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Reluctantly, she wriggled back away from me, pulling her robe closed with a regretful shake of her head. “I’ll have to take a raincheck for after my appointment,” she said. “But it’s going to be hard to concentrate on getting ready since you got me so worked up.”
“Don’t say hard,” I said ruefully.
Briefly, she covered my stiff shaft with her hand, the warmth of her palm like torment through my jeans. I sighed. “It’s my fault. I’m the idiot who knocked on your door.”
“I’m so excited! Will you take a picture for me, for the baby book? I want to have a shot of the first time I get to see her on the screen.”
“Of course,” I said. “She, is it?”
“Absolutely. I think the fact that I’m swooning over baby girl clothes is a sign.”
“Of hormonal shifts or the lifelong love of shopping? I remember you and my sister wearing some mortifying black crop tops with roses on them from the mall.”
“Hot Topic. That was my coolest shirt, I’ll have you know. We didn’t all have homes in the Hamptons growing up. Kendall was slumming when she went to Hot Topic where I was saving for three months to get one top.”
“I’d say that I’d take you there and shower you with all the sleazy goth shirts you want but I don’t think I should encourage that.”
“No, we don’t want the baby to dress like that until she’s at least fifteen,” she said so solemnly that I almost laughed.
When we got to the OB/GYN office, I signed her in with the registration desk while Julie chose which sparkling water she wanted from the glass-fronted refrigerator and took a seat. I tried to look like I wasn’t uncomfortable, although I was the only man in the place and I was surrounded by pink chairs, pink carpet, and big artistic black-and-white photos of women breastfeeding infants.
A nurse called us in and I trailed after Julie, a surge of excitement hitting me as I realized we were about to see our child for the first time. Julie looked back over her shoulder at me, smiled, and reached her hand back. I took it in mine, laced our fingers together and held her hand. It felt so right.
We were shown into a narrow room with an exam table, some equipment and a screen, one guest chair. When the nurse stepped out to let her change into a gown, I looked over at Julie. “No way there’s enough room in here for all of us,” I said. She chuckled and stepped behind a folding screen to change. She came out in a faded cotton hospital gown about nine sizes too big for her. She was nervous and excited, her cheeks flushed and her movements fidgety. Seeing her in the gown though reminded me too much of when she was in the hospital after the fire.
“Hey, come here a minute,” I said, my voice husky. She nodded, understanding at once that I needed to hold her.
Julie sat on my lap and let me wrap my arms around her. She scooted closer and hugged me back. “How are you still hard? It’s been an hour,” she whispered, sounding almost giggly.
“I have you in my lap. I’d have to be dead not to react to you,” I said with a hint of discomfort.
“I’ll make the suffering worth your while later,” she said with an arch smile as she stood up.
“That is not helping the situation, saying things like that,” I teased.
She climbed onto the table as the nurse knocked at the door, “Ready? Good. I have some friends of yours…” she trailed off, leading Darren and Rory in the room.
“They’re family,” Julie said, eyes shining. “I’m so glad you made it in time.”
We were crammed in. To make room for the ultrasound technician, Darren moved the one chair out into the hallway and Rory folded up the screen and propped it against the wall. I stood beside Julie, her hand in mine, and my phone ready to capture the photo she wanted.
The tech introduced herself as Kayla, and Julie proceeded to introduce us by first name. “Which one of you is dad?” Kayla asked.
“We’re all in this together,” Julie said firmly. “We’re here to get our first look at our baby.”
Her no-nonsense tone left no room for questions or comments. I was so proud of how she handled that, confident, clear and 100% no-bullshit. Julie had been through hell and back, and she was not here to listen to anyone’s opinion of her life choices.
The tech cleared her throat and started talking about the height of Julie’s fundus, which sounded awful, and an estimate of how many weeks along she was. They chatted about pregnancy symptoms, and Kayla, who was really very good at rolling with it once she knew we were all together, talked about craving barbecue chips during her first pregnancy.
