I suddenly see the flailing of a limb. “He’s kicking!”
“Wow,” Zack murmurs.
The doctor grins. “Looks like he’s going for a field goal.”
We watch for moment, then he removes the transducer and turns off the machine. “Take it easy over the weekend. Stay in bed as much as possible, try not to worry, and see your obstetrician on Monday.” He hands me some tissues. “Everything looks really good.”
“Oh, thank heavens!” I feel like I can finally take a full breath. A heady sense of relief chases through my veins. “That’s great news.”
“The best,” Zack says. He’s still holding my hand, and he squeezes it.
My heart squeezes as well.
The doctor makes some notes on his computer. I wipe the gel off my belly, adjust my clothes, and sit up. The doctor shakes our hands and wishes us luck.
Zack helps me off the examination table. “Let’s get you home.”
Home—where his wife is waiting for us. The thought dampens my happiness, but I smile and nod.
The checkout procedure spares me from having to make small talk. I sit by the ER door as Zack pulls my car around. It’s raining outside. He parks under the portico, gets out, and opens the door for me.
“It was worth a three-hour wait to hear that everything looks good,” he says as he climbs in and fastens his seat belt.
“Yes.” I have less than complete confidence in the ER doctor’s obstetrics expertise, but it was reassuring to see the baby move and hear the heartbeat. I feel emotional and drained and on the verge of tears. As Miss Margaret would say, I’m on the Edge of Wetness.
I lean back against the headrest. The situation is truly soap opera material. Everyone at the hospital thought Zack and I were a couple, when in reality, his wife is at my house, babysitting the child he had with my best friend. “You should probably text Jessica that we’re on the way.”
“I already did.”
So he, too, was thinking of her. Fat raindrops hit the windshield.
He turns on the wipers as he drives out of the covered entrance. “She texted back that she hasn’t heard a peep from Lily or Margaret.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Yeah.” He turns onto Jefferson Highway. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to sleep in your guest room tonight so I can hear if you need anything.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. After all, Jess just got here, and you and she... you probably want...” Oh, God. What am I trying to say? My eyes fill and my face burns.
He glances over at me. “Jess is staying at the hotel. Nothing has changed about our divorce.”
My heart skips a beat, then pounds hard. Joy neurons fire in my brain. I tamp them down.You can’t keep doing this, I think.You need to level out all these ups and downs. It’s not healthy for your baby.“I—I thought you two might be getting back together.”
“No. Our marriage is over. The truth is, it’s been over for a long while, but neither of us wanted to admit it. It’ll be final in about a month and a half.”
“That fast?”
He nods. “Washington is a very efficient state for uncontested divorces.”
“I’m sorry.” I sit there for a moment, watching the wipers slash back and forth. Under a streetlamp up ahead, I see a food truck parked against a building. As we drive by, I read the name on it:Spill the Beans.
Goose bumps rise on my arms. It’s a sign; I’m sure of it. I angletoward Zack, and words start pouring out of my mouth. “Actually, I’m not. I’m not sorry about your divorce at all. I just said that because it seemed appropriate.”
He laughs. “I love that about you—how up-front and outspoken you are.”
“I’m not. At least, not always.”
“No?”
