November Blues Read Online Free PDF Page B

tried not to think about anything—not about what the doctor might say, not about tomorrow, not about the next few months.
    When November got to the office, she was asked to fill out lots of paperwork full of questions about her general health, her family’s health background— pretty awful , she thought to herself—and information about medical insurance. She had copied the number off the card in her mom’s wallet. She wondered how long it would take for her mother to get the bill and figure out what was going on.
    Finally she was taken to a small room and given a paper gown to put on. On the end of the examining table were funny-looking footrests. She’d seem them in movies, and she shuddered when she realized their purpose. Tuneless music played from somewhere in the ceiling, and a photo of a mother duck and her ducklings crossing the street decorated one wall. Otherwise the room was white and sterile and very cold.
    A woman walked briskly into the room. “Good morning. I’m Dr. Holland,” she announced. She had long, gray-black braids tucked under a scarf, and the smoothest taffy-colored skin November had ever seen. The doctor had a warmth about her that made November instantly relax—she seemed motherly and professional all in one package.
    â€œHi. I’m November.”
    â€œThat’s an unusual name. I like that. I think a name ought to stand out and be bold. My first name is Obioma. It’s a Nigerian name that means ‘kind and caring.’”
    â€œWell, I hope you are—kind and caring, that is. I’m in big trouble,” November said quietly.
    â€œYou want to tell me about it?” asked the doctor gently.
    November looked up at the woman and began. “Looks like I got myself pregnant.”
    â€œAll by yourself?” The doctor smiled kindly.
    November felt stupid. She couldn’t even talk straight, let alone think. “No, of course not. My boyfriend was…” She didn’t know what else to say.
    â€œHe’s not around anymore?” the doctor asked.
    â€œNo.” November didn’t go into details. She bowed her head.
    Dr. Holland scribbled something on the chart, then took November’s blood pressure and listened to her heart. “Have you talked to your mother?” the doctor asked.
    â€œNo, ma’am.”
    â€œWill she be understanding?” The doctor motioned for November to lie down on the paper-covered table.
    â€œNot a chance. She’ll roll over and die.” The ceiling was cracked, November noticed.
    â€œShe might surprise you. And you’re going to have to tell her eventually,” Dr. Holland said.
    â€œThat’s what my friends tell me,” November replied glumly.
    â€œWhen was your last period?” the doctor asked as she adjusted the lights at the end of the table.
    Instead of answering, November said, “I know when it happened.”
    The doctor looked mildly surprised. “You’re absolutely sure of the date?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. It was January twenty-ninth.”
    â€œYou’re sure about that?”
    â€œIt was the night before my boyfriend died.”
    Dr. Holland inhaled sharply. “How did he lose his life, child?”
    â€œStupidity. He jumped out of a window.” Fury coursed through November, and she balled her hands into fists.
    â€œSay what? You poor child. What was his name?”
    â€œJoshua Prescott.”
    â€œHmm. Was that the young man who died over at Douglass High School in that school club accident? I saw it on the news.”
    â€œYes, ma’am. That was Josh.”
    â€œSuch a shame.” She shook her head and gently placed her warm hand over November’s cold and trembling one.
    November, trying not to cry, nodded in thanks for that small gesture of understanding.
    â€œWell, let’s examine you and we’ll take our time and discuss all your options,” Dr. Holland said then.