Jean -- Hot and Crazy

Jean - Hot and Crazy

Chapter 6: Will She Pay the Piper?

This story takes place in the summer of 1972 before cell phones, computers, or the Internet.

#

I hugged Jean tight. She had tears streaming down her cheeks.

"How late?"

"Six days."

I was pretty ignorant about women's periods. All I knew was that they always came at the worst time. One of my previous girlfriends had painful, debilitating periods. Jean's periods had come like clockwork every 28 days when she was on the pill. Now that she was off the pill, I had no idea what to expect.

"Is that a lot?"

"Yes, I think so."

"I don't understand. Don't you know?"

"Well, I got regular periods when I was on the pill, but before I took birth control, my periods varied all over the place. Once, I had a 34-day period right after a 22-day one. Now, I have no idea what to think since I had to stop taking my prescription because my blood pressure was through the roof. I stopped in the middle of my period with eight pills left."

"Have you talked to your doctor?"

"I called my gynecologist. He said there was a chance I might skip a period because I came off the pill, but he wanted me to come in for a pregnancy test and a full workup. I have an appointment at Fifty-Fingers in nine days."

Her statement left me full of questions. My first one was just plain dumb. "Fifty-Fingers?"

Jean rolled her eyes. "Seriously, that's what you want to know about? Fine! There are only five gynecologists in Ithaca, and they all work out of the old medical building on State Street. Every woman in town knows them as Fifty-Fingers."

When I still looked confused, she said, "Each doctor has ten fingers, and there are five of them. You're the brilliant scientist. Do the multiplication."

I winced at her sarcasm and asked the question that I was avoiding. "You said there's a chance that getting off the pill is responsible for missing your period. How big of a chance is the doctor talking about?"

Jean sighed. "He said he wasn't sure, but it might be ten to twenty percent."

"I guess we keep our fingers crossed. I don't understand why we have to wait nine days."

"He said the pregnancy test is more reliable fourteen days after the day you expected your period. If you're not pregnant, your estrogen levels will peak around that time because you will be close to ovulating. That makes it easier to differentiate between being pregnant or nonpregnant."

Waiting was hell for both of us. Jean spent weeknights at her mother's house as usual. On weekends, neither of us slept well, and our sex life was nonexistent. Even so, I was happy when she arrived at my apartment the following weekend. It was only a week after she told me she might be pregnant. Jean elbowed me in the middle of the night and said she needed to talk. She still hadn't gotten her period, and she was growing more anxious by the day. I'd just fallen asleep after a hard day in the laboratory, and my brain was on fire.

Jean said, "You know it's not yours, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The baby I'm carrying. It's either Jacob's or Brad's baby."

"Jean, we don't even know if you're pregnant yet. It's too early to be worrying about who's the father."

"Steve, I just know that I'm pregnant."

"How do you know that?"

"A woman just knows."

"Jean, that's what the test is for. Please, relax, and for the love of God, try to get some sleep."

"Steve, don't you dare go to sleep on me. We need to talk about what happens after I have the baby."

"Jean, we still don't know if you are pregnant, but there are options if you are."

"I've thought about them already. I'll put the baby up for adoption if it's Brad's baby. I called Jacob today, and he agreed to marry me if it's his."

My blood was boiling. Of course, Jacob would love to marry my hot girlfriend. "Jean, Hell no. If you're pregnant, I'll happily marry you and raise the baby as my own. I don't care who's the biological father."

"I couldn't ask you to raise Brad's baby. Deep down, you would resent the child. It wouldn't be fair to you or the baby. If it's Jacob's baby, it's only fair to the child if his natural father raises him."

I wasn't happy with either of Jean's choices. In either case, I would lose the woman I loved.

"If you're pregnant, I think you need to consider the option you keep ignoring. Pregnancy poses risks to the mother, and I don't think it's worth it if you're not going to keep the baby. Besides, carrying a baby for nine months will make college impossible. You know it's now legal to get an abortion in the United States."

"Steven, you keep forgetting I'm a Christian girl. I won't murder my unborn baby."

I tried arguing with her but finally gave up.

"Jean, at least let me accompany you to the gynecologist."

"Steve, what's the point? You can't come into the examination room, and I'm sure not going to let you watch me pee into a cup."

I remember staring at the ceiling until it was time to get up. Our relationship continued to decline. When I called Jean at home, her mother hung up on me without saying anything.

I was surprised when Jean called me the night before her exam. "Steve, I've changed my mind. I'd like you to come with me to the exam."

"OK, that's great. When do you want me to pick you up?"

"How about 3:30?"

"I'll be there. What made you change your mind?"

Jean didn't reply for what seemed like an eternity. I knew she hadn't hung up because I could hear her breathing.

"Jean, are you OK?"

"Yes, I'm fine. It's probably not a big deal, but they're renovating the medical building. It's the big contract that Randy was celebrating with his crew. I'm nervous that they'll harass me. I doubt they would be dumb enough to try anything physical on a busy street in the middle of the day. I'd like you there for moral support."

"Thanks for the heads up. I think you'll be fine, but I'll be happy to come with you."

The next day was one of those Central New York days when it was so hot and humid that even dogs didn't want to go outside. By two in the afternoon, the air was so thick and hazy that you couldn't see more than a few blocks. I wished I had air conditioning in my car, but at least I'd had the windows repaired, and I could roll them down.

Jean surprised me when she greeted me at the door, wearing her favorite hot weather outfit, cutoff jeans, and a light halter top. She'd converted some old hole-ridden jeans into tiny shorts that showed the white pockets hanging below. If that wasn't suggestive enough, one of the side seams had separated up to the waistband, and a safety pin held the sides together. Jean had washed the white cotton halter top so often that the threadbare fabric had lost shape. The thin cotton did little to conceal the shape of her nipples. Jean wasn't aware that one could see most of the sides of her plump breasts.

I stared at all of Jean's exposed flesh for a moment before I got up the nerve to comment. Our relationship was on such shaking grounds recently that I wouldn't have said a word if it wasn't for my concerns about her safety.

"I've always loved that outfit, but are you sure you want to wear something this revealing to your appointment?"

"Steve, it's too bloody hot to think. I should be fine. The only issue is the short walk from the parking lot into the office. I talked to a friend last night after her visit to Fifty-Fingers yesterday. She said the fencing around the building hides you from the construction workers. I shouldn't have to wait long in reception. Once I enter the exam room, they'll make me strip down and wear one of those stupid paper gowns. They'll make me wait forever, shivering in an air-conditioned exam room before my gynecologist comes in and sees how many cold stainless-steel instruments he can cram in my vagina. He'll finish with his game of 'Guess how many fingers I have in your vagina."

We got to the medical building early and sat in my car momentarily, looking for the entrance. Jean's friend was right about the fencing, but today, there was scaffolding on the sides of the building, and I saw a couple of men on it. Finally, we saw a hand-painted sign indicating a path into the facility next to a prominent sign that read, 'Randy Waits Construction.'

I took a deep breath and got out to hold open the car door for Jean. She held my hand tight as we walked through a narrow pathway. There was one right-angle turn to reach the front door. Just before we got inside, I looked up and caught the eye of someone on the scaffolding who looked familiar. The asshole flipped us the bird while I tried to remember where I'd seen him.

Jean and I made small talk while we sat in the waiting room. The receptionist said our doctor was running behind because of an emergency at the hospital. It was after 4:30 when Jean was given a specimen cup and directed to a lavatory to provide a urine sample. When she returned, we still had to wait 45 minutes before the nurse took Jean to an exam room. She put on a show for me as she wiggled her ass on her way out of the room. Damn, I loved how her cutoff jeans left the bottoms of her ass cheeks exposed.

I waited patiently, trying not to think about what Jean was going through. The receptionist left through a back entrance at 5:30 sharp. I fidgeted in my seat for a while before suddenly remembering who the guy on the scaffolding was. The last time I'd seen him, the ugly bastard was screaming outside my car window while his boss battered Jean's window with a rock. He looked different when his face wasn't distorted with rage. I didn't want to think about what would happen if he told Randy he'd seen Jean. I didn't know that it made a difference. Randy could easily look up Jean's mother's address in the phone book. Besides, I hoped Jean's high school boyfriend wouldn't be dumb enough to do anything in public.

The waiting room was empty when Jean came out at 6:20. I stood up and said, "Well, are you pregnant?"

Jean said, "The doctor said I should assume I'm pregnant until the test results are available in ten to fifteen business days."

"Why so long?"

"They have to ship the urine sample to a laboratory in New Jersey. It depends on how backed up they are."

"Oh great, they'll leave us hanging for another couple of weeks. What do we do in the meantime?"

"Well, in case I'm not pregnant, you need to use a condom if we have sex. Especially the next few days when I could be at the height of my fertility."

"Should I take you home, or do you want to stay at my place tonight? I'd love to take you to dinner and get us both drunk."

"Steve, I'd love to have dinner with you, but I can't drink if I'm pregnant."

"OK, I'll get drunk, and you can drive us home."

I tried the door the receptionist used when she left but found it locked.

"Steve, that's the wrong door."

"Sorry, I thought it might be safer leaving by the back. I recognized the guy on the scaffolding as one of Randy's friends from the bar. He gave us the finger when we entered."

"Of course, all the workers outside are Randy's friends, but they should be done for the day. I imagine they're all at a bar drinking by now."

I wrapped my arm around Jean's bare waist and walked out the front entrance with my girlfriend. I was happy to see that the scaffolding was deserted. When we turned the corner in the path, I noticed that my car was the only one in the parking lot. I breathed a sigh of relief too soon. A familiar white van screeched to a halt at the end of the fenced corridor. I looked behind us and saw two burly construction workers following us.

I yelled, "Run!"

I thought we had a chance until a muscular guy got out of the front seat of the battered van and blocked our way. It was the asshole who had given us the finger from the scaffolding. He was soon joined by a couple of burly friends who got out of the sliding door and left it open.

Jean said, "Mike, you don't want to do this."

"Oh, Hell yeah, I do. Randy told me to bring you to his place for the party you fuck heads ducked out on. Now get your God damn butts in the van before I have to get rough."

Jean yelled, "Fuck you, asshole," and tried to run around him.

I thought she had made it when Mike casually reached out and grabbed the strap across the back of her halter top. The bastard used her momentum to spin her around in the air. I heard the strap snap, and she landed shrieking in a pile at his feet. Jean covered her bare breasts and screamed for help as she struggled to her knees. Mike grabbed Jean by her ponytail and shoved the remains of her flimsy top in her mouth to shut her up. He laughed while she continued to fight when he casually tossed her over his shoulder. I rushed forward to rescue her and received a sharp punch in the face that put me on the ground, stunned with blood gushing from my broken nose.