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“But, Dr. Lopez… more than one heartbeat ?”
Speaking of heartbeats, mine is going crazy .
She nods again, glancing down at my chart. Then she frowns, pressing her lips. “Oh… This says you’re having a singleton. Well, that’s wrong. You’re having twins !”
“Twins,” I repeat, my mouth suddenly dry .
She pats my knee fondly. “Yep. And you can go ahead and get dressed now. I’ll see you in four weeks, all right ?”
As the door closes behind her, I can’t hold it back anymore. I feel all my emotions, all at once. Every emotion I think I’ve ever had, suddenly flooding through me, taking over. I sob uncontrollably, shaking and coughing and gripping the end of the exam table .
Bea pets my knee, handing me tissue after tissue .
“Oh, there now, it’s going to be all right…” she says, completely unconvincing. “Twins are great! They’re adorable! You’re going to be so happy about this !”
“What am I going to do?” I whine, the words unintelligible even to me through the wet sounds of my choking sobs. “I can’t have twins! I’m not even sure I can handle one !”
“You can, and you will.” she informs me, putting on her superior boss-lady voice. “Now get dressed, and let’s go to lunch. We’ll talk this out. We’ll come up with a plan .”
Miserably, I shove myself off the exam table and get back into my oversized jeans and Cal State sweatshirt .
“This sucks. This absolutely sucks .”
“It doesn’t suck, Ava. Let’s go eat .”
“It totally sucks .”
She just rolls her eyes and drags me out of the exam room, back through reception, and back out onto the street. I must look awful, because everybody we pass gazes at me with alarm. I do not even care about that. I deserve to cry. I deserve to have an absolute tantrum. Nothing could be worse .
She drags me to a noodle shop, pushing me toward the counter where there happen to be two empty spots at the end. In a few moments, I get a nice, hot bowl of ramen in front of me, slices of pork gleaming atop the savory oil slick, festooned with ribbons of green onion and a sprinkling of sesame seeds .
“Okay, ramen,” I admit, my tears drying on my cheeks. “This is a good idea. Ramen will heal me .”
“You’re not going to be healed. No healing to be done! You’re not sick, Ava. You’re pregnant .”
“With twins,” I remind her. Drops of broth dribble down my chin. I don’t even care .
Bea twirls long noodles around her chopsticks like an expert, popping the bundle directly onto her tongue. She chews thoughtfully for a moment .
“Okay, well, two can’t be that much more difficult than one. You are ready for one? Right? If you can do that, you can do twins. You are a woman .”
“Hear me roar,” I respond meekly .
“But,” she says as she affixes me sternly with her eyes, “you gotta tell your mom .”
I flinch .
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea .”
She turns to me, her eyebrows straight and serious. I try not to look at her, but her eyeballs are burning right into the side of my face. Finally, I glance over .
“You gotta tell your mom,” she says again. “She deserves to know. She’s gonna find out anyway! And you’re gonna need all the help you can get, whether you want to admit it or not. I know you’re a grown-ass woman, but you gotta .”
“No I don’t .”
“Stop being so stubborn! She’s a mom. Both of your parents, as a matter of fact. They’re going to be happy for you. Sure, it’ll be a little weird… what with Ethan and all …”
“Oh my God. Can I just leave that part out ?”
