“Great, I spent much of it with Riley and Leo.” I take a swig of my bottled water. One of the instructions from the doctor was to drink as much water as I could before the scan. The result of that is that I already have a full bladder, and I know the next hour is going to be torture holding the pee in.
“How is she doing?” Thomas asks.
“Physically, she’s well, but I think being away from work is tough for her. Leo’s mother will stay with them for a while. I think that will help.”
We chat like a real couple as we head to the doctor’s office. I’m glad I’m not doing this alone, I think as Thomas and I stroll down the hallway to the ultrasound room.
The radiographer is a friendly brown-haired lady, and she preps me up for the scan. Minutes later, I’m lying on the examination bed while she spreads cold jelly on my belly.
“Sorry about this; I know it’s a little cold.”
I smile in response, too nervous to speak.
Thomas sits by the bed, holding my hand. I keep my eyes closed as she moves the sonogram machine over my tummy.
“You can look at the screen now,” the woman says, and when I look, my eyes flood with tears as I see our baby for the first time.
I turn to Thomas, and he squeezes my hand.
He keeps my hand in his as we walk out of the doctor’s office and stroll to his car. I wish this were real. I wish Thomas were my permanent partner. I even wish we lived in the same house and my baby and I would get to see him every day.
“How was that for you?” I ask him as we’re driving away. ow Hkkdfff,l,,,,,HHhhvv I can’t wait to hear him express the avalanche of emotion that follows hearing your baby’s heartbeat.
“It was nice to know that the baby is healthy and growing well. The first ultrasound is important as it determines the viability of the pregnancy.”
I stare at Thomas in disbelief and wait to hear him say that his response was a joke. Okay, calm down, I tell myself. He’s a doctor; he’s bound to think like one. “I’m not asking from the point of view of a doctor; I’m asking what you felt as a dad.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds. Then he clears his throat. “Same thing. I was pleased that the pregnancy is proceeding as expected.”
I swallow my disappointment and tell myself that it doesn’t matter. But it does. When Thomas had squeezed my hand when we heard the baby’s heartbeat, I thought we were on the same wavelength. Clearly not.
I’m too pissed off to ask him in when he drops me off in front of my apartment building.
Chapter 22
Thomas
The last few weeks have gone by in a flash, and Cora and I have fallen into an easy routine where we spend much of our weekends together. Today is Friday, and I’m looking forward to spending another easy weekend with her. Her belly is nicely rounded now, and anyone who knows her can tell that she’s pregnant.
Close to noon, after a patient leaves my office, I pick up my cell phone and see a missed call from an unfamiliar number. I hit call and wait for the person to answer.
“Hi Thomas, I was hoping that you’d call back.”
The hairs at the back of my neck rise at the voice that is so eerily like Tessa’s. A voice I haven’t heard in four years.
“Hi Liz, what a surprise to hear from you.”
I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that I’m speaking to Tessa’s younger sister. After we buried Tessa and the court case was over, I did not keep in touch with her family, but it wasn’t from a lack of trying. I’d called Liz several times, but she’s always seemed to be in a rush, and she would say that she would call back, and she never did.
It was the same thing with her parents. I’d called a few times, but I’d gotten the feeling that they did not want to talk, and I’d stopped calling. I had concluded that speaking with me was a constant reminder of their loss, and so I’d stopped trying, though it had saddened me.
As much as my family understood my grief, Tessa’s family related more with my loss. I’d hoped that we could help each other heal. I’d muddled through it on my own, hoping that after the initial intense grieving period, they would come around. They never did, so it’s a shock to hear from Liz after so long.
“How have you been?” I ask her. “What about Mo—” I’d called Tessa’s parents Mom and Dad, but it seemed odd to call them that now. “Your parents?”
“They are well; we are all well,” Liz says.