The drive to Ob Gyn Associates of Broxton was silent. Anna re-read all of the questions she had written down this past week while Titus made sure they got to Broxton fifteen minutes before the scheduled appointment. From the corner of her eye, she saw the hard set of his face, his jaw clamped as tightly as his hands on the steering wheel.
To a person who didn't know him all too well, Titus would appear relaxed. With his right arm casually playing with a stray piece of leather on the counsel and his form slouched into the Ford's truck seats, he looked like they were just going on a normal trip down to Benny's Pharmacy and Soda Fountain.
But they weren't. She and Titus were going down to the very first prenatal appointment for this child inside of her. Anna rubbed the small baby bump with an absent mind, enjoying the feel of a small yet important life inside her that had changed everything in a span of just a few weeks.
People, she could tell, were beginning to notice the little bump, but only Sam had asked if she was pregnant. Anna could still remember how she had just sat down on the bench next to her friend, telling Sam that yes, she was in fact pregnant with her newlywed's child. Word had quickly spread after that, and within a day, everybody – even her students and the elderly shut-ins – had known.
There were congratulations said, and only one precarious, unbelieving look from Mary Ellis. Anna had been expecting a lot more unbelievers than just Mary, but, as far as she'd seen, everybody was just happy for her. There was no other word for it. When she had went grocery shopping earlier today, a high school student cashier had congratulated her, soon followed by a string of others as she had walked in the parking lot to her car.
In Napolm, that type of behavior was to be expected. It was too small to not be a religious-oriented town where everybody knew everything about everybody else. Hell, she even knew the middle name of the guy who had bought Hunter's old financial advisor building that had been his makeshift office whenever he had been in Napolm.
Keith Paxton Summerstron was the guy's name, and he had even congratulated her with a handshake on the pregnancy when she had taken one last stroll down that part of Napolm. She could still remember how a group of older women had circled around like a pack of wolves as they asked about Titus and how the rancher was doing.
Anna had said all the right things to not just them but everybody, making everybody fall in love with her and Titus's love story. Some just stood there with dreamy eyes, others – like the Eagles' football coach, Dan Wilkensky – had been grinning ear to ear with the prospect of another strong generation of football players.
She looked down at her belly once again, wondering if they were indeed having a football player or if this child was going to play volleyball. Some people always said that the mother just somehow knew what the gender of the child was, but Anna honestly had no idea and not a care really if this was going to be a boy or a girl. He or she would have a home with a loving father and secure mother, and that was all she was concerned about.
“What do you think?” Anna asked, fiddling around with her list of questions.
He didn't take his eyes off the road, only continuing to dodge in and out of traffic on the interstate. “What do I think about what?”
“The gender? Boy or girl?”
“Aren't you supposed to know? Don't you have some type of seventh, motherly sense or somethin'?”
“Guess,” was all she said, wanting him to alleviate her nerves by just talking with her.
The corner of his mouth kicked up, and he said, “I'm guessing that it's probably gonna be a boy, but I want a girl.”
She let her head loll against the junction between seat and door. “Why?”
“'Cause she'll look more like you.”
“Oh,” Anna replied, knowing what he meant.
They were quiet after that, going through heavy Saturday traffic until they approached a medium-sized, quaint building advertising the obstetrician and gynecologist services they offered. The parking lot was clean, only a few cigarettes here and there as she and Titus walked up to the glassy, polished doors of Ob-Gyn Associates of Broxton.
It was intimidating, she had to admit. Even though she had been here before for past gynecologist checkups, all the white brick, wood, and shiny glass was just very straight looking. The inside was even nicer, smelling more like the wildflowers on the tables than the hospital smell she hated.
A few others were in the spacious waiting room, not one looking up as Titus checked them both in. With bright orange, pink, and green chairs, the waiting room was more of a lounge that offered cookies, fruit juices, water, and an array of magazines that soon captured her interest.
Most of the articles were baby involved, and although she had already read this in her parenting books, she kept reading and waited for the ob gyn to call them through the large, double glass doors that were in the corner.
Titus was right next to her, somehow managing to exude his presence in the large room. He held a magazine that was covered with baby faces, advertising the best time and positions to be fertile. Thumbing through it, he looked absolutely formidable in this setting of flowers, cartoon suns, and motherly quotes printed on the bright yellow walls.
A tall, average sized woman came in the room awhile later, holding a clipboard as she scanned the room. “Anna Simmons,” she said, smiling warmly with a slightly wrinkled face when she stood up.
Contrary to what he had agreed to do earlier this morning Titus stood up along with her. About to protest, Anna let the words die in her throat when his hand came down and squeezed hers. They walked with the ob gyn into a small room that contained a stool, light blue contertops, an extra purple chair, and a padded table that she guessed was what she was going to be laying down on during the exam.
“Dr. Cliveston will be in shortly. He's with another patient at the moment,” the secretary said before writing something down on her clipboard.
“He?” Titus asked, his hand tightening on hers almost painfully. “There must be a mistake. Anna doesn't-”
“Sir, Dr. Cliveston is one of the best here at Ob Gyn Associates of Broxton. With many degrees – including his Master's – and working twenty-five years in this field, he is very experienced and professional.”
Titus didn't relax, only shooting daggers at the woman with his eyes until she left and closed the door behind her. “Why would you pick a male gynecologist?” he asked, venom in his voice.
“Titus, he's been my gynecologist ever since my very first appointment. You'll like him. He's nice,” she tried to reassure before reclining on the comfortable table.
“Men aren't supposed to get into this sort of department. Being around,” - he waved his arms frantically at her sexual reproduction area - “that all the time is not normal. It's perverted.”
“It's not even that big a deal. I've known him since I was a teenager.”
“It's just so...perverted!” Titus just kept on saying loud enough that she could hear every word. “If he so much as touches your-”
“That's what they do!” she snapped, just a little irritated that he was treating her like a child. “It's his job! If you got a problem with that, then just leave.”
Titus crossed his arms and planted his feet more firmly against the floor while he just slouched in that purple chair. “Like hell I am. You're switching after we're done with this one.”
She crossed her own arms over her chest, trying to not get frustrated with his caveman-like antics. “No. You haven't even met the guy, and you're already just assuming that he's some kind of perve. He's not, Titus! He's one of the nicest and most professional people I've ever met! My mother's even the one who set me up with him!”
“They didn't even get your last name right! It's Cantrell now. Not Simmons!”
“Calm down!”
“I am calm!”
“You are so not calm! Calm people don't insult professional doctors who have their Doctorate's degrees and have helped probably hundreds if not thousands of women! Calm people don't shout at pregnant women!”
Titus smirked half-heartedly, dragging a hand down his face. “You're shouting, so that means you're not calm either.” He snapped his fingers in a z-like pattern and put a hand on his hip, practically humming, “So don't be tellin' me to be calm when you ain't calm yourself, damn woman!”
“Pregnant women aren't required to be calm,” she huffed, trying not to laugh and just stay serious around him for once. Taking one last look at his face, Anna knew she couldn't stay mad at him and let out just one little sound of laughter.
Just one turned into one more and then another until she was doubled over and teary-eyed, his stereotypical woman routine too much to handle at a place like the gynecologist's. Anna eventually managed to catch her breath, still laughing at the flushed look on Titus's face as he too quieted down.
“I'm thirsty,” he said right before standing up and trying to open up the cabinets. He played with the button-ordered locks, fingers jamming them all in at once and then just not trying at all as he tried prying the doors open. “Look at this. Why would they lock their cabinets if they're not trying to hide something?”
“They're not hiding anything.”
“I'm pretty sure they are. Why else would they lock up all their cabinets?”
“So people don't steal things.”
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It's more than that. I'm telling ya, Anna, male gynecologists always have something to hide. There's probably-”
“There's needles in there,” she replied, knowing exactly how to get him to quiet. “Lots and lots of needles. So many different sizes, too. I'll tell ya, I saw like the biggest syringe ever in there. Dr. Cliveston said they had to use it for injecting sedatives sometimes...ya know, for people who feel sick when their blood gets drawn.”
It was all a bunch of bullshit, but Titus turned white and sat down in the chair all the same. She patted his head with soft strokes to calm him down, feeling just a little bit guilty at scaring him like that. Pressing her hand down against the back of his neck, he held their hands there, inhaling and exhaling deeply through his mouth.
“Hey,” she began, playing with the nape of his neck, “I was just kidding. There aren't any needles, okay?”
He raised his head, eyes filled with hope and innocence. “No needles?”
“No needles.” She nodded and brought her hand back to rest on her stomach.
“Ugh...” he huffed, anxiously looking from the door to her and back with challenge in his eyes. “When's he gonna be here? Sure is takin' long en-”
“I apologize for the wait,” Dr. Cliveston said, greeting her by shaking her hand like he always did.
Titus, she realized as she watched him stand up and tower of Dr. Cliveston's short, average-weight form, was a little bit trickier. A deep scowl covered his face, his eyes casting forth a deep resentment that brought a tenseness to the small room. She watched as they both shook hands, Titus's fingers turning white with pressure while Dr. Cliveston yanked his back after a few, long, awkward seconds.
“Yes, well, it's nice to see you again, Anna. And this is your husband?” He cleared his throat and cast a scared glance to where Titus was just staring him down with evil intent in those eyes.
“Yes, that's Titus.”
“It's nice to uhm...meet you.”
“Her last name's Cantrell,” was all Titus said, not even adverting his steely gaze.
Anna gave Titus the nastiest look she could, trying to tell him to just cool it for at least a few seconds. He obviously didn't receive her eye messages, only continuing to just glare at Dr. Cliveston who was practically cowering in his white, official looking coat.
“I apologize for that. My secretary will be sending out the changes to Anna's medical records. In the meantime, I have some questions to ask you, Anna.”
She relaxed into the reclining table, nestling her head back in the pillow while her gynecologist wrote down a few things onto his own clipboard. Feeling Titus's eyes on her, she gave him a reassuring smile, trying to show him that he could just relax and act civilized around the doctor. But his jaw was set, and she knew all attempts at getting through that stubborn head of his would be futile.
Dr. Cliveston smiled and sat down on his stool, partially turning his back to Titus who was practically killing the man with his eyes. “So, Anna...” he began the list of questions, peppering her with question after question about all sorts of things.
She answered them all as honestly as she could, glad that he hadn't asked who the father was. When it was time for her to ask the questions, she didn't hold back, taking out the piece of paper with the lengthy list and taking down the most thorough of notes. Titus didn't hold back either, only asking what tests and screenings would have to be done for this prenatal visit.
In all out, professional, don't-mess-with-me-and-my-patient, gynecologist mode, Dr. Cliveston didn't even bat an eye as he told Titus in explicit detail that she would be receiving a Pap smear, breast exam, blood tests, and a transvaginal ultrasound.
“What does that mean?” Titus asked, his head still hard and set on thinking that her gynecologist was some sort of pervert.
“What? Transvaginal? Oh, just that we'll need to insert a very small, lubricated probe into the vaginal opening.” The doctor made an O with thumb and index finger and inserted another finger into that O. “Then, I put the little, harmless probe in there, and we receive sound waves that are reflecting off the body structure of Anna's and your baby's body structure. And after that, we'll check his or her heartbeat.”
“Heartbeat?” Titus gulped.
“Yes, but we'll save that for last, okay, Papa Bear?”
Scowling at the nickname, he resumed his original position of arms crossed and legs fidgeting in the seat. He didn't, however, remain so calm when the gynecologist told her that she would need to take off all her clothes and change into a blue, hospital gown.
“Why does she have to do that?” he snapped and ran his hands through his hair again to take it just beyond the point of being unruly and mussed.
Anna didn't say anything, letting Dr. Cliveston establish that he was the boss here. “The clothes she's wearing right now won't work for the exams, and the gown is much more comfortable. Almost everything's covered up this way when I do the all of the exams, so you don't have to worry. Now, you two just sit tight. I'll be right back with the gown.”
As soon as the door closed behind the doctor, Titus lit into her. “You seriously picked this guy over a female gynecologist?”
“Yes,” she said matter of factly. “I did, and I will continue staying with him whether you like it or not.”
“I do believe that I have a say in things now, Anna. We are switching as soon as we get outta here! You got that?”
“No! I swear, Titus, if you so much as give him another dirty look, I will kick you out of this room and let him just do the normal screenings without anybody else in here.”
“You wouldn't.”
She glared, wanting to just sedate him with a thousand needles if that was what it took. “Oh, I would, Titus. I would. And you know why? Because I trust him. And if I trust him, then you should too.”
“But...but...” he faltered, looking away. “Fine. I'll stop. But only if you let me stay.”
“Yes, you can stay.”
“Thank you.” He slouched back into the chair with a more, relaxed body that she knew would be strung tight as soon as Dr. Cliveton came back.
As expected, Titus shot straight up once the door opened, revealing the gynecologist carrying a light blue gown that would cover her up very well. Titus snatched it from Dr. Cliveton in what he probably thought was gentle.
“Does she get like a curtained off corner or something?”
Dr. Cliveton nodded, gesturing over to the small circle of curtains that would pulled around for her privacy. “Yes, right over there. You can go change now, Anna.”
“I can do it myself,” she whispered to Titus before going into the room, shucking off all her clothes and undergarments and tying the back ties of the gown.
After placing her neatly folded clothes onto the counter top, she repositioned herself on the reclining table until she was laying flat on her back. Dr. Cliveton approached, and Titus reached for her hand in something almost as tight as a death grip.
She didn't look at him, only leaning back and allowing Cliveton do the breast exam. Even through the gown and the latex gloves, his hands were cold as they manipulated the tender flesh. When she winced a little at the soreness, she forced herself to just stare straight up at the wall. It always felt a little uncomfortable, but eventually the gynecologist finished and began putting the stirrups up for her to rest her legs.
The key was to just keep breathing, Anna reminded herself as she exposed everything to Dr. Cliveton. He put a cold piece of metal inside and lubricated everything while his finger probed. It felt very uncomfortable, but she didn't say anything, only squeezing Titus's hand with a force equal to that of his grip.
“Okay, we're all done with this. I'll bring one of my nurses in to draw your blood, and then we'll hook up the ultrasound probe.” Dr. Cliveton left again, leaving her and Titus alone in the room.
The first thing she did was put down and cross her legs. And just in time, too, for a nurse came in with a few vials and needles in her arms. Very efficient and clean, the older woman rubbed part of Anna's arm with alcohol and then secured the band around her arm.
Her veins were searched until the nurse must have found something she liked, because the next thing Anna knew, a clip with a needle at the end was put into her arm and her blood was going through the long tube into the vials on a rack not too far away.
“Son,” the older woman said, patting Titus a few times on the shoulder, “you just gotta take deep breaths now, okay?”
His face was pale, and he avoided her gaze while his head was being held in his hands. All he did was nod, and Anna was about to reach for his hand again when the small suction feeling reminded her not to.
“He's just a little...scared of needles,” she whispered to the nurse who only chuckled lightly in response.
“Am not,” the very same man protested, head still in his hands.
“S'alright, dear. This isn't for everybody. Now,” - she looked back at Anna - “you're all done. We'll take these downstairs to the lab, and by the time your ultrasound's all finished, you'll have the results.”
“Thank you.” Anna smiled and watched as yet another employee went out the door to leave her and Titus alone.
“I'm gonna be sick.”
“It's okay,” she cooed softly. “We'll go get ice cream after, alright?”
He didn't even look up at her. “I'm not some little kid. It's gonna take a whole lot more than just ice cream.”
“They have hot caramel at Benny's.”
And just like that, the problem was solved. He sat back up in the chair just as color began to reappear in his face. Dr. Cliveton came back in a few minutes later, merriment in his eyes as he noticed Titus looking emotionally scarred in that chair. A little, metal object was in his gloved hands, and then, after she put up her legs again and the nurse set up the machine, it was partly inside her.
The television-like machine sputtered to life from beside her, filling the room with the sound of fans from its tower. In only a few minutes, there was a grainy, black and white picture on the screen. It was so small yet brought tears to her eyes.
Looking like a little bean-shaped things with tiny, little appendages, this was her baby. The picture changed every now and then with the shifting of her body, but it was still clear as day that the little, slowly developing object was her child.
“Everything looks good. Amniotic fluid, yolk sac, uterus, all looking normal. Your baby's developing well also.” Dr. Cliveton pointed to the little things sticking out from the round object. “These are arms and legs. The body's beginning to form, and everything is going nicely. This picture's already being saved to our computers, so we can further examine.”
Titus spoke up from beside them, eyes looking mesmerized at the picture that was frozen on the screen. “You said...something about a heartbeat?”
“Yes, of course.” The gynecologist pressed a few buttons on the monitor, zooming in at the very center of the small, little bean-shaped life in her. His thumb moved something else up, and just like that, they were surrounded by a fast-paced thrumming. “Our computers are keeping track of the baseline rate, and, from what I can see, everything is going well.”
Titus's breath hitched from beside her, but she couldn't look at him – wouldn't look at him. She looked at Dr. Cliveton instead and just listened to her baby's crazy, wild, yet apparently normal heartbeat.