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“We are.” I hand her the second sonogram. “But it turns out, you were right, too.”
“A girl?” She snatches the black and white picture out of my hand and holds it up, looking back and forth between our babies.
Baby A and Baby B.
Our baby boy and our baby girl.
Luna’s shoulders start to shake and I lean down to see her face. “Are you crying?”
She laughs through the tears, swiping at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “I’m just so happy. This is everything, Yakov. This is my whole world now.”
53
LUNA
I’m halfway across the room, tiptoeing to freedom, when the double doors to our makeshift library bedroom slide open.
Ofeliya swoops in and then stops, frowning at me. “Where are you going?”
“Bathroom,” I answer quickly. Even though I just went to the bathroom fifteen minutes ago. A fact Ofeliya knows since she insisted on escorting me there.
I keep telling everyone that protein in my urine hasn’t affected my legs, but they don’t seem to hear me.
She arches a brow and suddenly looks exactly like an older version of Mariya. “The door to the nursery is locked. Even if you get out of this room and make it there, you’ll never get inside.”
I groan and slouch back to the bed. “I just want to have a peek. What if I chose the wrong color for the accent wall? Or what if Yakov and Mariya mixed up the buckets and are painting the ceilings the wall color and vice versa? It could be a disaster.”
“Your instructions were clear and Yakov is a smart man. He knows what he’s doing,” she says.
“Normally, I’d agree, but how many walls has he painted in his life? He might be out of his depth here.”
Part of my nesting process involved drowning in paint swatches and staying up most of the night to design a color scheme that incorporates both babies into the design. I settled on a muted dove blue for the paneling on the left side of the room and dusty rose for the right with a nude color on the remaining walls and ceiling.
Then I suggested hiring some painters and Yakov turned into a territorial caveman. His hackles were raised at just the idea of strangers we didn’t know walking through the front door.
It became clear the options were to let him and Mariya do the painting or leave the nursery white.
“Last time I checked… one,” Ofeliya says.
“Only one wall is done? They’ve been in there for hours!”
Yakov’s mother pulls the comforter over me and places a mug of tea on the bedside table. “This is a recipe from my mother. Decaffeinated black tea flavored with a little orange, a little lemon, a dash of vanilla, and some cinnamon. It’s so much better for you than all of that coffee.”
If only she knew my iced coffee was in the tumbler six inches away.
“Thanks for that. Sounds yummy. Maybe I’ll drink it while I take a walk upstairs just to peek in and?—”
“No,” she interrupts. “The paint fumes aren’t safe for you.”
“I’ll just peek in and?—”
“You’ll stay here and wait for a full forty-eight hours.” She pats the blanket in around me, sealing me into the bed like a tomb. “You need to be resting anyway. You heard what Dr. Jenkins said this morning. You need to stay off your feet as much as possible.”
Oh, I heard him loud and clear. So did Yakov. I tried to take a shower after Dr. Jenkins left and Yakov physically carried me to the bathroom and ran me a bath instead.
Honestly, I didn’t even mind. At least when he was around and being absurdly protective, I had someone to talk to. Now, he’s busy and his mother is plying me with books and television and tea, but I’m bored to the point of tears.
Ofeliya is about to drop down into the chair next to my bed for what is sure to be another rousing hour of game shows when I say suddenly, “I think I’ll lie down and take a nap. I’m feeling a little tired.”
