Epiphany

by Ashley Suzanne

  Every time Mira flinches, the Dr. Banas is swift to apologize for the pain and allow

  Mira a moment to catch her breath. Even though it seems like hours, the physical

  probing lasts only minutes. Once all of the swabs are packaged up, to be sent to

  the lab I assume, Dr. Banas offers Mira her hand, assisting her in sitting up straight.

  “How’s everything look so far?” Mira asks, uncertainly.

  “From what I’ve seen, it looks good. I’m going to keep with the plan of the cream prescribed to you by the ER. I’m going to take you into the ultrasound room to get a look at your womb. With the accident and your injuries, I am a little concerned about scar tissue and your family history of miscarriages. An ultrasound will also help me gauge your due date a little better than going off your last period.” I guess all that history Mira gave is important. As scared as I am to lose this baby, I’m more concerned with Mira’s mental health at the moment.

  “Okay,” Mira sighs. When the doctor walks out of the room, she instructs Mira to

  get dressed and meet her in the hallway, where she’ll take her to the next room.

  “Are you alright?” I ask, wanting to gauge Mira’s emotional state.

  “Yeah, I guess. I’m probably in a little bit of shock still, but I’ll be okay. I don’t know if I want to see the baby, Sky. If I see him or her, it’s going to make this real, and if something happens …” I cut her off midsentence.

  “If something happens, we’ll try again. And keep trying. Let’s not worry about things we can’t control. We’re gonna go see our baby and then we’re going to go home so you can call Kylee.”

  “No, I don’t wanna tell anyone else, yet. Not until I know it’s safe.” Shrugging

  into her shirt, Mira rejects my idea, but I’m not playing into this. She not going

  to bottle all of this up, and if something bad does happen, have nobody to talk to. No. Not on my watch.

  “Listen. You’re going to tell Kylee. She’s the closest thing you have to a sister and she loves you. Good or bad, she’s going to want to hold your hand through this,” I say, adamantly. “Can you imagine the kind of shit fit she’ll throw if she finds out and you weren’t the one to tell her? I want no part of that argument,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood and her spirits.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. When we’re done, I’ll call her. She’ll be this baby’s

  Godmother anyway.” Shouldn’t I be involved in this decision?

  “We’re picking Godparents already? I thought we weren’t doing anything baby related

  until after the first trimester. Did you change your mind already?” I’m not sure

  if it’s because I’m a first time dad or what, but I want to do all the baby stuff.

  Right now. I wanna pick names and colors for the nursery. Shit! We’ll have to move to a bigger

  apartment—or a house. Somewhere out of the city, he’ll need a good school district.

  He. I could have a son.

  “Slow down, babe. We’re not doing anything baby related, yet. Kylee and I made promises

  to each other when we were ten years old that when we had babies, I would be Godmother

  to hers and she would be to mine. It’s just a juvenile promise—one I intend on keeping

  unless she gives me an out. No more baby talk today. I can practically see your

  mind spinning with all the things you want to do. As long as we’re good in a few

  weeks, we can do everything. I promise.” Mira’s hand comes up to rub my cheek and

  makes its way into my hair, pulling me to her for a kiss that has me wanting to do

  all kinds of things to her … not baby related.

  “I’ll need to ask the doctor about sex,” I whisper in her ear, lightly tugging on the lobe with my teeth.

  As we walk into the hallway, the doctor’s at the nurses’ station writing in a chart.

  Trying to glance over her shoulder to see who the chart belongs to, I’m swatted from

  behind. Mira.

  “What?” I mouth, shrugging my shoulders.

  “Knock it off,” she says with her eyes.

  “Go ahead into room seven and I’ll be in with you shortly.” Walking down the short

  corridor, the walls are littered with pictures of newborns, names and birthdates on

  each photo. I get a vision of our little guy or gal’s mug shot pinned to the cork

  board with all these other ones. Only, I hope ours is cuter. Then again, most brand

  new babies look like aliens or bugs—I guess if an alien and a bug mated, these would

  be their offspring.

  Shuddering, I stop in front of room seven and wait for Mira to catch up. It would appear that my sweet, pregnant fiancée is just as enamored with these newborns as I just was. It’s hard to mistake the glow radiating from Mira and the glimmer of hope in her eyes, overshadowing the fear.

  “Hurry it up, prego. I don’t wanna miss the photo shoot,” I tease, trying to hurry

  Mira along.

  “You, shut it. Since I’m the one that’s with child, you will wait on me as long as needed,” she retorts, winking as she continues the last few steps into the room.

  Leaning into my side, she stands on her tiptoes, and her whole body shivers as she

  whispers in my ear, “Our baby isn’t going to be ugly, right? Some of those pictures

  were just downright scary.”

  “Naw, ours will most certainly be handsome or beautiful. I mean, come on, look at the parents. We couldn’t produce something frightening if we tried. We’re much

  too good looking.”

  Mira laughs a full belly chuckle, making my heart sing with her sudden change of moods. I’m probably going to want to read some kind of pregnancy books, as these emotional shifts are sure to be the norm over the next few months. It’s easier to understand why there aren’t motorcycle magazines in the lobby now. These doctors are super smart, wanting the fathers to learn as much about pregnancies as they can.

  “Okay, guys. Are we ready?” The doctor pops up out of nowhere, making her way into

  the small room.

  “Ready,” Mira and I say in unison. Mira sits on the edge of the table, making herself comfortable. Taking the seat next to Mira, I place my hand on her leg that won’t

  stop bouncing, trying to ease her nerves.

  Dr. Banas hits the button on the ultrasound machine and turns on the small television monitor above her head. Flicking off the bright florescent lights, she gets situated on the small circle chair, especially reserved for those in white coats.

  Taking something that resembles lube out of a warmer on the counter, she squirts it on Mira’s bare stomach just below her navel. Taking the baby viewing wand out of its holder, she presses it to Mira’s abdomen and starts the search.

  “Alright, Mira, you can look on the monitor that I’m watching, and Skylar, you use the one up there. Right here, this is your uterus, Mira, and this,” she maneuvers and manipulates the wand until there’s something on the screen that looks like a blob, “this is your baby.”

  Dr. Banas stars fiddling with the buttons on the machine. It looks like she’s taking

  measurements of some kind. I take Mira’s hand without removing my eyes from the monitor,

  interlacing our fingers and rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. Moisture starts to

  form behind my lids and it takes every ounce of strength I have to not let my tears

  fall. Glancing at Mira, she’s not as strong, her face is wet with freshly shed tears.

  “You’re measuring about seven weeks along, putting your due date,” she whips out a circle and starts spinning the wheel, concentrating on the numbers surrounding it, she finally says, “August 15th.”

  “Can we hear the heartbeat?” Mira asks, using her free hand to wipe her face.

  “It can be hard to find this early, but I’ll try to get it on the monitor for you
.

  If not, I’ll have you come back in a week or so.”

  “A week is all the difference between hearing his heartbeat and not?” I ask skeptically. Something about that doesn’t sound right. I mean, he has a heart right? Why wouldn’t we be able to hear it?

  “You’d be surprised how fast the fetus will grow over the next few months. Right now, the fetus is small and unidentifiable as a baby. In a few more weeks, your baby will have arms and legs. In about ten more weeks, we’ll be able to repeat an ultrasound and tell you the gender of your baby.” Wow.

  The doc turns the volume up on the machine—it sounds like a lot of white noise until

  she manipulates the wand over the spot where she found our baby the first time. The

  strangest, most soothing noise hits my ears in a rush. Mira’s made me watch enough

  romantic comedies that the heartbeat of a baby through an ultrasound machine is something

  I’m well versed with. Hearing your own child, though, that’s an entirely new experience.

  The rapid whooshing sounds fill the room and my strength is wearing thin. When Mira

  squeezes my hand tighter, I’m a lost cause, the tears falling freely down my cheeks.

  This is my child. Our child.

  “Oh my God,” Mira mutters, placing our hands on her chest, kissing mine softly.

  The doctor fiddles with the machine yet again, this time printing something. When

  she hands each of us a print out of our little blob, I clutch the picture to my chest.

  I’m ready to sprint out of this clinic so I can get home and put this picture in the

  frame I just bought. He’s so beautiful already.

  I’m going to be someone’s daddy soon. Looking at the photo one more time before I

  put it in my wallet for safe keeping, I mutter to myself, “I’m your daddy.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Mira

  Walking out of the doctor’s office with the sonogram picture, I can’t stop glancing at it, realizing that this is actually happening … well, maybe happening.

  As promised, as soon as we’re in the car, I call Kylee as we head down the highway. Destination: Danny’s apartment. A long overdue conversation will be taking place this afternoon, whether he likes it or not. Thankfully, the ride’s going to take a while and there’s some time for me to calm down. If he were here right now, I’m sure I’d rip his throat out with my bare hands.

  “Hey,” I say when Kylee answers the phone. Mood shift number seventy two for the day—all traces of anger gone when I hear her voice.

  “Hey. I tried calling you yesterday but got the bitch button. What’s with that shit?”

  “Well, do you want the short version or the long one?” I’ll at least give her the chance to make up her mind before I start spilling. God knows, if I don’t, I’ll talk for days.

  “Let’s start with short and if I need more, I’ll ask.”

  “Okay. I’m pregnant.” I’ve never claimed to be well versed in subtly. Actually, I’m pretty shitty at it.

  “Oh. That’s news. Spill. How far along? Are you keeping it? When did you find out?” The questions fly

  out of Kylee’s mouth a mile a minute, not giving me much time to answer.

  “Ky, you gotta slow down a little, love. Here’s the scoop. The other night, after

  some fun on the back of the bike, I started having back pains. I went to the hospital

  and they said I was in the beginning stages of a miscarriage. For now, everything’s

  fine, but it could go south quickly. So, I hope I’m keeping the baby, but that’s

  not really up to me anymore. We just left the OBGYN and I’m about seven weeks along.

  Due August fifteenth. I didn’t want to tell anyone, but Skylar said I had to call you.”

  “Damn right you had to call me. I’m kinda pissed you’ve known for days and didn’t think to tell your best friend, but I understand why. Are you home right now? I’m coming over.”

  “No, I’m headed to Danny’s. That’s the other part of this clusterfuck. Apparently, I was pregnant before the accident and lost the baby. Danny didn’t think it was an important detail to tell me, so Skylar finally told me today, in the middle of my appointment.”

  “Oh fuck. Well, shit. What a dick move on Danny’s part. Good for Sky. Tell him I love him. The real question of the day is, how the hell do you always manage to fuck up my news? Here I am all excited that

  I’m engaged and you’re over there all pregnant and what not, having baby daddy issues

  with your ex fiancé. This is what you’re gonna do, listen closely. You’re going

  to beat the shit of Danny and then tell him I’ll pay him a visit later in the week.

  Then, the second you walk in your door, I’m coming over. We’re gonna talk more about

  this.”

  “HOLY SHIT! You’re engaged! Get the fuck out of here. Okay, Skylar has some business to handle

  later, but didn’t want to leave me alone. I don’t want him having to rearrange his

  entire life because he’s scared to leave me. I’ll call you the moment I walk in the

  door and you can head over.” I say, glancing over at Skylar who’s wearing a scowl

  on his face. Did I say too much?

  “I’ll see you in a little bit then. Love you, babe.”

  “Love you, too. Bye.” I click the end button, throwing the phone back in my purse. I almost want to call Danny to let him know we’re on our way, but it’s going to be much more fun to show up and make him give me the answers unannounced.

  “In case you didn’t know, when a man is about to become a father, rearranging his life is just part of the deal. You have to change things in your life and so do I. It’s no inconvenience, Mira.”

  “I know, but you can’t do it because you’re scared. That’s not right. There’s plenty of time for you to handle your business and then come home to me. Plus, it gives me some girl time with Kylee, who’s also engaged to be married. She also wants me to tell you that she loves you.”

  “Good for her. That’s amazing news and I love her right back.” Skylar doesn’t address

  the other part of that statement, not wanting to give in to my request, but instead

  of fighting, he rolls his eyes and keeps driving.

  We arrive at Danny’s just after five, and as expected, his car’s in the driveway along with another vehicle, which I suspect belongs to Melissa.

  Skylar’s first to walk up the walkway to the front door, me closely following behind

  on his heels. Just before he knocks, he turns to look at me, making sure I’m ready to do this. I nod my head in agreement and maneuver myself in front

  of Skylar, needing to be the first person he sees and handle this on my own. This

  isn’t a mess for Sky to clean up. He’s far too understanding to begin with.

  Pressing the doorbell repeatedly, I impatiently wait for the response. I probably could have gotten away with ringing just once, but what can I say? I want to make an entrance.

  “Coming,” a female voice, most likely Melissa, calls. “Oh. Hi, Mira. Skylar. Hold on a second.” It’s indeed Melissa that opens the door, not inviting us in,

  and going back inside.

  Turning my head, I give Skylar my crazy eyes, signaling that this chick is off her rocker. Who doesn’t invite someone in when they know the visitor? Hell if I know.

  Danny comes around the corner and my eyes filter back to the angry look I’ve been perfecting during the drive here. With my face drawn tight, back stiff and hands on my hips, Danny apprehensively approaches, the tension between all of us hanging thick in the air.

  “Uhhh, hey guys,” he says when he reaches the door, opening it for us to enter. Yes, this is how you greet someone you know when they come a knockin’. Not that “hold on a minute” shit. Oh, maybe Melissa’s still mad that I tried to beat her ass. Well, at the time, bitch had it coming.
>
  “So, what’s going on?” Danny asks, sitting on the edge of the sofa.

  I take a seat on the recliner, Skylar standing behind me, hands on my shoulders in a protective stance. I’m just not sure if it’s to protect Danny in case my pregnancy hormones rear their ugly head and I lunge for the asshole who decided to omit details about my first baby or to keep me calm. One way or the other, it feels wonderful knowing he’s got my back.

  “Well, there’s a funny story I wanted to tell you and I just had to come immediately

  and tell you to your face. Are you ready?” Is there a better way to handle this?

  Probably. Sarcasm, you win yet again.

  “Ummm, okay,” Danny skeptically replies.

  “Here it goes. Once upon a time, there was a girl who was in a pretty bad accident

  with her ex. She ended up in a coma and woke up in love with another man. After

  she was back from the living dead, literally, someone who she was supposed to trust

  kinda lied to her. He never told her that she had been pregnant and lost the baby,” I pause, gauging for reaction, and oh boy do I get it. All the color drains from his face and his jaw hits the floor.

  “By the look on your face, I’m guessing you’ve already heard this story before.”

  Skylar squeezes my shoulder, either telling me that I’m doing a great job or to lay off a little. I’m gonna go with the first one, because this is too much fun to stop

  now.

  “Mira. I’m so sorry,” Danny says, rubbing at his face frantically. “I never thought to

  tell you. You were so fragile after the accident; I didn’t want to do anything to

  upset you.”

  “And you thought, like seriously thought, that me having a miscarriage was something that would be too much for me to handle. News

  flash, Danny, it’s my fucking body and I had a right to know. I don’t think I’ve

  ever been so pissed in my life. You … you should have told me. And the doctors. Fuck those doctors. I might use one of Jacoby’s attorneys to deal with them,” I