He couldn’t possibly know that. She didn’t know it.
But she took another breath. An easier one.
“Okay, let’s see what we can find,” the technician said, and Cassie prepared for the professional silence she’d encountered during the first ultrasound—when the technician saw something but couldn’t legally give her opinion.
Wood glanced at the screen and then back at her, and the intimacy of the moment wrapped her in a private cocoon for a second or two.
He’d told her he’d never seen an ultrasound before. She liked being his first.
“There he is.” The technician’s tone still held flowers and light.
“Here are his arms...and his legs...”
The camera moved on her stomach. She listened. And watched Wood’s face as she caught his first glance of the child she’d created. There was little expression, just focus, and then he looked at her. His expression was completely new to her...awe and caring and shock, too. Emotion poured over her, welled up within her. She swallowed back tears.
And continued to watch his face. She couldn’t look at the screen.
“And...here’s his heartbeat...” the technician said in a singsong tone. The sound of the baby’s heart came into the room...more rapid than an adult pulse, but she’d known it would be. Counted the beats. Listened for regularity. Found it.
And smiled when Wood glanced down at her again.
In some ways she wanted the moment to last forever. At the same time, she couldn’t wait to have the test done. To get back to work and have everything be normal.
To know that Alan was progressing normally. She should hear later that day, given the circumstances. A radiologist would be reading the film, charting to the doctor, within the hour, in case the situation was growing more critical.
“I’m aware that you can’t divulge any medical information or advice, other than that which you’ve already explained.” Wood’s voice broke into her thoughts. “But could you show me where the shadow was that alerted doctors to an iron deficiency?”
She stared at him. What was he doing?
The camera moved around on her stomach. “Right here.” The technician moved. Cassie heard the rustle of the woman’s purple scrubs, saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She stared at Wood’s face, but it was in its stoic place.
What was he seeing?
If it was bad, she wanted to be upright, dressed—feeling strong, not vulnerable, when she heard about it. She wanted to be mobile and able to take action.
The technician mentioned taking some pictures, and then she was handing Cassie a warm cloth to remove the jelly from her stomach. Telling her they were all done and she was free to go.
She went through the motions. A little embarrassed now as she pulled up her waistband, covering the small bit of hair that had been showing from down below. And shoved her shirt down over her belly. Her hands were shaking as she reached for her jacket. The door closed behind the technician.
“There was nothing there.” Wood’s words fell into the room.
“What?” Jacket half on, half off, she looked over at him.
“I saw no shadow on the screen where she indicated. Nothing. It was just a light gray mass, like the rest of the area.”
Her face started to pucker. She could feel it. Tried to contain it. “No shadow?” she asked. “Really?”
Head tilted, he seemed to wrap her in understanding. In love. “No shadow,” he said.
Watching her diet and the added iron were working?
Without thought, she moved toward him. Wrapped her arms around his middle and started to cry.
* * *
Wood was still at work
that afternoon, up on a piece of scaffolding, when Cassie texted that he was right. The doctor had confirmed her ultrasound was clear of shadows. Until she had a second amniocentesis, scheduled in two weeks, they wouldn’t know for sure how much Alan’s red blood cell count had come up, but for the moment, the doctor was optimistic that the baby was completely normal.