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“Sorry, Xander. It’s just been a rough few days,” she admits.
“Well, from now on I want you to tell me everything,” I chide. “I thought you already were, but obviously not,” I add with a frown, glancing at her in the rearview.
“Can we not fight over it?” She fake smiles and we drive the rest of the way in silence.
I love Gillian more every day, no doubt. But I do recall foreseeing that not every day is our wedding day or our wedding night.
“Through good times and not so good times,” I remind her, looking over and curling my lip in a small smile as we pull into the medical center parking lot.
“I love you, darling,” she says and starts to cry.
Winner, Xander. You sure know how to take it from bad to worse, don’t you?
I guess we’re both just feeling the strains and joys, the worry really of pending parenthood.
It’s a long wait too without an appointment, but this is the life I chose now. No more specialized services. No more top brass.
Regular, plain Xander Sexton and family.
I wouldn’t have it any other way, although after about an hour and a half I start to wonder aloud for a private doctor.
“Or you could just make an appointment,” Gillian reminds me, poking her tongue out and making me laugh.
“What were you driving me out to see anyway?” Gillian asks and I figure now’s as good a time as any.
While we’re in the waiting room, I pull out my phone, bringing up the photos of the new house.
“I hope you like it, ‘cause I… We already bought it,” I add, handing her the phone and watching her eyes and face once she starts to scroll through each image.
“Oh, Xander! It’s beautiful.” I watch her features soften, the color coming back to her face and her eyes light up as she looks at the blank canvas for our future family.
“Six months in a cottage with a seven foot gorilla can get a bit much,” she mumbles to herself, gasping at the bathrooms and kitchen.
“Thanks very much,” I mumble back, pretending to be offended but knowing she’s right.
I used to work so much away from home because home was a shoebox.
“And you chide me for not sharing everything. Xander. Jesus, how much did this place cost?” she asks, suddenly embarrassed for raising her voice once she notices we have an audience.
“Not as much as you’d think,” I tell her, poking my tongue out for a change.
She whispers a figure in my ear, just to check.
“Okay,” I admit. “Way more than that, but it’s a home, isn’t it? It’s our first ancestral kingdom,” I proclaim.
She looks disappointed until I lean over, whispering in her ear how many acres it’s set on.
“And there’s a waterfall in the gorge, but what would I know,” I add, rolling my eyes for effect. Only satisfied when she squeaks with delight, begging to see more photos.
It’s not really the ‘doctor’s’ appointment I was expecting, but Gillian seems to be comfortable with things.
An ultrasound and a blood test are suggested, with Gillian opting only for the ultrasound at this stage.
The doctor shrugs, and another half hour later we’re looking at our baby. On a blurry black and white screen anyway.
Twenty-First Century technology.
Go Earth.
All the stresses and joys of the past six months make sense again.
Our little, or not-so-little baby is doing just fine according to the nurse conducting the ultrasound.
“Now do Mommy and Daddy want to know the sex of each baby?” she asks.
I think I drop my phone and Gillian and I look at each other, doing some ‘big baby’ math between us.
“Excuse me, what did you just say?” Gillian clips.
The nurse makes an ‘O’ shape with her mouth, apologizing if she’s said too much.
“No-no,” Gillian says hurriedly. “We came to find out if everything was okay with the baby. Why my belly is so big,” she adds.
The nurse glancing over at me and then back to my wife.
“This the father?” she asks point-blank, Gillian only nods.
“They’ll be big babies, just so you know.”
Gillian frowns, but the nurse points out the hands and feet.
“See these here. And here. Big,” she explains, but Gillian gets her point.
“Now, the real question is, do Mommy and Daddy want to know the sex of each or one of the twins?” she asks us again.
Gillian and I look at each other.
“It would settle a bet,” I offer, looking down.
“What!” she shrieks.
“With your dad. He actually bet on twins, a boy, and a girl. I bet no way, one boy for my money.” I confess and I hear the nurse stifle a laugh.
“Xander, how could you?” Gillian scowls.
“Why? What did you bet with him?” I challenge her, knowing she did because he already told me.
“A girl. One girl,” she concedes, and the nurse slaps her thigh laughing at the pair of us, all four of us really.
