I’m with a client. She’s got dinner plans for seven, we’ll be done by six.
At least it isn’t the one-word responses I’ve been getting.
Dinner at Goldfinches six thirty?
Her response comes through fast.
Sounds good
I’m wrapping up my day a little after four thirty so I can go home and change when my phone rings. It’s Bethany’s ringtone. I’m expecting her to lay into me about Chloe so when she says my name, her voice dripping with fear, I freeze.
“What’s the matter, Bethany?”
“It’s the baby.” Her fear skims down my spine. I drop the file I’m holding, I just get up and start walking.
I stop in front of Pauline’s desk; she catches my eye. “What about the baby, Bethany?” Pauline’s eyes go wide and she nods, understanding. That covered, I keep walking.
“He hasn’t moved all day. Like at all. I’ve been up since seven this morning. At first, I barely noticed, you know, but by noon I did. I tried to make him move, poking him, eating hot stuff, nothing. I called the doctor’s office and they are all, it happens, everything is fine. But Enzo, what if it’s not?”
I’m already in a cab, on the way home. “Okay, deep breaths. Are you dressed and ready to leave?”
She sniffles. “No, not really.”
“Throw something on. We’re going to the doctor. A sonogram, right that’s what they can use to check on him the quickest and easiest way?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I’m almost home, less than five minutes. I’m going to hang up and talk to your doctor. Then we’re going to have a sonogram done.”
“Thank you, Enzo. I’ll be downstairs in less than five minutes.”
“All right, I’ll be there. Five minutes.”
Another sniffle as she sighs. “Thank you.”
Hanging up, I work my phone to bring up Bethany’s doctor. For once Dante’s paranoia paid off: he put the doctor’s number in my phone when he first found out Bethany was pregnant again. The front desk isn’t happy to talk to me since I’m not the father. They get even less happy when I demand a sonogram for Bethany, the woman says some stupid shit about insurance. I tell her I’ll buy the damn machine in cash if that’s what it will take. When I threaten to sue she folds. The technician hasn’t left for the day, if we can get there within the next half hour they’ll do it. We’ll be there.
Bethany is waiting on the sidewalk, and I open the cab door for her. The fear is in every inch of her; both hands clutch at her stomach as if by doing so she can keep her baby safe. I give the cabbie the address.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t, don’t even think it. It’s going to be fine. He’s paying you back for calling him a chill, easy baby.”
Wiping her eyes. “You think?”
“He’s Dante’s kid, isn’t he? No doubt. Did I ever tell you about the time Dante got out of bed in the middle of the night to help the next-door neighbor girl watch for the tooth fairy? He was all of seven years old. It was thirty degrees out, they climbed up a tree with binoculars. My dad freaked out, tore the house up looking for Dante, he woke up everyone. We searched the house for an hour, then we went into the backyard. We were shouting for Dante but the brat didn’t say a word, he got scared he would be in trouble. We were so loud it woke the neighbors, then they found their daughter missing. The police were called, and there were about seven cop cars lining our block. Dante and the girl were by this time scared shitless they would be in trouble. Then just as the cops are prepping sniffer dogs, Dante falls out of the tree because he was half frozen and couldn’t hold on anymore, then the girl comes tumbling out too, right on top of him. She broke his arm. I’m pretty sure the broken arm is what saved him for being grounded until he was thirteen.”
“You’re lying. He’s never told me that. He swore he was a good kid, the best out of all three of you.”
I laugh. “Not even close. One Easter he found the stash of candy for the baskets for all three of us kids. He hid in a closet eating all of the candy, every last piece. When my dad found him he was miserable. My dad grabbed him to take him to his room for punishment, and Dante threw up all over my dad’s and his new shoes that had been bought for Easter.”
“Oh my god, no wonder he hates Easter. He made me promise we wouldn’t do the whole Easter egg hunt and basket thing. He’s a big fat liar.”
“If you want to pay him back, just wave some Peeps in front of him, you know, the sugar-covered marshmallows in front of him. To this day he swears he gets nauseous just thinking of them, but smelling them, he gags.”
Bethany’s laughter fills the car. Tension eases in me, until we pull up in front of the large building. “In here?”
“Yeah, it’s full of all kinds of doctors’ and medical testing offices. My doctor is on the eleventh floor.”