“Did I miss anything?” he asks softly.
I shake my head and smile. “No. The ultrasound technician will be here in a second.”
He lowers onto the little stool near my exam chair. My friend is silent, his gaze fixed on the linoleum floor. He sits there with his leg bouncing and his face an unreadable mask.
I know Walker better than almost anyone in this world but sometimes even I have a hard time getting to the root of what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. Right now, as we’re waiting to see the first images of this baby that we made together, I just wish there were a way to climb into that head of his and find out exactly what’s going on in there.
A moment later, there’s a knock at the door. A beautiful woman with glowing brown skin, a radiant smile and a curly Afro sticks her head inside. “Good morning, folks. Sorry, we’re running a little late this morning. I’m Kim and I’m your ultrasound technician today.”
I extend a hand as the woman enters the room. “I’m Penny.” I smile. “This is Walker, my—”
“Baby daddy,” a husky voice supplies.
My head snaps over to him as he takes Kim’s outstretched hand.
“Oh my god, Walker…” I mumble and bury my face in my hands.
Awkward.
Kim doesn’t flinch. She just smiles. “Don’t blush, hun. Trust me—I’ve seen all kinds of arrangements in here.”
Walker pins me with an unapologetic look, silently communicating that he needs me to acknowledge his part in this. He’s reminding me that he’s not just a stranger on the periphery of this situation. Caution spools in my belly because I can’t tell where he could possibly be going with this.
It’s okay, Penny, I tell myself. It doesn’t mean anything. I’m just overanalyzing everything.
Kim chatters cheerfully as she fiddles with wands and gadgets and sets up the machine for the ultrasound.
Then, she squeezes a cool jelly onto my stomach and presses the head of the ultrasound wand to my bump. On the monitor, a grainy image takes form.
Instantly, I have tears in my eyes. One hand leaps to my mouth. “That’s my baby?” I choke back sobs.
Walker is holding my other hand. I glance at him and give him a squeeze. He’s grinning widely when our eyes connect and lock.
For a fraction of a second, I see my entire future unfolding in the depths of his honey eyes.
Quickly, I blink and turn my focus back to the monitor. I remind myself of our reality. Walker’s not a part of the future I envisioned for myself and my child.
Kim is tapping away at her keyboard and punching buttons on the monitor. She leans closer to the screen and squints.
My pulse increases at the furrowed look on her brow. I sit up in my chair. “Is there…is there a problem?” I bend closer to the monitor. Hell if I can make out the undulating blur of black and white on the screen but I don’t like that expression on her face. It makes me uneasy.
Please, lord—don’t let there be anything wrong with my baby.
Walker squeezes my hand tighter. When I peek at him, I see the concern on his own face.
“What is it, Kim?” I ask again.
Her eyes don’t leave the screen. “There are two heartbeats…”
Oh my god. An alien baby. I just knew I’d have an alien baby. I’m wailing on the inside.
Walker’s body lurches forward like he’s ready to jump into the screen and fix it, make it right. “What does that mean?”
Kim turns to us, her face stretching into a smile. Her eyes twinkle. “Guys, you're having twins.”
43
Penny
When we get back to the cabin, Walker goes off to catch up with his farm hands and I spend most of the day in bed. I check emails on my phone—two of my design clients backed out on me and another one didn’t pay his bill—but aside from that, I don’t have it in me to get work done or to eat or to make conversation.
I’m having twins.
Two babies to think about, two mouths to feed and two cute bums to diaper.
Everything seems so uncertain now. My plans seem to be cracking under the weight of this new reality. What if my business fizzles out? What if I can’t find a new job? Or an apartment? It feels like my whole life is falling apart.
I’m exhausted from my mind running a million miles per minute, spitting out dozens of different scenarios. Scenarios that all end in me failing miserably at this motherhood thing.
Late in the evening, I shower and change into one of Walker’s large button-up shirts and an old pair of thick leggings.
I’m worn out from the day. I don’t bother blow-drying my hair like I normally would before bed, and I leave my face clean and bare.
I pad out to the front porch, inhaling the fresh, cool air. Barefoot and pregnant, I think, smiling wistfully to myself.
I lower to the top step, pulling my wet, fiery hair over my shoulder. I stare out over the darkening fields as I tie it up in a messy bun to keep the wind from blowing it into my face. It’s just so peaceful out here. I try to embrace the quiet, let it wash over me, soothe the anxiety attacking me from all angles.
Twins…
I knew that multiples was a possibility when I started this impregnation journey. I just didn’t think it would happen for real, especially since I got pregnant the natural way. Every time I imagine what that will look like, I’m hit with alternating bursts of terror and awe. Of course, I’m insanely grateful for these babies. But I’m worried about money. I’m worried about balancing a new business with having two children to care for. I’m worried about my damn sanity.
The moon sits high in the night’s sky, ushering in a splattering of stars and rogue fireflies. It’s
