Heart pounding, Adam walked around the unmade bed and opened the closet door. It was filled with clothes. Turning, he looked inside the bathroom. The water level in the toilet was low, suggesting that it had not been used for some time.
Adam walked back through the bedroom and into the living room. There was a newspaper on the coffee table with a seven-week-old date. Moving into the kitchen, Adam saw that the dishes in the sink were covered with a fuzzy black mold. Obviously, Percy Harmon had planned to return. And that was exactly what Adam had feared. Something unexpected must have happened to the man.
Adam decided to get out and call the police. Before he could leave the kitchen, a soft noise made him freeze. It was the distinctive sound of a door closing.
Adam waited. There was only silence. He peered out into the living room. The security chain on the front door was slowly swinging back and forth.
Adam almost passed out. If it had been Percy who’d come in, why was he hiding? Adam stayed glued to his spot in the kitchen, straining to hear additional noise. When the refrigerator kicked on next to him, he moaned with fright. Finally, deciding that at least ten minutes had passed, that maybe it was all his imagination, he walked into the living room and glanced into the bedroom. He could see the open window to the fire escape. The curtains were slowly billowing in the draft. Adam estimated that it would only take a second to cross the room and climb out.
He never made it. As he ran for the window, a figure appeared from the closet. Before Adam could respond, a fist slammed into his abdomen, sending him sprawling to the floor.
CHAPTER 9
When Jennifer arrived at GYN Associates for her monthly checkup, she noticed there were fewer people waiting than on any of her previous visits. Sitting on one of the couches, which she had all to herself, she took out a magazine to read but couldn’t concentrate. Instead, she marveled that nothing untoward had happened to her or her unborn child while Dr. Vandermer had been out of town attending his convention. She’d been sure that she’d start bleeding while he was away, and even though she still was not reconciled to his gruff manner, she didn’t want to have to see a new doctor.
In less than fifteen minutes, Jennifer was taken to an examination room. As she took off her street clothes and put on the paper robe, she asked the nurse if Dr. Vandermer had enjoyed his vacation.
“I guess so,” said Nancy without enthusiasm. She handed Jennifer the urine container and motioned toward the lavatory door.
Something in her tone bothered Jennifer, but when she came out of the bathroom, Dr. Vandermer was waiting.
“I haven’t finished with Mrs. Schonberg,” said Nancy. “Please, give me another few minutes. I still have to draw her hematocrit and weigh her.”
“I just wanted to say hello.” His voice was unusually soft, without his normally brusque overtone. “How are you, Jennifer? You look well.”
“I’m fine,” said Jennifer, surprised.
“Well, I’ll be back as soon as Nancy ’s done.” He closed the door, and Nancy stood for a moment staring after him. “God!” she said. “If I didn’t know him better, I’d swear he was on something. Ever since he came back, he’s been weird. He’s much nicer to his patients, but he’s made my job ten times more difficult. Oh well…” Nancy turned back to Jennifer. “Let’s get your blood and weight.”
She had just finished when Dr. Vandermer returned. “I’ll take over,” he said in the same flat voice. “Your weight is fine. How have you been feeling in general?”
“I haven’t examined her yet,” interrupted Nancy.
“That’s all right,” said Dr. Vandermer. “Why don’t you run the hematocrit while I talk to Jennifer.”
With an audible sigh, Nancy took the hematocrit tubes and left the room.
“So how have you been feeling?” asked Dr. Vandermer again.
Jennifer stared at the man facing her. He had the same polished good looks, but his face was slack, as if he were exhausted. His hair was also a little different. It seemed bushier, and instead of his usual hurried manner, he gave Jennifer the impression that he actually wanted to know what was on her mind.
“I guess I’ve been feeling pretty good,” she said.
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
“Well…,” said Jennifer, “I’m less tired, but the morning sickness has gotten worse, no matter what I do about diet.”
“How do you feel about this pregnancy?” asked Dr. Vandermer. “Sometimes emotions play a role in our well-being.”
Jennifer looked at Dr. Vandermer’s face. He seemed genuinely concerned. “To tell the truth,” she said, “I feel very ambivalent about being pregnant.” Up until that moment she’d been unwilling to admit it, even to her mother. But Dr. Vandermer did not seem disapproving.
“Second thoughts are very common,” he said gently. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel.”
Encouraged by his attitude, Jennifer found herself telling him all of her fears about her career and her relationship with Adam. She admitted that Vandermer had been right; it wasn’t the proper time for them to have a child. She talked for nearly ten minutes, saved from tears only by an odd lack of affect in Vandermer’s expression. He was concerned but in some way remote.
When she finished, he said softly, “I appreciate your confiding in me. It’s not healthy to bottle up your feelings. In fact, they may be related to your continued morning sickness, which should have abated by now. I think that we will have to try you on some medication.” Turning to Nancy, who had just returned to the room, he said, “Would you go down to the supply room and bring back a handful of pregdolen samples?”
Nancy left without a word.
“Now then,” said Dr. Vandermer, “let’s get a good look at you.”
The examination included ultrasonography, which Dr. Vandermer described as a method by which images were produced as ultrasonic waves echoed off the baby’s tissues. Jennifer wasn’t sure she understood, but Dr. Vandermer assured her it was both painless and harmless to mother and fetus alike, and indeed it was. Although a technician came in to run the unit, Dr. Vandermer insisted on doing the test himself. On a screen much like a television’s Jennifer saw the outline of her baby.
“Do you care to know the sex of the child?” asked Dr. Vandermer, straightening up.
“I guess,” said Jennifer, not having given the matter much thought.
“I can’t be sure,” said Dr. Vandermer, “but if I had to guess it looks like a boy.”
Jennifer nodded. For the moment it didn’t make any difference if it were a boy or a girl, but she wondered how Adam felt.
Back in the examination room, Dr. Vandermer sat down at the small desk and began to write up his findings. He dismissed Nancy, who left without a word, obviously displeased to have had her job curtailed.
Jennifer sat on the table, wondering whether she should dress. Finally, Dr. Vandermer turned to face her. “Aside from the morning sickness, you’re doing fine, and maybe this will stop the nausea.” He stacked the samples next to her and wrote out a prescription as well. “Take one pill three times a day.”
Jennifer nodded. She was willing to try anything.
“Now,” said Dr. Vandermer in his new monotone voice, “there are two things I want to discuss with you. First, the next time I see you it will be at the Julian Clinic.”
Jennifer felt her heart skip a beat. The image of Cheryl slumping to the floor flashed before her. She could see the blood and feel the icy panic.
“Jennifer, are you all right?” asked Dr. Vandermer.
“Maybe I should lie down,” said Jennifer, feeling suddenly dizzy.
Dr. Vandermer helped her to lie back.