“Okay,” Dr. Montgomery said, pointing to the ultrasound screen. “And… that’s your baby.”
Miles squinted at the screen. He didn’t see anything at all. He was familiar enough with ultrasounds to know that people usually had trouble distinguishing the images, but he hadn’t expected it to be this difficult. The truth was, there was a part of him that had imagined he would be different. That because this was his baby, he’d see it right away.
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Chelsea asked. Miles was immediately relieved. She didn’t see it either. So, he wasn’t failing the first test of fatherhood.
The doctor smiled and traced something with her finger. “Right here,” she said. “I know it doesn’t look like much yet, but that’s the baby. You’re only a couple of weeks in, so there isn’t much to see yet, but just you wait. Every time you come for a scan, it’s going to look more and more like a real human.”
Chelsea sighed. “I can’t see it,” she said, and her voice was small.
The urge to comfort her was swift and powerful. “Don’t worry,” Miles said, forgetting the awkwardness he’d felt when they had arrived. “I’m not seeing it either. But we’ll get Dr. Montgomeryto outline it for us when we get a printout, so we’ll be able to find it later.” He turned to the doctor. “We can do that, right?”
“Sure, we can,” she agreed, putting the ultrasound probe away. “I’ll print this out for you right now. And how have you been feeling?” she asked Chelsea. “Any unusual symptoms? Any concerns you want to discuss?”
“No,” Chelsea said. “Except… I haven’t been sleeping as well as I usually do. Is that related?”
“You haven’t?” Miles felt concern spiking.
She glanced at him. “It’s not… typical for me to be up in the middle of the night,” she said. “Usually I sleep like a log, but lately… I don’t know if it’s physiological, or if it’s just that I have a lot on my mind.”
“It could be either one,” the doctor said gently. “If it’s troubling you, I can recommend some herbal remedies and soothing practices, but I’m hesitant to prescribe anything. It might not be good for the baby.”
“No, I know,” Chelsea agreed. “I don’t want to take that risk either. I just wondered if there was anything I could do… or if I should be worried about it.”
“I wouldn’t worry,” Dr. Montgomery said. “I’ll write up a list of recommendations for you.” She smiled. “The two of you should be very happy. It looks to me as if everything is coming along perfectly.”
“This seemslike one of those things every man should know how to do,” Miles grumbled. “But I’m hopeless.”
Two months had passed since the first ultrasound, and in that time, he and Chelsea had managed to put their near-kiss behind them… for the most part. They no longer found it difficult to be in a room together. In fact, they had been in the room they were converting to the nursery all day. Miles had taken the day off work specifically to help with this project.
Now he was supposed to be setting up the baby’s crib, which Chelsea had ordered from a furniture store that required customers to put the furniture together themselves. Miles couldn’t see the point of the exercise. It would have made much more sense to order a crib that was already in one piece. But she’d done it without consulting him, and he wasn’t going to tell her to send the thing back.
She knelt beside him. “Let me do that,” she offered, taking the hex key from his hand. “I’ve built dozens of these kinds of things. It doesn’t have to be a man’s job.” She examined the screw he’d been driving in. “Can you hold this piece right here?”
He put his hands where she had indicated, and she began to turn the wrench. “Sometimes four hands are better than one on a job like this.”
“How did you manage it when you were living on your own?” he asked her.
She laughed. “Carefully. With a lot of contorting. If I was on my own, I’d be holding that piece in place with my foot while I turned the wrench.”
Well, that’s flexible of you, a mental image of what it would look like filled his mind. A part of him wished he could have seen her.
It was times like these when he was forcibly reminded of the fact that the two of them had nearly kissed. It was impossible, in these moments, not to think of her more romantically. Sensually, even. Talking about contorting her body while the two of them were so close that they were almost touching… Miles was only a man, for God’s sake. Of course he was thinking about it.
Thinking is free. It was a mantra he had adopted for himself over the past few weeks, a reminder that he didn’t need to worry too much when these thoughts came into his head unbidden. Imagining her body in his arms, her soft skin under his hands, didn’t mean that he was going to act on those ideas. In fact, maybe it was better to allow himself to fantasize about her. That would allow him to clear his mind of the thoughts that would otherwise plague it, in the way that listening to a song you had in your head helped you get rid of it.
At least hehopedit would have that effect. So far, it didn’t seem to have worked very well.
Chelsea sat back, grabbed the side of the crib, and gave it a shake. The piece she had just attached seemed firmly connected, and she smiled. “There we go,” she said. “Fit as a fiddle.”
“It does look good,” he had to admit.
“I hope you like it,” she said. “I know I probably shouldn’t have placed an order without talking to you first, but I saw it, and it was just so cute that I couldn’t help myself, you know?”
He laughed. “It’s all right, I’m glad you got the one you wanted. And I have something too. You’re not the only one who’s been shopping without consulting the other person.”
“I’m not?”
He held up a finger as he got to his feet. “Wait here a moment,” he said.
