Confused, she forced her mind back on track.
“You’re dying to know if you’re having a boy or girl.” She couldn’t be wrong about that. She’d listened to the things he didn’t say.
And the little things he had, like the time he’d mentioned a future with dance classes or fishing poles... It wasn’t like he’d had a preference for one or the other, or even a need to have fishing poles if it was a boy; he’d just seemed to need to know. Because he was a guy whose numbers had to be concrete. Had to fit neatly within their formulas.
He was taking on solo a job for two. Not just a job. A lifetime commitment. With no professional boundaries.
He hadn’t denied her statement.
“I’m scheduling the ultrasound,” she said, standing.
He stood, too, and their hands brushed. Just briefly, they both froze. Looked into each other’s eyes.
And she was glad she was pregnant with his child.
* * *
Jamie wasn’t a reveler. His celebrations tended to be of the quieter kind. A sense of rightness inside him. Well-being.
But that next Friday, when he stood just behind a new technician, Molly, in a different ultrasound room located within Cheryl Miller’s private practice clinic, and heard the words, “It’s a boy!” he whooped right out loud.
He’d kind of been hoping for a girl who’d take after Emily. But there wasn’t even a hint of disappointment in him as Molly pointed out the evidence.
“I’m going to have a son!” He couldn’t believe the near squeal came from him, and instinctively, his gaze went to Christine. To share the miracle with her.
Her eyes were closed. There was no mistaking the couple of tear drops coming from their corners.
But she was smiling.
* * *
Christine had said he needed to celebrate, and he wanted to. But only with her.
The fact brought him up short as he drove away from the clinic that morning and headed straight to the public beach he’d shared with Emily all those years. To commune with his wife and sit with their baby news with her in the only way left to him.
Walking down as close to the shore as he could get without waves washing up on him, he plopped down in the dark brown dress pants and beige sweater he’d worn to class, and looked out to sea. To Emily.
The horizon met him with a blank stare. He looked for her face and saw Christine, eyes closed, with tears and a smile. Saw her on the private beach outside his cottage, looking at him like she needed to kiss him as badly as he needed to kiss her. And in her office the day he’d first made his request of her to carry his baby. Remembered her telling him that she was certain his request would be on her mind for years to come.
“We’re having a son, Em!” He said the words aloud, releasing emotion that had been clamoring inside him.
He listened for Emily’s response in his head, her excitement, and instead heard Christine’s voice thick with emotion as she told him that he was offering pork to a dog.
What kind of an ass was he that a woman he’d only known for months was able to drown out the memory of the wife, the woman, the girl he’d loved for more than half his life?
What kind of a fool?
* * *
As the baby grew inside her, Christine worked longer hours at The Parent Portal and volunteered more. She was doing the healthy thing—keeping herself occupied with pursuits that brought value to her life. She took care of herself. Rested on the couch in her office at least a few minutes every morning and afternoon. Was eating like a health nut, down to measuring and weighing when she was at home to ensure that she got recommended amounts of all the nutrients that would help the baby boy to grow, and none that could hinder his growth.
Her body was his temple for the next few months, and when he returned it to her, he’d be leaving it in better condition, healthwise, than he’d found it. She’d have a few pounds to lose, some baby fat, but her cholesterol levels would be stellar.
At four and a half months pregnant, she’d gained seven pounds. Was aiming for a pound a week for the rest of the pregnancy. The last ultrasound hadn’t been necessary but she’d been glad to have the confirmation that all was well. The baby’s growth was right in the middle of the normal chart. Her uterine lining was nice and thick and protecting him. Her blood pressure was great, his heartbeat strong and steady.
She was having another boy. Very similar to something she’d already been through. Jamie’s baby should have been the only thing different in her life. Her only focus. But how did you control your subconscious? She was waking up nights with Jamie Howe on her mind, as though he was in her bed with her, but when she opened her eyes, she lay there alone. Sometimes she remembered dreams. Sometimes she didn’t.
It was all very confusing.