomy.  Sheridan was out of her mind at the time, both with fatigue and surrogate motherhood.  Mandi was doing an admirable job of reinforcing Sheridan’s decision to not have children, proving beyond a doubt that mothering wasn’t in her blood.

In the midst of it all, Suzy had called to thank her for keeping Madison on New Year’s Eve and tell her how much the little girl had enjoyed the party.  Assuring her it had been a pleasure, Sheridan tried to ease off the phone, but Suzanne had been thoughtful enough to ask about her Cosmo article.  Not being lucid enough to use her mental filter, Sheridan confided Jon’s reservations, his desire to have the article pulled, and the whole nine yards. 

“I remember quite plainly, thank you very much, but we have barely seen each other since I found out.  My life’s also been a little crazy lately, as you may recall.  When Jon and I manage to hook up long enough to talk, all I’ve wanted to do is find out how he’s doing and tell him that I love him.”

“Which is still incredibly sweet,” her friend remarked.  “I never thought you’d find love outside of a business deal, but you did.  That tickles me to death, you know – which is why I don’t want you to screw it up by not telling him before he finds out on his own.”

Okay, so maybe she should have told him that Bridget couldn’t get the article pulled, but he was going to roll his eyes, act smug and say it was going to bite them in the ass.  At least Bridget had managed to get Sheridan’s real name replaced on the byline.  The brilliant author of this erotica was Stormy Kingston, and Sheridan considered  that a stroke of clever genius on her part.  How better to give a silent nod to their Jamaican adventure than with a weather-related first name and the capital of Jamaica as the last?

“Suzanne.  I’m going to tell him.  It’s not exactly like he religiously reads Cosmo and was waiting for the Valentine edition to hit the newsstands.  I can go by his place tonight.  This is so not a big deal.”

She stepped from the empty elevator into the receptionist’s lobby on the fifth floor.  Looking around she saw that it was already crowded, even at ten in the morning.   A lot of patients was the sign of a good medical practice, she supposed, but she disliked the crowds in the waiting room.  Particularly when trying to conduct a semi-private phone call.

Time to wrap this conversation up.

“Suze, I have to go,” she said quietly, pausing by the wall to maintain some distance from the sea of sickly folk.  “I at the doctor’s office now and can’t talk.”

“Doctor?  Are you sick again?”

“Not again.  Still.  I’ll call you later, okay?  Maybe we can do lunch this afternoon if I get out of here in time.”

Not likely, but it was a nice thought. 

“Okay.  Call me when you’re finished, but if the timing doesn’t work out please remember…  Tell Jon.”

Sighing, she placated her friend with a dutiful  “I will.  You’re making too big of a deal out of this, but I will tell him.”

❧❧❧

Two hours had passed since that phone call ended, and Sheridan was reaching the height of her pique.  The nurse had escorted her to the exam room an hour ago and, to her surprise, it was only about five minutes before Dr. Waverly appeared.  After explaining that the antibiotics he had prescribed last time were completely ineffective, she had been subjected to the usual bout of poking, prodding and peering. 

It was to be expected and she naturally assumed that would be the end of her appointment.  She would walk out the door with a magical prescription in her hand, go to the pharmacy and move on with her day.    

Not so. 

Commenting that her sinuses didn’t appear to be the problem, he wanted to do a  quick panel of blood work.  His rationale included testing for mononucleosis or an elevated white blood-cell count that might indicate another source of infection in her body. 

She got that, and had the fleeting thought that Jon wasn’t going to be thrilled with a rampant case of mono.  Then again, she wasn’t going to be thrilled with a mystery infection either.  Right now, she wasn’t thrilled at all.  Her arm had been stuck and bandaged forty-five minutes ago with no further word from anyone wearing  a stethoscope, or even ugly nurses’ shoes. 

Preparing to hop down off of the uncomfortable exam table and venture outside for her answers, Sheridan was spared the trouble by the return of her physician.  He looked… concerned.

“Sheridan,” he began slowly, pulling the rolling stool next to the exam table and regarding her somberly.  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting so long, but when I got the results from your blood work, I asked them to run it again, just to be sure.”

Her stomach hollowed out and a slow tide of nausea rolled in as an effort to refill it.  “So you found something.”

“We did,” he confirmed with a nod.  “I’ll be the first to tell you my bedside manner could use some improvement, and I might not deliver this news with the right amount of finesse.”

I don’t give a damn if you sky write it, or carve it into a stone tablet with your ink pen.  Stop stalling!

Outwardly, however, she maintained her usual composure and calmly requested, “Just tell me.”

“Alright.  You’re pregnant.”

Funny…  She’d never realized one could actually feel the blood drain from their face, but she could count every drop as it did.  It wasn’t five seconds before all of the blood rushed from her brain and into her liver for safe-keeping.  During that five seconds, as she stared blankly at Dr. Waverly, only one irrational scenario raced through her mind.

“Hi, Jon.  Remember the article you wanted me to get pulled?  Yeah, well, I couldn’t, but guess what?  I’m pregnant.”

She had a sneaking suspicion that her little article was going to end up being one of the brighter spots in his day.