I put the car in drive and pull back onto the highway.
We don't speak for the rest of the drive. My mother stares out the window, lost in her own thoughts. I focus on the road, on the mechanical act of driving, because if I think too hard about what she just told me, I'll fall apart.
17. Jamie
Laura recommended the medical center.
"They're known for discretion," she said, which is a polite way of saying they cater to people who need their medical care kept out of the tabloids. Politicians' mistresses. Celebrities managing addictions. Journalists who got knocked up by the sons of political dynasties.
I fit right in.
Akari sits beside me, flipping through a magazine about interior design that's two years out of date. She's taken the morning off work for this, same as she's taken time off for every appointment since I told her I was pregnant. I don't know what I'd do without her. I try not to think about it.
"You're jiggling your leg," she says without looking up.
I stop. Start again almost immediately. "Sorry."
"Nervous?"
"No." Yes. "Maybe."
She sets down the magazine and looks at me properly. "It's just a scan. You've had scans before."
"I know."
"The twenty-week scan was fine. The baby's healthy. This is just a check-up."
"I know."
It's not really the scan I'm nervous about. It's everything else.
I'm six months pregnant, and I still haven't fully wrapped my head around it. My body has changed in ways I wasn't preparedfor. The swell of my belly is now impossible to hide. My lower back aches and I feel like I’m constantly waddling instead of walking. The baby is only six months along, but he’s going to be a monster. I look ready to pop.
I've read all the books, downloaded all the apps, done everything I'm supposed to do, but there's still a part of me that feels like I'm playing pretend, like any moment someone's going to tap me on the shoulder and tell me there's been a mistake.
"Jamie Dean?"
I look up. A nurse in scrubs is standing in the doorway, smiling pleasantly.
"That's me."
Akari squeezes my hand as I stand. "I'll be right here."
The sonographer is a calm woman with grey-streaked braid and a warm handshake.
"How are we feeling today?"
"Fine." The automatic answer. "Tired, but fine."
"Tired is normal at this stage. Let's take a look, shall we?"
I lie back on the bed and lift my shirt. My belly rises above me like a small planet, the skin stretched tight. I still find it strange to look at. This body used to be mine and now it belongs to someone else too.
The gel is warm, thank God. The sonographer moves the wand across my stomach, and the screen beside the bed flickers to life.
There's my baby.
I've seen the images before, but it still hits me every time.
