Chapter XIII
One week later, Samantha found herself sitting in the doctor's waiting room. She'd booked up an appointment to see the in-house nurse for a pregnancy test as she didn't trust the over the counter predictors and everything had appeared to be fairly routine. Now she was sitting there very nervously, waiting for her name to be called so she could find out the results.
She watched as people walked in and out of the surgery, making quick stops to renew their prescriptions or just to make appointments. The door creaked loudly and, even with a gentle push, would slam behind the person walking through.
The surgery itself was an old Tudor style house, that had been renovated internally to make a surgery. It was easy to see where all the original rooms would have been. The waiting room was, of course, the lounge, with the closed up chimney breast now being used to display posters and messages on a pin board. The room had been painted an irritatingly magnolia looking colour, although Stuart had assured her that it was probably taupe.
"Why would they paint the surgery in taupe?" Samantha had asked. "Surely it should be green or some other 'well being' colour."
"They say that taupe is very soothing," Stuart had replied. "Did you never watch the remake of Ocean's Eleven?"
The original archway into the dining room was still in place, and now served as a hatch for the receptionist. The surgery rooms were scattered around the building with some in the basement, some on the ground level, and some upstairs. The ones upstairs were for the paediatricians and the midwifery services, with the ones in the basement designed for x-raying facilities, so there wouldn't be constant exposure to the reception staff from the radiation. That had left the ground level rooms for general practice and were the only ones that Samantha had ever been in.
A toddler of about four was playing with the building blocks in the toy corner, banging them together loudly, the sound echoing around the waiting room. An elderly couple sat in the back row, one of them wearing a large spongy neck brace. A man in a business suit sat near the reception desk, clutching his briefcase tightly, and jogging his legs up and down nervously. Samantha wondered what he was in for. He looked just as nervous as her. Maybe he was waiting for results of some kind too.
"Samantha Daniels?"
Samantha looked up to see the reception calling her from the desk. She left her seat and walked through to the nurse's room. The room was stark white. Everything, from the walls and floor to the bed and the sideboard was painted or covered in white. Samantha wondered how hard it was to keep everything looking clean.
"Okay," the nurse said. "Well, depending on what you wanted to hear, this is either good news or bad news."
"Just hit me," Samantha replied.
"The test came back as negative."
Samantha gave a sigh of relief.
"I have to say, though," the nurse continued, "that the tests are not one hundred percent accurate and, if you'd like, I can run a couple of blood tests through as well, just to be on the safe side."
"Oh," Samantha said. "Well, I don't mix well with needles and giving blood would just be too much for me, really."
"Well, the only reason I suggested it was because you said your cycle was being irregular lately and, combined with your being sick… Well, I can't see anything particularly wrong with you to explain why otherwise."
"I see."
"You have been particularly stressed lately, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna get married in a couple of months."
"Okay, well, I'm gonna ask you to try and take it easy, and if you have any further problems, come back and I would strongly suggest those blood tests, okay?"
"Okay."
Samantha let herself into her apartment and found the whole place in darkness.
"Stuart?" she called out. "Have you cut the power again?"
She walked into the lounge and the lights flipped on. She saw Pete standing by the window, a big grin all over his face.
"Pete?"
"Hey there stranger!"
"Oh my god!" Samantha cried, and ran into Pete, nearly knocking him over, and tightly wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Hey!" Pete smiled, hugging her back and then pulling her away so he could see her face properly.
"I wasn't expecting you back for at least another week," Samantha said, keeping her arms around him, as if she was afraid he would suddenly disappear again. She levered herself up on her toes and kissed him. "You should have called me!"
"And ruin the surprise? It was worth the look on your face!"
"I am so glad to see you again!"
"Me too!"
They kissed again, this time for longer, and Samantha felt all the warmth slowly making its way through her body again. She pulled away and took off her coat. Pete took it from her, hanging it up on the back of the chair by the computer.
"So how comes you are home?" Samantha asked. "You said it would be mid February at the earliest."
"I guess all that overtime and not being able to go anywhere or do anything other than work within the same four walls day after day motivates a guy!"
"So the contract's ended?"
"Oh yeah!" Pete said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I am never doing that again! It was just so awful not being able to go home or go out and do all the things I wanted to do."
"So you just worked every day?"
"Yup," Pete said, sitting down on the sofa and wrapping his arm around Samantha's shoulders as she sat down next to him. "I got up in the morning, went to work, went home, fell asleep, and then the next day it started all over again."
"God."
"Yeah," Pete sighed, screwing his nose slightly. "Of course, I got the odd weekend off but I was just so tired that I'd probably have an accident trying to drive back to London to see you. I'm just glad it's all over. So, how have the wedding preps been going? Did you get the menu sorted?"
"Oh, the caterers are the one thing I haven't been able to sort!" Samantha said, walking into the kitchen. "It's been so exasperating, leaving messages with various people and not being able to get one call back. I'm not recommending those people to anyone! Drink?"
"Coffee would be great. Are you still trying to call Clarke Catering & Co?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Mum called me this morning. They went out of business a week ago."
Samantha came back into the lounge. "What?!"
"Yeah, something about bad service and people refusing to pay up," Pete said. "The company grew debts thick and fast and eventually buckled under the strain. Mum said that Colin and Catherine were out on site every day trying to make things better but…"
"Now they're kaput?"
"Correct."
"So what do we do now?" Samantha asked. "Hiring another caterer this late would probably be okay but it'd be so expensive without that discount we were relying on."
"Well, that was the other surprise, you see."
"You got a bonus?"
"I got a raise by about ten thou!"
"Shit! You're kidding?"
"Nope! And I have a chance to work either at home or, and this is the biggie!"
"What?"
"Steve wants to know if I'd be interested into moving to the States and starting up a sub section of the business in Boston."
Samantha's stomach dropped. "Boston?"
"Yeah, big, huh?"
"You said 'No', right?"
"Well, I said I'd think about it and discuss it with you," Pete said. "He doesn't expect me to make a decision right away because it won't just be a one-off thing. I'd be expected to move there and run the company from the site for at least the first three years."
"You said you wanted to work from home," Samantha reminded him. "Remember when we had this discussion back in October? This gigantic separation trial was going to be a one off so you could work freelance from home and not have to worry about big corporate figureheads taking all the major profits. And now you're talking about moving to America!"
"I know I said that, but Sammy! America! It's like the best opportunity yet!"
"Why is going to America such a great thing?" Samantha said, getting angry. "You sound as if you've already made your decision! Why are you just pushing aside everything we planned for just to further your career?"
"I'm not saying that I want to," Pete argued. "I'm just saying that Steve offered and it's something that I definitely want to sleep on for a while."
"I don't want to live in America," Samantha said. "I'm sorry, but it's too big a change for me. I'm a London girl, born and bred three generations. I'm never gonna leave."
"Would you live in America for me?"
"Don't ask me that."
"You wouldn't?"
"I said don't ask me."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I don't want to move to America just because you'll get to head a business. Remember it won't be your business; it'll be Steve's and you'll just be the figurehead. You know? One of those figureheads who take the profits away from the underlings, the ones who do the real work?"
"Samantha," Pete said, taking her hand. "If I marry you and choose to go to America, I expect you to come with me and support me."
"And if you loved me, you wouldn't make me do something I didn't want to do," Samantha said, pulling her hand away.
"But it's what I want."
"What about what I want?" Samantha demanded. "I've just single handedly organised a wedding without you, while you were off doing what you wanted. I've had to be supportive to my sister while Mum does her crazy thing and abandons all her senses and any responsibility she's ever had. No one has been here to help me, to be supportive to me, to let me do what I want. Why should it always be about you?"
"It's not always about me!" Pete said defensively. "You're the one moaning about America. Geez, Samantha, I thought you wanted a better lifestyle, to get away from it all!"
"Running off to America doesn't necessarily equal a better lifestyle!"
"I'm not running off! I…"
Pete stopped and sighed, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. Samantha sighed as well, giving him a half smile.
"What is happening to us?" Samantha asked. "We've successfully managed to have a big argument on the last two meetings we've had."
"Yeah, I just realised that too," Pete said, returning the lopsided smile.
"I'm not gonna ask the question."
"I know."
"But you're not gonna either?"
"Do you still want to get married?"
"Yeah, that was the question."
"Look, I shouldn't have mentioned the America thing," Pete said. "It just seemed to follow through on what I was already talking about. It's early days and might not even materialise."
"How long are we talking about?"
"About a year, nothing immediately."
"Look, if you've genuinely changed your mind about the freelancing from home thing…"
"You know what? Forget it, yeah? We can discuss this any time for ages yet. I just want to spend time with you for now, okay?"
"Finally something we agree on!" Samantha said, kissing him lightly.
"So," Pete said coyly, fiddling with the buttons on Samantha's shirt, "how do you suppose I could make things up to you?"
"Oh, I'm sure I could think of a few things (!)" Samantha grinned.
Back to Chapter XII
Go to Chapter XIV
She watched as people walked in and out of the surgery, making quick stops to renew their prescriptions or just to make appointments. The door creaked loudly and, even with a gentle push, would slam behind the person walking through.
The surgery itself was an old Tudor style house, that had been renovated internally to make a surgery. It was easy to see where all the original rooms would have been. The waiting room was, of course, the lounge, with the closed up chimney breast now being used to display posters and messages on a pin board. The room had been painted an irritatingly magnolia looking colour, although Stuart had assured her that it was probably taupe.
"Why would they paint the surgery in taupe?" Samantha had asked. "Surely it should be green or some other 'well being' colour."
"They say that taupe is very soothing," Stuart had replied. "Did you never watch the remake of Ocean's Eleven?"
The original archway into the dining room was still in place, and now served as a hatch for the receptionist. The surgery rooms were scattered around the building with some in the basement, some on the ground level, and some upstairs. The ones upstairs were for the paediatricians and the midwifery services, with the ones in the basement designed for x-raying facilities, so there wouldn't be constant exposure to the reception staff from the radiation. That had left the ground level rooms for general practice and were the only ones that Samantha had ever been in.
A toddler of about four was playing with the building blocks in the toy corner, banging them together loudly, the sound echoing around the waiting room. An elderly couple sat in the back row, one of them wearing a large spongy neck brace. A man in a business suit sat near the reception desk, clutching his briefcase tightly, and jogging his legs up and down nervously. Samantha wondered what he was in for. He looked just as nervous as her. Maybe he was waiting for results of some kind too.
"Samantha Daniels?"
Samantha looked up to see the reception calling her from the desk. She left her seat and walked through to the nurse's room. The room was stark white. Everything, from the walls and floor to the bed and the sideboard was painted or covered in white. Samantha wondered how hard it was to keep everything looking clean.
"Okay," the nurse said. "Well, depending on what you wanted to hear, this is either good news or bad news."
"Just hit me," Samantha replied.
"The test came back as negative."
Samantha gave a sigh of relief.
"I have to say, though," the nurse continued, "that the tests are not one hundred percent accurate and, if you'd like, I can run a couple of blood tests through as well, just to be on the safe side."
"Oh," Samantha said. "Well, I don't mix well with needles and giving blood would just be too much for me, really."
"Well, the only reason I suggested it was because you said your cycle was being irregular lately and, combined with your being sick… Well, I can't see anything particularly wrong with you to explain why otherwise."
"I see."
"You have been particularly stressed lately, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna get married in a couple of months."
"Okay, well, I'm gonna ask you to try and take it easy, and if you have any further problems, come back and I would strongly suggest those blood tests, okay?"
"Okay."
Samantha let herself into her apartment and found the whole place in darkness.
"Stuart?" she called out. "Have you cut the power again?"
She walked into the lounge and the lights flipped on. She saw Pete standing by the window, a big grin all over his face.
"Pete?"
"Hey there stranger!"
"Oh my god!" Samantha cried, and ran into Pete, nearly knocking him over, and tightly wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Hey!" Pete smiled, hugging her back and then pulling her away so he could see her face properly.
"I wasn't expecting you back for at least another week," Samantha said, keeping her arms around him, as if she was afraid he would suddenly disappear again. She levered herself up on her toes and kissed him. "You should have called me!"
"And ruin the surprise? It was worth the look on your face!"
"I am so glad to see you again!"
"Me too!"
They kissed again, this time for longer, and Samantha felt all the warmth slowly making its way through her body again. She pulled away and took off her coat. Pete took it from her, hanging it up on the back of the chair by the computer.
"So how comes you are home?" Samantha asked. "You said it would be mid February at the earliest."
"I guess all that overtime and not being able to go anywhere or do anything other than work within the same four walls day after day motivates a guy!"
"So the contract's ended?"
"Oh yeah!" Pete said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I am never doing that again! It was just so awful not being able to go home or go out and do all the things I wanted to do."
"So you just worked every day?"
"Yup," Pete said, sitting down on the sofa and wrapping his arm around Samantha's shoulders as she sat down next to him. "I got up in the morning, went to work, went home, fell asleep, and then the next day it started all over again."
"God."
"Yeah," Pete sighed, screwing his nose slightly. "Of course, I got the odd weekend off but I was just so tired that I'd probably have an accident trying to drive back to London to see you. I'm just glad it's all over. So, how have the wedding preps been going? Did you get the menu sorted?"
"Oh, the caterers are the one thing I haven't been able to sort!" Samantha said, walking into the kitchen. "It's been so exasperating, leaving messages with various people and not being able to get one call back. I'm not recommending those people to anyone! Drink?"
"Coffee would be great. Are you still trying to call Clarke Catering & Co?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Mum called me this morning. They went out of business a week ago."
Samantha came back into the lounge. "What?!"
"Yeah, something about bad service and people refusing to pay up," Pete said. "The company grew debts thick and fast and eventually buckled under the strain. Mum said that Colin and Catherine were out on site every day trying to make things better but…"
"Now they're kaput?"
"Correct."
"So what do we do now?" Samantha asked. "Hiring another caterer this late would probably be okay but it'd be so expensive without that discount we were relying on."
"Well, that was the other surprise, you see."
"You got a bonus?"
"I got a raise by about ten thou!"
"Shit! You're kidding?"
"Nope! And I have a chance to work either at home or, and this is the biggie!"
"What?"
"Steve wants to know if I'd be interested into moving to the States and starting up a sub section of the business in Boston."
Samantha's stomach dropped. "Boston?"
"Yeah, big, huh?"
"You said 'No', right?"
"Well, I said I'd think about it and discuss it with you," Pete said. "He doesn't expect me to make a decision right away because it won't just be a one-off thing. I'd be expected to move there and run the company from the site for at least the first three years."
"You said you wanted to work from home," Samantha reminded him. "Remember when we had this discussion back in October? This gigantic separation trial was going to be a one off so you could work freelance from home and not have to worry about big corporate figureheads taking all the major profits. And now you're talking about moving to America!"
"I know I said that, but Sammy! America! It's like the best opportunity yet!"
"Why is going to America such a great thing?" Samantha said, getting angry. "You sound as if you've already made your decision! Why are you just pushing aside everything we planned for just to further your career?"
"I'm not saying that I want to," Pete argued. "I'm just saying that Steve offered and it's something that I definitely want to sleep on for a while."
"I don't want to live in America," Samantha said. "I'm sorry, but it's too big a change for me. I'm a London girl, born and bred three generations. I'm never gonna leave."
"Would you live in America for me?"
"Don't ask me that."
"You wouldn't?"
"I said don't ask me."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I don't want to move to America just because you'll get to head a business. Remember it won't be your business; it'll be Steve's and you'll just be the figurehead. You know? One of those figureheads who take the profits away from the underlings, the ones who do the real work?"
"Samantha," Pete said, taking her hand. "If I marry you and choose to go to America, I expect you to come with me and support me."
"And if you loved me, you wouldn't make me do something I didn't want to do," Samantha said, pulling her hand away.
"But it's what I want."
"What about what I want?" Samantha demanded. "I've just single handedly organised a wedding without you, while you were off doing what you wanted. I've had to be supportive to my sister while Mum does her crazy thing and abandons all her senses and any responsibility she's ever had. No one has been here to help me, to be supportive to me, to let me do what I want. Why should it always be about you?"
"It's not always about me!" Pete said defensively. "You're the one moaning about America. Geez, Samantha, I thought you wanted a better lifestyle, to get away from it all!"
"Running off to America doesn't necessarily equal a better lifestyle!"
"I'm not running off! I…"
Pete stopped and sighed, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. Samantha sighed as well, giving him a half smile.
"What is happening to us?" Samantha asked. "We've successfully managed to have a big argument on the last two meetings we've had."
"Yeah, I just realised that too," Pete said, returning the lopsided smile.
"I'm not gonna ask the question."
"I know."
"But you're not gonna either?"
"Do you still want to get married?"
"Yeah, that was the question."
"Look, I shouldn't have mentioned the America thing," Pete said. "It just seemed to follow through on what I was already talking about. It's early days and might not even materialise."
"How long are we talking about?"
"About a year, nothing immediately."
"Look, if you've genuinely changed your mind about the freelancing from home thing…"
"You know what? Forget it, yeah? We can discuss this any time for ages yet. I just want to spend time with you for now, okay?"
"Finally something we agree on!" Samantha said, kissing him lightly.
"So," Pete said coyly, fiddling with the buttons on Samantha's shirt, "how do you suppose I could make things up to you?"
"Oh, I'm sure I could think of a few things (!)" Samantha grinned.
Back to Chapter XII
Go to Chapter XIV
© 2004 Clare Benton
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