A/N: Hey all, sorry this took so long. I just got sorta busy, I guess. Anyway before we begin I want to say something so there's no confusion. Greg is not Jamie's father. I know you are going to assume he is because he's with Tess, he's not. Okay? Okay. Also, sorry that I had two chapters so close together in the story in a row, but I really wanted to write a scene where Greg and Tess talked names.
Enjoy and Review, please.
-LLK
July 3, 1999. 9:33 PM; EST
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They sat awkwardly, side by side, in the tattered and under stuffed gray waiting room chairs. Each one seemingly piled closer and closer together as they glanced down and studied stale magazines and old diagrams on the wall. Each picture depicting a different stage of fetal development, each one seeming more dated than the last. The seventies era pinks and blues that decorated the walls seemed more like a bad omen than a reminder of a joyous occasion.
Tess felt Greg's weight shift on the chair next to her as he leaned forward and scooped up the only baby name book that didn't match the two decade old feel of the whole establishment. It had been abandoned by the woman beside him when she stood to go in for her appointment. Tess glanced around the room accidentally making eye contact with a middle aged couple and their very pregnant teenage daughter. She flipped her copy of People closed and reached for another issue.
"We'll let the fates decide," Greg said, flipping aimlessly through the book, he let it fall open to a random page. "Gerald, Grant, Grayson, Gregory—see, see! I told you you should name him after me!"
"I'm not naming him Gregory," she argued, snatching the book from him and studying the page. "What about Grayson? Do you like that? Grayson Harlow..."
"It has a ring, I guess," Greg said scrunching up his face in pretend disgust. "But you know what would sound even better? Gregory Harlow. Now that sings."
"I already told you Greg," her voice dripped in frustration, more than she'd intended to let on. "I am not gonna name this baby after you. Besides, who says it's even gonna be a boy anyway?"
"I do," his voice was playful, annoyingly so. She didn't want to be there, she didn't want to be doing this—talking baby names. She was nineteen and had just finished her second year at Yale, she wasn't supposed to be having a baby. Greg leaned over and stuck his finger to the page she was looking at, "I'd be okay with you calling my nephew Grant."
"You don't get a say in this," she spat, pushing him off of her and away from the book. "This is my kid and I'll call her whatever I want."
"Who says it's a her?"
"Greg," she warned. "I'm not exactly in the mood for one of your games. My baby, my decision."
"You're just mad because I made you come to the doctor."
"You think?" She asked in the most arrogant, annoying, teenager tone she could possibly manage. "I don't see why you made me waste my day doing this. It's not like being pregnant is gonna kill me or anything."
"It's just good to make sure everything is okay," he explained. "You have to go to the doctor to make sure that the baby is healthy and that your body is handling the pregnancy the way it's supposed to. I honestly can't believe you didn't come sooner, that was really reckless of you."
"I'm not perfect all the time," she pointed out. She knew that the only real reason she'd taken so long to go was because she was still in a sort of denial. She didn't want to be pregnant--not that she didn't already love her child but she just wasn't ready to be a mom, yet.
She could tell by the look on Greg's face that he was going to make some sort of smart comment but he was interrupted when a nurse invited "Mr. and Mrs. Harlow" to the back.
"It's Miss Harlow," Tess corrected the woman. "I'm not married."
"Do you want me to come or stay here?" Greg asked, half standing half still sitting. "I mean, I'm okay with whatever you want."
"Come," even she could hear how child-like her voice had sounded.
Greg cleared his throat and grabbed their jackets and Tess' purse, following closely behind her and the doctor. Tess made eye contact with him and reached out for his hand, squeezing it as the walked. It was the first time she and Greg had ever actually met in person. He was still living in New York but they had never made the time or effort to actually visit with one another in a personal setting. As they both had stated several times in the past couple of years of friendship, their friendship was just fine the way it was.
What had prompted this meeting was Tess' assertion that she wouldn't go to the OB-GYN without him there—thinking he'd never come. Greg had just been given a new job in Las Vegas as a DNA technician for the crime lab, and would be leaving in august as soon as he finished a final summer seminar. Tess really didn't want to go to the doctor, but she'd hated the idea of Greg leaving before they had a proper meeting even more.
"So," the nurse asked, obviously being nosy. "You two gonna get married?"
"Uh," Tess coughed. "No."
"I'm not the father," Greg corrected the woman. "We're just friends."
"Oh you're telling tall tales boy," she accused him. "Ain't no way."
