Chapter Fifty-Four Ivy

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Ivy

" T his is an outpatient program. It's totally voluntary. You have the choice whether you stay or you go. You'll be able to call your sponsor, although you'll be appointed one in-house, and you'll be able to have your cell phone and visitors."

My mom nods, and even with her swollen, bruised eye and the fabric burn on her forehead and cheek, she looks fresh after an early morning shower and ready to start her treatment as we pack up the things I've brought her from her trailer.

I was shocked to see it clean when I arrived. Plants watered, dishes done. Mrs. Potter assured me she would go in every few days and run the water, check the heat, make sure everything is in order. I haven't been around with our intense training schedule, I've just been too busy, but Mrs. Potter informed me things have been quiet around my mom's since Christmas.

More often than not, she's seen her lights out early every night. She said they've been drinking tea together almost nightly on the porch. I wonder just how long she's been working towards getting sober, and then I remind myself it doesn't matter. She's here now and she looks eager to get on with it.

"Being in Williamsburg you'll only be forty-five minutes away, so I'll come see you after we get back from Sarasota."

My mom pats my hand and calms my worried eyes.

"Ivy, baby, you've been looking after me for a long time. You come whenever you can—training a horse for this race is a dream of yours, focus on it. Be in the moment. I'll be okay this time." She hugs me with a strong hold that tells me to trust her and have faith. I see a glimpse of the mother I remember, the one that held me when I was sick, the one that laughed with my father, a lot. The one that cooked us dinners and helped us with our homework. Between this turn of events and Wade's confession to me this morning, I feel like I'm finally in the right place in my life for the first time maybe ever. Moving forward.

"Your transport is here, Glenda." Dr. Evans smiles from the doorway. "We can help with your bags."

I smile back. "Thank you for helping set all of this up for her," I say as I extend my hand for shaking. He obliges and shakes back with a "My pleasure."

Tears prick my eyes as my mama looks at me, ready to leave. I hold them back; I'll save them for later. Right now, all I want is for her to go and heal. I grab my mom's last bag and make my way to the door behind her, hugging her and telling her one more time how proud of her I am before she disappears into the backseat of the transport van. As the van starts out of the loading zone, I let out a breath of relief. Please let this be the time .

"Miss Spencer." I jump when I hear Dr. Evans's voice behind me. I didn't even realize he was still there. "There's just one more thing I want to talk to you about, before you go." I turn back around as he motions to two chairs just beyond the waiting room.

"Let's sit," he says.

I assume he wants to tell me about my bloodwork, and I quickly go over in my mind how much money I have available in my checking account as I figure he may want me to settle some of my mom's bill before I leave. But he doesn't.

Instead, he asks me a question that brings my entire world down around me.

"Are you aware that you're pregnant?"

I blink and grip the bottom of the chair for stability, the room suddenly reeling around me.

Pregnant? I can't be.

My breath accelerates as I realize I can be. Calculating the days since my last period. When the fuck was it? Am I that woman? The one that doesn't even realize she's pregnant because she's living in a sex fog with a hot bossy rancher? Am I a fucking Lifetime show? I just might be. Was it in December? Yes, I had my period in December. At the beginning of it. And now it's February 2nd. My heart skips a beat and then sinks to my feet. The thought of carrying Wade's baby is a dream I can't even let myself fathom.

"I … no, I don't think … I am? Are you sure?" I ask, panic brimming in my chest.

"I'm sure that you are." He smiles at me.

My heart sinks, already breaking for this potential loss before it comes.

"I've been so busy I didn't even realize I was late. I'm on birth control," I say.

Dr. Evans seems unfazed.

"Have you taken any medications over the last couple of months? Anything out of the ordinary?"

I think back. Besides an incredible amount of sex?

"Only vitamins, and I've been taking some natural remedies to help keep my immune system strong through flu season." He looks at me, so I elaborate. "Extra Vitamin C, Mullein, St. John's Wort, Echinacea … A few others, because after Christmas I had the stomach flu, it was quick forty-eight hours."

He nods. "That could do it, and sometimes even natural meds can interfere with the pill, and sometimes the pill just doesn't work one hundred percent effectively.

"After you said you had been dizzy and nauseous, I had a hunch to check for it when we ran your panel, and sure enough I was right. I think you're right around seven to eight weeks along, judging by your hCG levels. You're also a bit low on iron. So we can get you on some with a good prenatal vitamin."

Before I understand what is even happening, tears are filling my eyes for a child I already love so much and I'm afraid I may not meet.

"I take it this is unexpected. Do you need … to talk to someone?" Dr. Evans asks.

"No, I … it's just, I'm not supposed to … I can't carry a baby to term."

Dr. Evans's brow furrows as he glances down to his folder.

"Why not?"

I fill him in as he writes in his notes while he listens to my story.

"I'd like to schedule you for an ultrasound. Check for the heartbeat and see how the baby is, check everything out really. Your levels are great right now. Did you ever get a second opinion on your fertility?"

I shake my head, not even allowing the hope to register, not to mention this might be the last thing Wade wants in life right now. He says he loves me, but does he love me enough to make it through this loss with me?

"Would your previous doctor be able to be contacted for his notes?" Dr. Evans extends a box of tissue for me to take one. I do, gratefully.

"Yes, I believe so." I nod, wiping my eyes with the tissue and taking a deep breath.

"Let's schedule that ultrasound. We'll know more then. I'll grab some vitamin samples and schedule you a time. I'll be right back," he says.

The moment he leaves, the floodgates open for a child I haven't even lost yet.