Dr. OB (St. Luke's Docuseries #1)

“Hi, Mrs. Kincaid,” Melody greeted, a caring hand to Esmeralda’s shoulder and genuine concern in her eyes. “What brings you down today? Have you had any prenatal care at all?”


Esmeralda shook her head, just slightly, embarrassed, and I glanced down at her bountiful stomach. I’d have to take a measurement to be sure, but she couldn’t have been less than six months along. That much time with no prenatal care was risky, to say the least.

“That’s okay. Don’t be ashamed, okay?” Melody comforted. “You care about your baby, we know that. That’s what brought you here today, right?”

The patient nodded, a tear dripping from the corner of her eye before she could dash it away. Melody pulled her into a hug immediately, whispering in her ear, “Don’t worry. We’re here for you now. And you’ve come to the very best place you could have. Dr. Cummings is the best, and he’s going to do absolutely everything he can to help you.”

God, I love her.

Her passion and completely genuine concern for these women shone out of her like an actual light.

These women needed her, and she needed somewhere to help them. I didn’t think I could make it happen on my own, but as I glanced up to the crowd and spotted not only my sister and Kline, but Thatch, Cassie, Wes, and Winnie, I knew I didn’t need to be able to.

I had fantastic friends in high places.





My fingers tapped gently yet determinedly against the keys as I finished typing up a few notes on my last patient follow-up call. The office had been empty for well over an hour, and I savored the peaceful silence while I checked off the final items of today’s to-do list.

This weekend’s event had been a huge success. It had imbued me with pride and purpose and filled the tiniest hole in me that still needed filling—Will had managed to fill the rest.

But as much as it filled my void, and as good as it felt, it only drove me harder. I needed to work harder, reach out more, help more women.

Once Syreeta Johnson’s chart was updated with our earlier conversation, I saved the file and crossed her name off the Post-it note of patients I needed to call. Before I could move on to the next, my phone vibrated across the table with a message from my mom.



Jazzercise Janet: Are you staying at Will’s tonight?



Me: I’m not sure, I’m still at work. Why?



Jazzercise Janet: Just wondering.



That was a little weird, but I’d learned from the age of thirteen not even to bother with questioning Janet on her reasons or motives. Most times, I didn’t want to know. And unfortunately for me, she appeared persistent on keeping this conversation going.



Jazzercise Janet: When do you think you’ll know?



Me: I don’t know, Mom. I’m still trying to finish up some patient calls before I leave for the night.



Jazzercise Janet: So…should I assume it’s a good possibility that you will be staying at Will’s tonight?



Call me crazy, but it seemed a lot like Janet wanted me out of the apartment for the evening…



Me: Do you want me to stay at Will’s tonight?



Jazzercise Janet: Would it make me a bad mother if I said yes?



Yep. She definitely wanted me gone for the night, and I sure as fuck did not want to know why. Traumatic past experiences taught me that it most likely involved my father without pants.



Me: Considering I’m twenty-nine years old, I don’t think so.



Jazzercise Janet: Okay, good. Could you stay at Will’s tonight, sweetie? I’d really like some alone time with your father.



Me: Sure, Mom. I’ll stay at Will’s.



Jazzercise Janet: Yay! Your father brought home this very sexy movie, and he’s going to be so excited we can watch it.



Ew. Gross. Sometimes it was truly a hardship having a mom who was so open and willing to tell you everything.



Me: Jesus, Mom. Let’s just end this conversation before it steers to places I don’t want to know anything about.



Jazzercise Janet: Pornography is a very healthy, sexual expression and outlet, Melody. It isn’t anything to be ashamed about.



Me: OMG. Goodbye, Mom.



Note to self: Move out of Bill and Janet’s ASAP.

Even though I stayed at Will’s a lot, I really needed to get my own place. If anything, it was a backup plan. A safe house. A place far, far away from walking in on Bill and Janet enjoying very sexy movie time. That was for sure one sight I did not want to witness.

Note to self: Schedule apartment showings ASAP.

I glanced at the time on my phone and saw that it was already half past six. The office was a complete ghost town, and I still had one more patient call I wanted to make before I left for the night.

Shit. I had to get moving if I wanted to be out of here before seven.

I pulled up Bethany Hyland’s contact information and tapped the call button.

“Melody,” she greeted with a smile in her voice. “I had a feeling you’d be checking up on me today.”

The happiness in her tone had me grinning ear to ear. “How did your appointment with the specialist go?”

“It went really, really well,” she answered, and I immediately breathed out a sigh of relief.

Bethany was twenty-six weeks into her pregnancy, and at her last ultrasound, we’d found a concerning spot on her baby’s heart. We had to refer her to a Maternal-Fetal Medicine Specialist for further testing, but unfortunately for Bethany, her insurance was barely covering the additional expenses an evaluation like that would cost. And in her case, it was either go to the specialist or use the money to put food on the table for her family. Times had been hard for her family after her husband lost his job.

But after numerous phone calls and a lot of persistence, I’d managed to convince Dr. Wilton, a physician Will worked closely with on difficult cases that required extensive monitoring of the baby throughout pregnancy, to take on her case pro bono.

“What did Dr. Wilton say?” I asked, too curious to wait for the final report to come in from their office.

“She said that she has no current concerns and she doesn’t think we have anything to worry about, but she wanted to follow me for the rest of my pregnancy,” she explained. “Dr. Wilton was so kind, Melody. I’m so thankful you were able to find her for us. Sometimes, I wonder if you’re an actual angel. I’m not sure you’ll ever know how grateful I am for what you’ve done for me and my baby.”

My heart grew inside my chest, and tears pricked my eyes at her kind words.

“I do know, Bethany,” I said through the emotion clogging my throat. “And I’m so very happy your appointment with Dr. Wilton went so well today.”

“Me too.”

“Well, I’m going to head out of the office for the night, but I’ll see you next week at your appointment with Dr. Cummings.”

“Thanks again, Melody,” she said.

“You’re very welcome. Have a good night, okay?”