Like Mother, Like Daughter

Chapter Seven: Unlucky Seven

"Do you even have a plan?"

I turned and looked at Franny over my shoulder then, after having gone into my dresser and gotten a far more flowy top out, so as my bump, no matter how small it was at this stage, would not show under any circumstances. "Franny, I just took the test five minutes ago," I replied, and rolled my eyes slightly at the calamity of it all. "Please. I'm not even thinking about next week, let alone next month, or next year..."

"Well, try this one on for size," Franny replied, slightly annoyed. "What are you going to do about Northwestern? You've already accepted their acceptance..."

"Oh, for the love of..." I placed my head back into my hands, working my temples with my fingers as I mulled it over. "I don't fucking know. I guess the next plan of action would be to make a doctor's appointment to get the fetus looked at or whatever..."

"An ultrasound," Franny said gently. "You want to get an ultrasound."

"I fucking know what it's called," I replied, picking up my head and shooting Franny a glare. "I may be stupid enough to have drunken, unprotected sex, but I know what some so-called medical professionals are called..."

"If they're giving you an ultrasound, rest-assured they're a professional."

I rolled my eyes. "Thank you, Captain Obvious. Much appreciated..."

"Maybe make an appointment now..."

I bit my lower lip then, in an effort to cut back another rude retort towards Franny as I made my way over to my bed, where my cell phone was. Picking it up, I called up Dr. Lennox, my mother's doctor, and wasn't surprised to get her front desk. "Hey, Cheryl," I said, addressing her receptionist. "This is Iana Gallagher-Blomqvist."

"Hello, Iana," said Cheryl. "How may I help you today?"

"Look, this call is sensitive in nature, so I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tell my parents about it," I said quietly.

"Of course. Understood," Cheryl replied, her tone still upbeat. "What's going on?"

I sighed, knowing that, once I recalled the story aloud completely, then it would be even more real, but I knew I needed to get through the hurdle sooner rather than later. "I just got back from a trip to New York, after feeling queasy the entire week," I replied. "And no, I don't think it's something I ate," I told her quickly, knowing that that was usually the first question that anyone asked someone under eighteen in that situation. "I got a pregnancy test from my cousin and it seems that I'm pregnant."

"I see," Cheryl said, always remaining professional. "And how far along would you guess that you were?"

"About eight weeks," I replied.

"All right. And you're experiencing morning sickness, I take it?"

"Yeah, when I'm stressed...or smell fish," I replied.

Cheryl giggled lightly from the other end of the phone. "Understood," she told me. "All right. I have an appointment with Dr. Lennox available at eleven o'clock next Tuesday, a week from today, as a matter of fact. Would that work for you?"

"Yeah, thanks," I replied. I wasn't due at work until one that afternoon, and was covering most of the lunch rush, as well as the entire dinner rush, meaning I'd be helping clean up and close down Patsy's that same evening.

"Okay, Iana, I'm putting you down for eleven o'clock on July the nineteenth," she said, and I quickly accessed my phone calendar and put down the information. "As stated, you would prefer this appointment to be confidential, and I've put a note in attachment to the appointment email for Dr. Lennox."