Page 21 of Damaged Billionaire Daddy (The Lanes Series #1)

Chapter twenty

Kandis, two weeks later

I held my hair at the nape of my neck while I barfed up breakfast and yesterday’s dinner. It had been nearly two weeks since I spent the weekend in the mountains with Richard. I’d been sick nearly every day since.

Had I caught something? I wondered to myself. We went to that stupid wedding where there was a close-packed crowd of people. We’d romped in the snow and eaten candy made from maple syrup poured on that snow. Could Richie have some sort of venereal disease?

I rocked back on my toes, enjoying a moment of respite. Blueberry pancakes tasted great going down, but vile coming back up.

The mere thought had me leaning over the porcelain bowl, vomiting up clear fluid. I had completely emptied my system.

There came a knock on the door. “Are you alright in there?” Mimi called.

“I’m all right,” I replied. Then a bout of retching gave lie to my answer, as I leaned back over the bowl.

“Open this door, young lady,” my grandmother said in her best no-nonsense voice. I knew there was no point in arguing. I wouldn’t be able to stay in the bathroom all day.

I pulled myself up, splashed water on my face, grabbed a towel, and opened the door. I was patting my face dry when I looked out.

Mimi, my dear sweet grandmother, was standing in the hall, her arms folded. “You and I are going to Urgent Care this morning,” she said. “We are not going to mess around trying to get a doctor appointment.”

“But Mimi,” I protested, “What about insurance?”

“Piffle!” she snorted. “We’ve got enough in the bank for a measly doctor visit. Go get dressed, unless you fancy going like that.”

I was wearing a pair of jogging shorts that had seen better days, and one of Pops worn-out t-shirts. My hair was uncombed, and I’m pretty sure I’d gotten some of my stomach contents on, well, all of me. I wanted to get back in bed and not move.

“Go on,” Mimi said. “I’ve got some ginger ale in the kitchen. You are bound to be dehydrated at the very least.”

I went. Arguing with Mimi when she had put on her “Dr. Grandmom” hat was useless. I managed to find some clean underwear, a pair of Bermuda shorts, and a gosh-awful Hawaiian print shirt. I’d not felt well enough to do laundry since coming back from the mountains.

I managed to drag a brush through the top part of my curls and bundled the rest of my hair into a knot at the nape of my neck using the last, lonely hair-tie in my top drawer.

The drawer was a mess. Mimi had always said you could tell a lot about a person by their top dresser drawer. Mine said that my life was falling apart.

The ginger ale helped, but we had to pull over twice on the way to the urgent care unit. When we got there, an intake worker took one look at me, and handed the paperwork to Mimi. Of course, right then, I had to bolt for the bathroom that fortunately had a neon sign over it.

That meant that they immediately hustled us into a waiting room and handed me a barf basin. Mimi filled out the paperwork, including some details that I would rather have not shared with my grandmother, like “When was the last time you had sex?”

Mimi looked at the clipboard, read back through the symptoms, and said, “Hmmm.” She then stuck the clipboard into the holder outside the room, just as the attendant had asked.

“What’s hmmm supposed to mean?” I asked her.

“I’d rather not practice medicine without a license,” she said primly.

So, then I had blood drawn, barfed in the basin, peed in a bedpan for the nurse, and received a cup of ice chips as a reward.

“Suck on those,” the nurse said. “You’re dehydrated. I had a heck of a time finding a vein. The moisture will feel good in your mouth, and maybe it will stay down.”

It did. And I dozed for a little while. Someone covered me up with a blanket, there was a murmur of voices, and I dozed some more.

Then the doctor came bustling in. She was a middle aged-woman, with a round, cheerful face and a rounded, once athletic body. “I would have been here sooner,” she said. “But I just delivered a baby. It makes me feel good to bring new life into the world.”

She took the folder out of its hiding place in the hallway. “Now, what do we have here?” She read through it, then chuckled softly. It was a warm comforting sound. It seemed I was not going to die.

“Well, my dear,” she said. “I have good news, and then I have news that will require you to make some decisions. First off, your condition is not venereal, nor do you have Covid or one of those new flu bugs that are going around. Your condition is quite natural and will clear up in about nine months, give or take a week or two.”

Mimi began to laugh. “I thought so.” I must have looked puzzled, because she added, “Kandy, you are about to give me a great grandchild.”

“I’m . . . pregnant?” I asked. The symptoms and the timing certainly fit.

“Yes, indeed,” the jovial little doctor said. “You tested positive. From your personal condition, I would say you should have a healthy child. But,” and here she sobered, “my dear, I did notice that you are not married. With all the new laws, you have a very short time in which to make a decision.”

I stared at her for a minute. Then I realized what she was asking.

“I’ll keep it, of course!” I exclaimed. After all, I might hate Richard for what he was trying to do to my grandparents, but this baby might be the last thing I would have from him.

I wouldn’t even curse him for unprotected sex, nor flagellate myself for lack of birth control.

“She will have support from me and her grandfather,” Mimi said. “We will welcome another child in the family.”

“That is excellent,” the little doctor said.

“If you want me to continue on as your physician, I’ll look forward to delivering your baby a few months from now.

Meanwhile, we’ll get you started on some prenatal vitamins and a diet that should help calm down your nausea.

I prefer not to give meds for pregnancy nausea. ”

I walked out of the urgent care office in a daze. Mimi carried the paperwork and my prescriptions. I

t seemed as if I could look forward to a diet of saltine crackers, ginger ale and vegetable broth for another week or so.

The doctor had babbled about body balance changes, hormones, and inner ear, but I was mostly trying to process the news.

“You knew?” I asked.

“Well, let’s say I suspected,” Mimi said. “I’ve seen these symptoms before.”

“Oh.” I tried to digest this information. “You aren’t mad at me?”

“Oh, sweetie,” Mimi said, “I’d have been mad at you if you decided not to keep your baby. Or maybe I wouldn’t. It’s a hard world and having a tiny life to care for doesn’t make it easier.”

I thought about that some more. Then I remembered something that I should have checked on and would have if I’d not been so sick. “Have you heard from Mom?”

“Yes, darlin’ girl.” Mimi paused as she threaded her way through a traffic merge.

“She’s been sick. It was a good thing you called George.

She had pneumonia, so he was able to get her into the hospital.

She’s in hospice care now, and he’s trying to get legal guardianship based on her past history.

As her next of kin, you can help with that. ”

A wave of guilt broke over me. “She was really sick? And I just blew her off and called Uncle George. I’m a terrible daughter. What if I’m a horrible mother?”

“Oh, sweety,” Mimi said. “What else could you have done? You didn’t know she was going to call, and you were way up in the mountains in a snowstorm. George called us not long after she was admitted. I was going to tell you, but you’ve been so sick, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Next time, bother me,” I said, trying not to snap at Mimi. My mother’s behavior which no doubt led to her illness wasn’t my grandmother’s fault. I was glad I’d at least had the presence of mind to call Uncle George.

When we pulled into the driveway, the last person on earth I expected to see was waiting by the front door. “What’s Justin doing here?” I burst out.

“I called him,” Mimi said. “Now, please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t know whether you’d had relations or not, and I didn’t want to mess up any opportunities for you.”

“Justin is not an opportunity,” I said firmly. “We didn’t …. I mean, he’s definitely not . . .”

“Oh, I get that now,” Mimi said, “After helping you fill out your paperwork. But he is here, and you should at least talk to him.”

“Oh, I’ll talk to him, all right,” I seethed. “Then he can go right back to wherever he came from. He wasn’t faithful to me before, and I don’t see him being so afterward.”

“It is your life, Kandis,” Mimi said. “Pops and I will support whatever you want to do.” She pulled into the driveway and shut off the car.

I got out, walked around the car and up the path to the front door. “What the fuck to you want?” I demanded, glaring at Justin.

He held up his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t yell at me. I, uh, heard you were sick. I was worried, so I came to see if you were all right.”

“Well, I’m not sick,” I said. “I’m perfectly healthy. So, what do you want?”

“Kandy, I wanted to say I’m awful sorry for what happened. I didn’t mean for it to. I tried to find you to explain, but you were already gone.” He swallowed hard and looked at me pleadingly. “I miss you.”

“You should have thought about that before you started trading tongue with Cali and letting her roll around all over you in my bed, in our house! I was saving myself for you, you bastard!”

“I know,” he said. “I know, and I should have been. But, Kandy, you don’t know what it’s like for a guy.”

“Having never been a guy, I don’t,” I retorted. “But I do know what it is like for a woman. I could have had dozens of guys, but I didn’t. And Justin, with my best friend? Really?”

He gave a nervous little giggle. “But they were all your best friends, Kandy. And all so darned cute. It was hard to choose among you who was the cutest.”

“You know,” I said, “I’ve heard some pretty lame excuses. But that has got to be about the lamest one ever. If you can’t make up your mind today, then I don’t see you keeping it in your pants after we were married.”

He looked miserable. “Please, Kandy. Just one more chance. I’ll be faithful. I promise.”

I felt myself weakening just a little. This little baby bean I carried inside of me deserved a father. But did they deserve a life based on deceit and covering up? I’d seen some of those, and mostly they didn’t turn out well.

“No, Justin,” I said. “Done is done. You made your choice, and you are stuck with it.”