Secrets of a Shy Socialite. Wendy S. Marcus

the area yet, which doesn’t matter since the office would most likely be closed now, anyway. And Abbie hasn’t had all her vaccinations,” Jena said. “I can’t take her into an emergency room crowded with sick people.”

      Jena paced and rocked and patted. Abbie screamed. What to do? What to do? A pressure behind her forehead made her eyeballs feel on the verge bulging out of their sockets. An emergency room visit. The absolute worst case scenario. No insurance. Maxed out credit cards. They couldn’t turn her away for inability to pay, could they? The humiliation. But this wasn’t about her and her stupid choices. This was about Abbie.

      “I know a pediatric urgent care center,” Justin said. “Twenty minutes away.” Perfect. Maybe the car ride would put Abbie to sleep and they wouldn’t need to go inside. “I’ll need a ride.” Jena threw it out there to no one in particular. Pathetic rich girl chauffeured from place to place all her life, she’d never bothered to learn to drive. And at age twenty-four she couldn’t even drive her daughter to seek medical treatment.

      “I’ll take you,” Justin said. Before she could tell him she’d rather go with Jaci, or Ian, or Mandy, or anyone but him, he added, “Come on,” and headed for the door.

      Like a mother of twins could simply run out of the condo on a moment’s notice.

      Men.

      “I have to—”

      “Here’s a car seat.” Ian walked out of the second bedroom she temporarily shared with the girls. Not all men were as clueless as Justin.

      “Diaper bag restocked and ready,” Jaci said, holding it out to Justin, who, rather than reaching for it so they could get underway, stared at it like Jaci was trying to pass him a severed limb.

      So sorry she hadn’t purchased a diaper bag worthy of a macho cop. “I like pink,” Jena said, snatching the bag and slinging the strap over her shoulder. “Does the car seat meet with your approval or should I carry that, too?” She shifted Abbie and wrapped her in a baby blanket. Jaci slipped a little pink hat on Abbie’s head and gave her a kiss.

      “Lord help me,” Justin said, taking the car seat from Ian. “I’ve never seen this side of her. She’s got a mouth like Jaci.”

      Not quite. But Jena smiled, welcomed the comparison, because Jaci stood up for herself. Jaci didn’t let people take advantage of her. Jaci could handle anything.

      Justin made the twenty minute trip to the pediatric urgent care center in less than fifteen minutes. Apparently speeding, passing on double yellow lines, and ignoring red lights were perks of the police profession. If not for the seatbelt that kept her lower body anchored on the back seat of his SUV, Jena had no doubt she would have been tossed around like a forgotten soccer ball. During the harrowing ordeal she held on to Abbie’s car seat which was strapped in beside her, her attempts to sooth her daughter and ignore Justin’s aggressiveness behind the wheel both futile.

      Abbie’s unrelenting crying filled the car, echoed in her head, vibrated through her body.

      Justin slowed down—thank you—and turned into the parking lot of a darkened, somewhat rundown strip mall in a not-so-nice part of town. “Why are you pulling in here?” He parked in front of the one lit storefront. The Pediatric Urgent Care Center. “It doesn’t look …” Professional. Clean. Safe.

      While Jena pondered a way to nicely say, “There is no way I am taking my daughter into that dump,” Justin hopped out of the SUV, opened her door, and stuck his head inside. “Now there’s the Jena I know. Do you want to take her out of the carrier or bring in the whole thing?”

      The Jena he knew? She unstrapped Abbie, removed her from the car seat and cuddled her close as she climbed out. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. But she knew. The kids at school mistook quiet, smart and wealthy for snobby, snobby and snobby.

      But this had nothing to do with being a snob and everything to do with being a concerned mother who wanted her daughter examined by a qualified practitioner in a well-equipped, high quality medical setting.

      Justin set his large hand on her low back and applied a gentle pressure to get her moving toward the glass door. “You don’t know me at all,” Jena said. Not exactly his fault. No one did. Because in living life to avoid conflict and cater to the needs, wants, and expectations of others, Jena tended to smother her true personality, thoughts and desires beneath her need to keep everyone who mattered to her happy. Well, no more.

      “You’re right,” Justin responded as he opened the door. “I don’t know you. But whose fault is that?”

      Touché.

      The inside of the facility had a much nicer, more professional feel than the outside. In fact it looked and smelled like a real hospital. Jena’s stress level eased a bit. Abbie’s screams caught everyone’s attention and the ten or so people in the waiting room to the right and the older woman at the registration desk straight ahead all stared at them.

      “Hey, handsome,” the woman behind the desk said, looking past Jena to Justin with a warm smile. “What are you bringing us tonight? Out of uniform?”

      “Hi, Gayle,” Justin said. “This is my …” Justin stopped. “Uh … my …”

      Gayle lowered her head and peered up at him over the top rim of her eyeglasses.

      Jena wanted to help him out but found herself at a loss regarding how to best describe their relationship. Was she his friend? Not really. In truth they barely knew each other. His lover? Did one drunken sexual encounter make them lovers? A woman he hardly knew who just happened to be the mother of the children he didn’t know about and doesn’t want? Bingo!

      Jena decided to go with friend. “I’m a friend of Justin’s.” She reached out her hand to shake Gayle’s and sat down in the chair facing her desk. “This is my daughter, Abbie.” She removed the hat. “She’s six weeks old and has been screaming like this for going on an hour and a half. She doesn’t feel like she has a fever but her abdomen is mildly distended and firm. She’s refusing her bottle and,” she glanced up at Justin, “we felt it best she be examined by a doctor to make sure nothing serious is going on.”

      Gayle typed on her computer keyboard. “Insurance card.”

      “I … don’t have insurance,” Jena admitted, leaning in to whisper. “But if you’d agree to a payment plan I promise to pay off the entire bill.”

      Gayle’s expression all but branded Jena a liar. Then she shifted her disapproving gaze up to Justin no longer happy to see him.

      “She’s my daughter,” he said boldly. “I’ll make sure the bill is paid.”

      Gayle couldn’t have looked more shocked if someone had slapped her across the face with a fish. But she regrouped and handed Jena a clipboard with papers to be filled out and a pen. If only a pitying look hadn’t accompanied them.

      Jena lowered her eyes and let out a breath. Her face burned with the heat of embarrassment. She hated being in this position. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Then balancing Abbie against her chest with her left hand, she completed the necessary paperwork with her right.

      After reviewing the forms Gayle studied Jena’s face. “You’re one of the Piermont twins?” she asked, with reverse snobbery.

      Why, because Jena hadn’t had time to put herself together for public viewing? Because a Piermont shouldn’t need a payment plan? Because she didn’t belong in their little urgent care center? Or with Justin?

      “Not a word,” Justin cautioned Gayle.

      Like a man who didn’t want people knowing he was in any way associated with her. Or that he’d fathered a baby. Two babies. Well, who needed him? “You found me out,” Jena said with a forced laugh. She sat up a bit straighter and lifted her chin. She could do regal better than just about anyone when she needed to. “See. No worries you won’t get paid. I’m a millionairess.” With no currently available