My Little One by Linda Randall Wisdom

Author:Linda Randall Wisdom
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2000-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

“I CAN’T BELIEVE you just said that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“But I don’t want that!”

“No offense, but what about what I want here. I thought I had some say in this.”

Gail pressed her fingers to her temples with the hope she could rub her headache away, but it didn’t seem to be working.

When Lora told her Brian was on the phone, she thought he was calling to ask how she was. Yes, he did that, but he also asked when her next doctor’s appointment was and announced he wanted to go with her.

“Gail, it took two people to make this baby, and there should be two people with the baby from the beginning,” he said quietly.

“I told you, you didn’t have to worry about my thinking you’ll marry me because of the baby.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

She hated him for saying he wouldn’t marry her because of the baby. Maybe she wasn’t looking for marriage, but did he have to put it into words? Didn’t an honorable man offer marriage when the woman ended up pregnant?

She hated herself because her pants didn’t fit, her skirts were too snug and she was positive her tummy was pouching out. The only pants she could wear today were dry clean only rayon that she would never wear to work. Which was why her first patient, nine-year-old Sam Turner threw up all over her. Poor Gail didn’t have a chance as she, in turn, threw up on Sam’s brand-new tennis shoes with flashing lights around the soles.

Luckily, Sheila had a pair of knit pants stashed away. They were a little too long and snug in the waist but they would do while Gail’s pants were utilizing one-hour service at the dry cleaners.

A nasty pinch under her arm was a reminder she needed to purchase some bras in a larger size along with pants and skirts with an elastic waistband. She nibbled on a soda cracker.

“Still having morning sickness?” Brian asked.

“I don’t know why they call it morning sickness when you can have it any time day or night,” she grumbled. “How did you know I wasn’t feeling well?”

“I can hear the crunch of the crackers you’re eating.”

She muttered less than complimentary words about men with excellent hearing.

“When’s your appointment?”

“You don’t need to go with me.” Her mother would have been horrified to hear her arguing. Gail never argued. It wasn’t done. Suggesting one’s point of view was an entirely different story and perfectly acceptable.

“Yes, I do. I’m the father.” He stressed the last word.

She winced. “Fine, it’s Thursday at three. Too bad if you’re on duty because I’m not changing the appointment.”

“Actually, I’m not. Since I’m sure you’ll be working until then, I’ll pick you up at the office.”

“You don’t need to do that,” she protested.

“No prob, my sweet. I’ll be there at two.” He hung up before she could say anything.

Gail closed her eyes and rubbed her aching temples with her fingertips again. “I hope I’m having a girl. Another Brian Walker in this world just would not be a good idea.

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