Page 8 of Wedding Whitney (Alaska Blizzard #4.5)

Whitney

When I arrive at the doctor’s office on Thursday morning, I find out Dr. Morganstern is still out of town, but one of her associates has offered to fill in for her and go over the test results.

Jake was quiet on the drive, and I wish there were a way to convince him that everything is going to be okay.

No matter what the results are, I'll be fine with them.

I just want to know one way or the other.

He seems to be the one struggling, and it scares me a little. We’ve come so far together over the last nine months, and now, just a week before the wedding, with these stupid tests and my father’s meddling, it feels like everything is going off the rails.

“Mr. Carruthers. Ms. Ravenworth.” A tall, middle-aged doctor holds out his hand. “I’m Dr. Sellers. Please sit down. Dr. Morganstern is still away, so I’ve stepped in for your appointment today.”

“Thank you.” We sit in chairs across from his desk, and he opens a file. “So, I’m afraid there’s good news and bad news.”

Jake’s hand tightens around mine.

“As you may already know, many genetic disorders happen when someone has two bad copies of a gene, one from each parent. If you have only one faulty copy, you won’t have symptoms of the condition, but you’re what we call a ‘carrier.’ Your baby will be born with the disorder only if both you and your partner pass the bad gene to them.

To test if you’re a carrier of a genetic disease, we take a small sample of your blood, which we send to a lab for testing.

The tests look closely at both sets of DNA for genes that are linked to certain diseases, like cystic fibrosis, Tay-Sachs disease, spinal muscular atrophy, and many more.

Newer tests, called expanded genetic carrier screenings, can also find genes for more than four hundred other disorders, some of which are rare and have no cure. ”

“Cut to the chase, doc.” Jake’s face is a pale mask of nothingness.

“While your test results came back showing the same results as your previous tests, Ms. Ravenworth’s tests appear to be missing.”

“Missing?” I squint slightly. “Can’t you just call the lab and get duplicates?”

“I could have, had I known more than a few minutes ago that yours were somehow misplaced. I’m not sure what happened, but they’re simply not here.” He makes a helpless little gesture with his hands.

“So can someone call the lab and get verbal confirmation of whether or not I have the same gene as Jake?”

“We’d need the full report…” He goes into another description of all things genetics, and I abruptly get up.

“If you don’t have my results, then I guess there’s no point in being here,” I say.

“I do apologize.” He doesn’t seem the least bit apologetic.

“Well, thank you for wasting our time. We’re getting married in a few days and then going on our honeymoon, so it would be so much more convenient if someone could just call me with the results and we don’t have to come all the way back here.”

Jake looks like he’s going to deck the guy, but I drag him out of the office, into the elevator, and then outside, where we both just stand there in the bright sunlight, as if a little confused about what to do next.

This is turning into the most disastrous week of our relationship, and I’m not sure how to salvage it.

“Babe?” I speak softly, gazing at him worriedly.

He doesn’t reply, but merely wraps his hand around mine.

“Jake, you’re scaring me. Please talk to me.”

“I’m all right. I’m just sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? None of this is your fault.”

“If you’d fallen in love with almost anyone else, this wouldn’t be happening.”

“Stop it.” I pull away and put my hands on my hips. “I don’t care about a biological child. I’ve told you this. I’m fine with it, no matter what the results are.”

“I don’t want this for you.”

“What? A wonderful life with the man I love? Jake, please don’t say things like that…”

This can’t be happening, not so close to the wedding.

Somehow, I have to make him see I don’t care what the stupid tests say. I come from a family of womanizers, alcoholics, and heart issues—I’m more than okay not having a biological child.

“How could they have lost your results?” he demands, throwing up his hands in frustration.

“I know. I’m annoyed too.” I turn to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Look, this isn’t ideal. I know that. I wanted definitive answers too.

But when it’s all said and done, I just want you.

Our friends are all having kids, so we’re around them constantly.

We have a dog that’s so spoiled he might as well be human, and when we get ready for babies, there are millions of kids in foster care.

We will become parents, one way or another. And I’m okay with however it happens.”

He looks down into my eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Now, can we please go shopping? I need a new bikini before the honeymoon.”

His eyes darken slightly. “We’re going bikini shopping?”

“We are.”

“I’m in.”

“Are you sure?” I tease.

“I’m very, very, totally, positively sure.”