My Babies and Me

“Of course I do,” Michael walked beside her, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He studied the grass ahead of him.

“Why?”

He probably shouldn’t be advising where he didn’t belong. “Seems obvious.” He looked down at her—shying away from the belly that was so visible from that perspective. “If you know the sex of your child, you can make smart purchases. Take your nursery, for instance.” He warmed to the subject. “You decorate for girl or boy, rather than generic baby, and the room should see the child all the way through toddlerhood.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She was frowning. At least he thought she was, based on the tone of her voice.

“You’d make much more practical selections with clothes, as well.” He kept right on talking. “And you’d be able to purchase everything before the birth so as to be more completely prepared.”

Hearing himself carry on, Michael shut his mouth, uncomfortable. Where on earth had all of that come from?

“Okay.” Susan wrapped her arms around her middle, brushing his side as she did so. “My next appointment’s on the twenty-first. I’ll ask about it then.”

“Not unless you want to, Sus,” he was quick to assure her. “Don’t do anything on my account.”

She nodded, picking up her pace a little as they wandered farther from the raceway. “The appointment’s still almost three weeks away. I have plenty of time between now and then to decide.”

Good. This was her pregnancy; she should do things her way. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”

Eyes focused straight ahead, Susan said, “There’s not just one child to buy for. There are two.”

“Two.” He wasn’t sure he understood. “You’re having twins?”

He stopped abruptly, stared at her.

Susan nodded.

“Twins?” He resumed walking, hands clasped tightly behind him now.

“Yes.”

Michael glanced down at her, then looked ahead once more. She didn’t have much to say, he thought, considering the significance of this news.

“They’re sure?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“How sure?”

“Completely sure, Michael.” She sounded a little exasperated. But oddly sympathetic, too. Seemed to him she should be seeking sympathy right about now. Two babies. Hell.

“I’ve listened to the heartbeats.”

Oh. Nodding, Michael walked on. “Maybe they made a mistake.” He tried to offer her what hope he could. “Maybe they just caught the same heartbeat twice.”

He didn’t even know if such a thing was possible, but he had to say something. Try to reassure her that things might not be as bad as they seemed.

“I had an amniocentesis. There are two babies.”

That was that, then. “God, Sus,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Some luck.” What on earth was she going to do?

Two babies. Instead of one child growing inside her there were two. Michael’s blood ran cold. Instead of fathering one child, he’d fathered two.

There wasn’t a swear word he knew that could express how he felt.

“It is luck, Michael,” Susan was saying softly, almost dreamily. “At my age, I was probably g

oing to have to settle for an only child, especially since I’m alone.”