When moisture filled his eyes, she knew she’d done the right thing in telling him. But also in making the choice.
“He’ll have to know that my word is law,” she told him, not wanting to give him the wrong idea. “I can’t give up any custodial rights, just as you won’t have any monetary responsibility,” she told him. “I still plan to have ‘sperm donor’ on his birth certificate under the designation for ‘father’...”
She could see him struggling to remain serious. To give her words the respect they deserved, but she rejoiced when he cut off her stipulations with a hearty laugh. Loud enough that a group several feet away turned and glanced in their direction.
“Did you hear that, Retro? I’m going to be a father...”
Simple words. Boisterous laughter. Playful chatter with a dog.
And, Cassie knew, those moments had just been embedded on her heart forever.
Chapter Fifteen
Two and a half weeks later, when Cassie went for another ultrasound, a check specifically to keep an eye on the shadow that had originally alerted doctors to Alan’s iron deficiency, Wood was there. During their nightly texts, she’d been more and more open with him about her anxiety regarding her baby’s health. Telling him every time she had a thought that there might be something not quite right. He’d become quite adept at looking up pregnancy symptoms simply to relieve her fears. She’d acknowledged, multiple times, that she knew she was just reacting to a stressor caused by the original scare.
And Wood saw that his role in the pregnancy, along with building the nursery furniture, was to keep Cassie from falling into a pit from which she couldn’t escape. He liked understanding his definition in her life. And set out to be great at it.
So when she’d asked if he wanted to accompany her to the ultrasound, he’d accepted without thought. He’d already taken her to two appointments. Would happily be her driver to all of them.
As usual, she’d scheduled the first appointment of the day, and he spent the ride over telling her about the rocking chair he was building. The crib was done. He’d opted to build the rocker second, partially because it was going to be the second most critical piece of the ensemble, but because it was going to be the most challenging, as well—not that he told her that.
“You look like you’ve grown since Monday,” he told her that second Wednesday morning in July as they waited for her to be called. True to their agreement, they’d been meeting for dinner once a week—on Monday evenings right after work.
In black dress pants and a white-and-black knit top with a short black jacket, she was sitting upright with her hands resting on the mound of her stomach. Proprietarily, he decided. She wasn’t huge yet, by any means, but he could definitely tell that she was pregnant.
“It feels like I have,” she told him, turning her head to give him a small grin. Her lips had a slight tremble. She was nervous.
Understandable, considering the last ultrasound she’d had had given her cause for great worry.
He grabbed her hand. Gave it a squeeze. “It’s going fine,” he said. And then realized what he’d just done, that he was sitting there holding hands with Cassie. There was nothing sexual in the contact. He’d been one hundred percent focused on offering comfort. And yet he knew he’d crossed a line.
They hadn’t outlined any further boundaries since that walk on the beach, but there was one very clear unspoken one between them. They didn’t touch again.
Ever.
Before he could drop her hand or try to slide his away without either of them noticing, the door opened and her name was called. She stood, taking his hand with her.
“Is it okay if the father comes with me?” she asked the nurse standing there waiting for her.
“Of course!”
Wait. What! Wood’s job was sitting in the waiting room, watching as other women filed in, doing what the room was for. Waiting.
But he was no fool. Cassie wanted him with her. She was giving him the chance to see proof of his son’s life on film. A word of warning might have been nice, but then, it also might have messed things up—making more of the moment than it was. He stood, she dropped his hand and he followed her through the door.
* * *
She hadn’t planned on asking him in to the actual ultrasound. She might regret the invitation at a later time. But as Cassie removed her jacket, climbed up onto the table and lay back as instructed, she felt like she could breathe because Wood was there. The technician had already been in the room, waiting for them, and already had jelly and the portable camera ready as she instructed Cassie to raise her top and lower her pants enough to expose the full roundness of her belly.
Knowing that Wood was seeing her naked skin for the first time distracted her so much she jerked when she felt the first chill of cold from the jelly on her stomach.
“You can stand over here,” the technician said, looking at Wood and pointing to a place just off from Cassie’s shoulder on the other side of the table. “That gives you a good view of the screen.” She continued talking as she moved the camera around in the gel, almost like stirring batter in a bowl.
In another second or two, Cassie’s uterus, containing Alan, would show on the screen. If she stared at it, she wouldn’t see Wood right there on the other side of her, watching her distended belly button sticking up in the air.
She looked at Wood. In the jeans and T-shirt she knew he wore to work, his attention was fully on the screen opposite the bed, not even looking at her belly.
And then he did—glance at her naked stomach, and then up to her face. Their gazes met. He seemed to be talking to her. Telling her everything was going to be just fine.