Krista and Brock followed her inside, where a bed sat under an overhead light,and beside it was a monitor, keyboard and chair. A television was perched up in the corner of the room with a blinking screen.
“On the bed, please,” the technician instructed.
Brock held out his hand, and Krista gave him a dubious look.
What the heck was his hand for?
“Do you need a hand up onto the bed?” he asked.
Damn, he was being so nice it was hard to stay mad at him, despite how pushy he was behaving. Making her ride with him, insisting they grab lunch. What was he trying to do? Date her?
Not that sheneededthe assistance, she took his hand anyway and allowed him to help her hop up onto the bed.
She did as she was directed, and before too long, the tech was swirling the wand around in the goop on Krista’s flat abdomen.
“We’re just going to check on baby’s size today,” the tech said. “Make sure of your due date and that there is only one in there.”
Krista’s eyes went wide, and her head snapped from the technician’s face to Brock’s. “Do twins run in your family?” she asked, her tone edged with panic.
He simply shook his head.
She let out a long, loud sigh of relief. “Mine either.”
Quietly, they both watched as the technician continued to move the wand around her stomach. And then suddenly, a worry so startling, so frightening took over.
What if the woman couldn’t find a heartbeat? What if there was no baby?
A lump harder than stone formed in Krista’s throat. It may not have been planned or with someone she loved or was committed to, but that baby had already become such a fixture in her life. In her mind. It couldn’t not be there.
“I-is there … ” she started, not sure she wanted to finish her question for fear of the answer.
Thump, thump, thump, thump …
Before she knew what was happening, Brock’s hand was on hers, squeezinguntil she wasn’t sure there was any blood left in her fingers.
“And that’s baby’s heartbeat. Strong and steady,” the technician said. She pointed to the screen perched up in the corner of the room. “And there’s baby.”
Brock and Krista glanced up at the television, where lo and behold, a little black and white bean-shaped thing sat twitching on the screen. You could already see the formation of eyes, head, arms and legs.
“Holy shit,” Krista whispered, her eyes getting wet.
Brock squeezed her hand even tighter. “Yeah.”
Chapter 5
“You feel like a burger?” Brock asked after the forty-minute ultrasound appointment that had left them both blissfully speechless and with a sleeve of black and white pictures with labels like “foot” and “hand” and “face.” Even though in reality they looked like no more than blurry blobs that could just as easily have been a giraffe or platypus fetus.
Eyes glued to the pictures, Krista nodded. “Sure, whatever.”
No more than a grunt. He held open the truck door for her, and she climbed in, her heart swelling and her mind spinning as she just continued to stare at the pictures.
“You tell work yet?” Brock asked, pulling out of the ultrasound clinic parking lot. “Should be switching to light duty. Desk shit.”
Slowly, she peeled her eyes away from her child. “No.”
“Tomorrow.”
“No.”
