Chapter 146

“Hello, I’m Dr. Kevorkian – no relation.”  The somewhat disheveled doctor entered, eyes randomly scanning the procedure room in search of something.

Allegra lay on the table in the middle of the room, her belly exposed in preparation for the amniocentesis.  Richie was on her left side and Dot was on her right, which was fortunate, because the forceful jabs they landed on her shoulders would at least leave matching bruises.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dot bent to hiss in her ear.

But Allegra didn’t hear, because Richie was busy saying, “No way in hell.  We’re out of here.”

“Both of you hush, before he hears.”

Although that didn’t seem to be a viable concern, seeing as he was already carrying on a conversation – with himself. 

“Bloody hell, where could it have gone?  I had it only a moment ago.”  His distraction briefly dissolved and he looked point-blank at Allegra.  “You haven’t found a pork belly sandwich lying about have you?”

She was torn between mortification and amusement.  If this man hadn’t been about to shove a pointy object within inches of her baby, she would be rolling in the floor with laughter, because obviously this was some kind of sick joke.  Who gave a man like this a license to practice medicine?

Then a light bulb went off over Allegra’s head.  They didn’t have an appointment with anybody named Kevorkian.  She would have remembered that.  It was something else – something that reminded her of I Love Lucy.  Oh yes…

“No, I can’t say that I have.  Umm…  Not to be rude, Dr. Kevorkian, but we were expecting Dr. Frawley.”

William Frawley was the actor who played Fred Mertz in the old I Love Lucy reruns.  In her younger years, Allegra had loved Lucy and Ricky and the gang.

“Hmm?”  Instruments rattled when the drawer he was rifling slammed closed.  He then methodically moved through each of the cabinets in search of the elusive pork belly.  “Oh, Frawley.  Yes, yes.  He’ll be along shortly, I imagine.”

Thank you Jesus.

“So you’re not performing the procedure?”  It may have been overkill, but Allegra was grateful that Dot wasn’t leaving any assumptions hanging in the air.

“What?”  He pulled his head from a cupboard, nearly giving himself a concussion on the open door.  “Me?  Heavens, no!  I’m a pathologist.  I merely analyze the results,” he informed them before resorting back to muttering.  “Well, it’s obviously not here.  Maybe in the loo…”

With that, he meandered out much as he’d meandered in.  The door swung shut behind him, and they all heaved a collective sigh of relief before bursting into nervous laughter.

“Seriously, Allegra.  I don’t know about this.  Can’t it wait until we get back?  If this is absolutely necessary, I’d rather have Dr. Shively doing it.  It’s only another four days.”

“Richie’s right.” 

Allegra should have been surprised that Dot was agreeing with him, but ever since seeing the ring, Richie had been removed from her shit list.  Impressed with his selection, she’d grudgingly told him, “You did good.  I expected you to get some God awful monstrosity that Allegra would look and feel ridiculous wearing, but you actually managed to hit a happy medium between flashy and tasteful.”

Which was just fine, but it was her stomach that was going be poked like a voodoo doll, and she was a little bit scared and eager to have it done and gone. 

“You two can just get over it.  I want this over with already.  You heard him.  Quacky McQuackerson isn’t going to be performing the procedure, and I’m sure Dr. Frawley is perfectly competent, or Dr. Shively wouldn’t have recommended him.”

Dot and Richie locked eyes above her head, which irritated her.  Then Dot said in a talk-the-crazy-person-off-the-ledge voice, “Honey, you know that if they screw this up, you could lose the baby?”

“I’m aware of that,” she snapped.  “But I’m also tired of being scared about the whole thing.  The procedure could go wrong, the test results could be something I don’t want to hear – a million scary things surround this stupid amnio.  I want it behind me.”

Richie’s hand cradled the back of her neck, rubbing in circles.  “Shh…  Don’t get all upset.  We’ll meet this guy and see what he’s like before making a decision.  Okay?”

A sharp rap on the door preceded the entry of an older, very distinguished looking gentleman.  “Good day!  I’m Dr. Frawley and I understand we’re going to be performing some amniotic testing for you today,” he said cheerfully, shaking hands with each of them.  “Are there any questions before we begin?”

“Yes, actually.”  Trust Dot to be the one to step forward first.  “How many amniocentesis procedures have you done?”

“Oh dear, I’m afraid I couldn’t begin to tell you,” he chuckled.  “I began practicing around, oh say 1981, and I’ve performed at least two a week since then.”

That was a whole lot of needling in Allegra’s book.  He wouldn’t still be doing it if he’d been screwing up two a week since the early eighties.

“Have you done this to a patient more than once?”  Richie took his turn.

“What?  You mean in subsequent pregnancies?”  The doctor appeared to be a bit befuddled by the interrogation.  “Why, I suppose I have on at least a few occasions.  Is there some sort of problem that I should be aware of?”

Allegra decided she should take the chance to speak up before her two guardians did it less tactfully. “Your… colleague had us a bit concerned.”

“Colleague?”  His gray eyebrows drew into a puzzled frown.  “Ohhh!  You mean Kevorkian!”  He laughed out loud.  “Yes, I fancied that I saw him dart out of here a moment ago.  Please don’t be alarmed.  Quite the brilliant pathologist, hands-on care is not his forte.  He’s admittedly a bit dodgy with patients, but set lab reports and blood samples before him and he’s truly astounding.”

He seemed like a perfectly reasonable medical professional, with a perfectly reasonable explanation for the psycho quack who had wandered through earlier.  Allegra was willing to accept him and his explanations.

“That works out well then,” she approved with a smile, shooting a look at the other two, daring them to contradict her.  “I’m ready to get started whenever you are.”

Both remained silent, but exchanged a look of understanding over her head.  If this guy made one misstep, they wouldn’t hesitate to stop the procedure by whatever means necessary.  Allegra huffed and rolled her eyes at both of them, and bared her tummy per the doctor’s instructions.

Fortunately, it was a seamless execution from what Allegra could tell.  Seamless, but painful.  From the local anesthetic to the actual procedure itself, she tried to fight it, but instincts had her trying to squirm away from the needle.  And, naturally, the only order she’d been given to follow was ‘stay very still’.  So sayeth the doctor who likely never had his testicles aspirated.

All in all, it probably only took about five minutes.  Needle in, syringe filled, needle out.  Dr. Frawley indicated that everything had gone very smoothly and thanked Allegra for her full cooperation in ensuring that.  He just gave Richie a pitying look.

Things had become a little bit iffy in the instant that the needle pierced the skin of her tummy.  Richie’s grip on her hand went slack for just a second, and she thought she heard him moan.  Allegra glanced up to find his face ashen, and she could have sworn that Dot snorted.

He did manage to pull it together before he did something totally embarrassing, like pass out on the floor, but his renewed grip nearly crushed her hand.  After that, he kept his attention further up her body, murmuring words of encouragement and repeatedly stroking her hair. 

Other than that, it was spectacularly uneventful and they were back at the hotel within the hour, ordering room service.  The doctor didn’t expect there to be any ill effects from the procedures, but Allegra had been instructed to spend the remainder of the day lying down and resting. 

If she experienced light cramping, Dr. Frawley instructed that she have a glass of wine, as the alcohol was supposed to have a relaxing effect on the uterine muscles.  He did caution that if the cramps were severe, or if there was bleeding, to seek medical attention immediately.

So far so good, she thought, sinking against a mountain of cushions on one of the suite’s sofas.  No cramping so far and all she had to do was wait for the test results to come in. Next week they would know that the baby was healthy, and have proof that Richie was the father.  Allegra refused to believe that it could be any different.  Her fairy tale ending was long overdue, and the ring on her hand all but convinced her that she was finally on the right path.  A healthy Sambora baby had to be in the cards.

“Sunshine?”  Richie tucked the phone under his chin.  “Do you feel up to some company?  Dave and Tico want to stop by and congratulate us.”  Rolling his eyes, he spoke back into the receiver.  “Shut up, Lemma.  It’s not a cheap-ass ring.”

“Let him come check it out for himself,” she laughed, blue eyes twinkling. 

Richie couldn’t help but grin back at her as he invited the guys over and hung up.  There was an immediate pounding on the suite door.

“What? Were they waiting in the hall?” Allegra joked.

Swooping down for a kiss, he flashed his dimples.  “Nah, it’s probably room service.”

“What the hell?” Jon demanded as soon as the door cracked.  Crossing the threshold, he slapped Richie on the back with a mile-wide grin that belied his aggravated words.  “You go and get engaged and don’t tell me?  What kinda respect is that?”

“You must’ve been busy admiring yourself in the mirror when I called.”

“Fuck you, Sambora.  You know I can’t see my reflection when I’m on tour.  My inner vampire is unleashed.”  He bared his teeth with a hiss.  “Now where’s my babydoll?”

“I’m over here on the couch, you nutcase,” she called from across the room.  “God , how does Dot put up with you?”

“Same way you put up with this guy,” he told her, bending forward to plop a kiss on her forehead.  “With a little patience and a whole lotta attitude.”  Jon planted his backside on the coffee table.  “So do you like the ring?  Do I need to twist his arm so that he’ll pony up something better?”

“Screw you Kidd,” Richie popped off as he went to answer the latest bout of knocking at the door.  “I’m pretty sure she loves it, thank you very much.”

Jon arched a skeptical brow and looked back and forth between the two of them.  “Pretty sure?  What the hell is that?  If you couldn’t tell for a fact, then you done screwed up, big boy.”

“Stop it,” Allegra laughed.  “There isn’t a ring in the world that I’d rather have.  It’s perfect.” 

Richie gave Jon a smug ‘so there’ look, before turning the knob to invite insanity – otherwise known as David – and Tico into the room.  Breezing by without a word, David all but ignored him, making a direct line for Allegra.  Tico, however, showed that he was immeasurably more couth and shook Richie’s hand with warm congratulations.

“Legs, baby!”  David kissed her cheek and squatted down next to Jon.  One well executed hip check sent him sliding across the coffee table, making room for David to sit close to Allegra.

“Dammit, Lemma!”

“Quiet down, I have important business,” David informed him with a scowl while scrambling in his front pocket.

“You’re a rude motherfucker,” Richie observed, sitting at the end of the sofa, sliding under Allegra’s feet and settling them in his lap.  Tico claimed one of the armchairs, head shaking with amusement.  Or was that embarrassment?

Never one to let an insult go unanswered, David drew himself up and gave a haughty toss of his head.  “Hello, Lord of the Manor,” he offered in a stilted British accent.  “If it meets with your jolly good approval, might I have a moment to bring well wishes to m’lady?”  Then he snorted and waved his hand negligently, reverting back to his Jersey dialect.  “Now fuck off.”

Allegra wondered, as always, at the inner workings of David’s mind.  Every time she tried to fathom it, she got a mental image of a carnival.  What else could it be?  He came up with the most random and unexpected dialog, all in search of a laugh.  But an instant later, everyone went quiet, his hard-earned laughter disintegrating into stunned silence when he put his fist to his eye and picked up Allegra’s left hand. 

He had affixed a jeweler’s eyepiece to his eye and was critically inspecting her engagement ring.  “Good color, nice cut….”

Jon was the first to recover from the shock, letting loose with a booming cackle that echoed off the walls.  The others, including Richie, immediately joined in suit while Allegra concentrated on extracting her ring from his grasp.

“You are a rude mother,” she paraphrased Richie, shaking her finger in stern reprimand.

“Hey,” he defended himself.  “I gotta make sure this chunk of glass is worthy of you.  My girl won’t be sporting any back alley knockoff!”

Good-natured insults flew back and forth among the men, and Allegra took the opportunity to look around the room and bask in the (somewhat strange) love they shared with one another – and her.  Life had dealt her some difficult and unusual hands as of late, but being in the heart of the Bon Jovi family made it all okay.  She was truly blessed.

Resting a light hand over the baby, she stole a glance at Richie, who was absently rubbing her feet while butting heads with The Joker.  His eyes were sparkling and he wore the grin that was labeled too big for ‘good’ pictures – the one that sucked you in with its genuineness and made you want to laugh along with him.

It warmed her heart.  Allegra would consider her job as a fiancée and wife well done if she could see Richie this happy more often than not.

Subtly, she swiped at her misty eyes, content in the knowledge she had at least one thing up her sleeve that should make him smile. 

She couldn’t wait to give him his birthday gift.