by Stella
I rolled my eyes when I realized what he was talking about. I couldn’t text and drive—or walk and chew gum for that matter.
Me: Don’t you have a game to concentrate on? And how do you have a phone anyhow?
Sperm Donor: Bottom of the ninth. We creamed them. And don’t you worry about how I got a phone.
I tossed the cell into the seat next to me and drove to the tiny practice Gage had found. Gage Nix picking my OBGYN was a tad terrifying until I realized how much privacy I got out of it. If and when he was with me, he always drew a crowd anywhere we went. Dr. Jamison was an older man who didn’t have an inkling who Gage was, people kept to themselves in the waiting room, and the staff was friendly.
“Miss Crisp?” The nurse stood at the open door into the reception area.
I got up and followed her to an exam room. I hadn’t been nervous until she instructed me to sit on the table. The site of the stirrups freaked me out a bit, and I was reminded that there was a silent problem I couldn’t see or feel that lurked inside my uterus and dangerously close to my cervix. It was easy to forget about it when I was lying in bed stuffing my face and watching baseball for hours at a time. Maybe Gage was right; maybe we were having a boy—I’d always hated baseball and then suddenly, I’m glued to the screen. And not just Gage’s games. My brain promptly forgot how to do basic addition and subtraction, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember to pull something out of the oven even with the buzzer going off, yet I’d become a database for baseball statistics. It was odd, and I attributed it to more testosterone in my body, which in turn meant the baby had a bat instead of a glove. Another suspicion I’d keep from Mr. Nix.
Dr. Jamison asked me a hundred questions about how I felt, what I ate, bleeding or spotting, and on and on. Just like the last time I was here, I felt great. I hadn’t had any problems other than the rubber band fastening my jeans.
“You ready to get a look?”
“Yep.” I wasn’t terribly talkative.
Once again, the nurse helped me lie back, goo covered my stomach, and he pressed the wand to my belly. I watched him measure organs and body parts and label them on the screen and was impressed with how well he did that with one hand while controlling the ultrasound conductor with the other. He’d never asked what I did for a living—not that I was currently employed—and I’d never offered, even when he spent time explaining things I already understood. I just listened when he talked and smiled while I watched the monitor. Unfortunately, he didn’t spend long enough letting me enjoy time with the baby. It wasn’t a secret what I was here for, and as much as Gage wanted pictures, the real concern had to be addressed.
Dr. Jamison continued clicking on the keyboard, and I had no idea what the nurse was doing or why she was even in the room. Then suddenly, he put the wand in the holder and snapped off his latex gloves. The suspense was unbearable; meanwhile, he acted like he was out for a leisurely walk in the park.
“Things appear to be working themselves out. Even though the placenta is moving, it’s not moving as fast as I’d like to see. I’m confident as the baby grows and the uterus stretches, it will clear the cervix.”
That was good news. It wasn’t great because I wasn’t in the clear; even still, it was encouraging and optimistic.
“Let’s see you back at twenty weeks. I’d be willing to bet at that point, the previa will have passed. You might want to bring Dad for that one if you guys want to know the gender.”
Nope. Nope. Nope.
I wasn’t offering a gender-reveal option to Gage. If he thought he could prove he was having a son, he’d walk home from anywhere in the country to get a look between the little avocado’s legs. And I wasn’t ready to accept it being a boy. I’d heard all about how Gage was as a child, and I’d seen him as an adult—we needed pink, not blue. Since I couldn’t guarantee that outcome, I refused to learn the sex of the baby until the day she came.
“Bonnie will get you copies of the images, and if you’d like a disc, we can put the video on a CD for you for Dad.”
“That would be great.”
My cell phone still sat where I left it when I had pulled out of the driveway. And there were multiple text messages from Gage letting me know he was back at the hotel and waiting for me.
Me: Leaving the office now. I’ll FaceTime you when I get home so you can see the pictures.
Sperm Donor: Send them now.
Me: You’re impatient.
Sperm Donor: No, excited.
Sperm Donor: Everything good?
Me: Cautiously, yes.
Sperm Donor: What does that mean?
I should have just called him and put him on speakerphone. It was no wonder his best friend was a three-year-old. They had the same attention span and level of patience.
Me: It means you’ll have to wait until I get home.
Sperm Donor: Rude.
Less than fifteen minutes later, I hiked up the stairs and into Gage’s room. I really just needed to start leaving my things over here when he was gone. Going back and forth across the hall was pointless. With the rubber-band pants gone and sweats on, I called Gage, who must’ve had his finger on the screen waiting for the phone to ring.
“Burnt To A Crisp, tell me what you know.”
“Are you bouncing on the bed?”
His head, shoulders, and chest moved up and down, over and over. “Exercise ball.”
I didn’t ask. “The placenta has moved a little.”
He didn’t give me a chance to continue before he stopped bouncing and the color drained from his face. “Why the hell did you drive home?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“What if you hemorrhage?”
When I told him about the placenta previa, I didn’t stop to think that my knowledge of the issue was greater than his, which wasn’t fair. He worried enough without me leaving him in the dark. I’d thought he understood after all the research he did, yet seeing his expression indicated that wasn’t true.
“It’s a good thing. We want it to move.”
“I don’t understand. Doesn’t that put you at risk for it breaking and you bleeding out?” That was a tad melodramatic. Again, my fault.
“Think of my uterus as a balloon. The baby is inside the balloon.”
“That’s not safe. There are warning labels all over those things to keep them away from infants—yet they sell them for birthday parties. Bastards.”
“Do you want to stay in the dark, or would you like to know what’s going on with your baby?”
“Baby.”
“So, the fetus is inside the balloon. Now, imagine there’s a sticker near the opening where the air comes out—the opening would be the cervix, and the sticker would represent the placenta. You with me so far?”
“Yep.” He’d started bouncing slightly, and his cheeks regained some color.
“As the baby grows and the balloon gets bigger, the sticker stretches and moves farther away from the opening. Since I’m not all that big—although I feel like a blimp—the sticker hasn’t moved much, yet. Dr. Jamison is confident it will clear the cervix before my next ultrasound.”
“When is that?”
“On the twelfth of next month. It’s a home game, so I scheduled it in the morning in case you want to go.”
“Of course. We can find out the sex of the baby at that visit, right?”
“How did you know that?” So much for keeping that little secret to myself.
He rolled over on the ball to the nightstand in the hotel room and held up his baby bible. I cringed, wondering what kind of argument this would bring.
“I think we should wait to find out the gender.”
“What? Why?”
“So it’s a surprise.”
“It will be a surprise—on the twelfth. I haven’t gotten to be there for any of this stuff; let me have this one. Please?”
“Ugh. I’d say you can find out and I’ll wait except that would never work.”
“Why? I can
keep a secret.”
“You’ll gloat if it’s a boy and pout if it’s a girl. You might not say the words, but even Corinne could pick up on that with no trouble.”
“She wants you to have a boy, too.” His relationship with Corinne could thaw the coldest of hearts.
“Why’s that?”
“So she can marry a Nix, and they can ride off into the sunset on ponies together.” He looked at me like I was an idiot for not realizing why a three-year-old cared about the gender of our child. “She wants to wear her Easter dress and pin flowers to Sherbet’s hair. I tried to tell her I didn’t think that dress would still fit for their wedding and ponies don’t make very good flower girls, but she wasn’t having any of that.”
“Who’s Sherbet?”
He rolled his eyes. “Her pony. Duh.”
“Corinne has a pony? Where’d she get it?”
“From me, silly. Three is a big birthday—I had to make it special, especially since I couldn’t go to her party.”
“So you sent a pony for the kids to ride at the party?” I was sure Coby and Ellie loved that surprise showing up on their doorstep. “That was…nice of you.”
“No…” He stared up at the ceiling, shaking his head just slightly. “That would be like sending her a box of crayons and telling her she can’t use them. I gave Corinne her own pony—to keep.”
“Please tell me you asked Coby first.”
“Of course not. She’s my best friend. I can give her anything I want for her birthday.”
I didn’t even want to think about Coby or Ellie’s reaction to that delivery. Thank God my name hadn’t been attached to it.
“But don’t worry…I told her it was from the both of us.” He winked like he’d somehow done me a favor. “Come on, enough of the chitchat, show me what you’ve got.”
Gage and I spent the rest of the afternoon and into the evening looking at the ultrasound pictures, and I played the video on his computer for him to watch, even though I was sure it was grainy and hard to see. He didn’t care. He had me play it three separate times for different guys on the team while he beamed with pride.
“You look tired, Katiebug. Why don’t you get some sleep? You’re going to need it tomorrow.”
“What’s going on tomorrow?” It was so easy to mess with him.
“I’m wounded.”
“Are you going to be late?” I stared at a calendar like most women stared at a clock when it came to a man. I wasn’t ready to try to determine if it was just having company that I craved, relationship-free sex—mind blowing, I might add—or Gage himself.
“Probably. But I don’t mind waking you up for a Nix-fix.”
“Good luck in the game. And be safe coming home.”
“See you tomorrow. I’m glad things went well today. I’m sorry I wasn’t with you.”
“It’s okay. You’ll be there for the next one.”
Without knowing what time to expect Gage—regardless of how badly I wanted to see him…or feel him—I didn’t even attempt to stay awake. Nine o’clock was late for me these days, and it took no effort to fall asleep. I wanted to believe he wasn’t getting his fix when he wasn’t home, and it was easier to convince myself of that since he’d started with all the FaceTime sessions. But that was an assumption I couldn’t make. Just because I was pining away for him to spend some time between my thighs didn’t mean he had any loyalty to me. We weren’t in a relationship. Hell, neither of us even liked each other—or we didn’t at one point. That seemed to have changed a lot with this trip as well. I hadn’t spent any time thinking about how many hours the two of us actually talked…about nothing. Suffice it to say, a nap would do me good. Then, whenever he did show up, if he wanted to play, I’d be up for it.
What I should have done was eat my Wheaties and chugged some Gatorade. It was safe to say, Gage hadn’t satisfied any urges while he’d been gone, and he made up for each one of the ten days he was away. Thoroughly sated, I closed my eyes as the sun started to peek through the blinds to welcome a new day, and I allowed myself to burrow into Gage’s side, knowing he’d be home every night for the next week.
Chapter Seven
Gage
I’d made it a habit to grab my phone as soon as a game ended to call Katie. At first, it was to check on her, and if it were a late game, to say goodnight. But over time, I found myself yearning for the last inning and the final out, regardless of the score, just to hear her voice. I didn’t want to overthink it or psych myself up for what it meant. I had allowed myself to become invested in Missy, thought she would be there forever, only for her to walk away while stomping all over my heart. I didn’t want to risk that happening with Katie. Considering we were having a child together, I trusted that she wouldn’t just walk out. But if I gave her the freedom to hurt me, and she did, I’d be reminded of that pain for the rest of my life. So to protect myself, I refused to analyze my need to talk to her after every away game.
The screen lit up just before the phone unlocked with my thumbprint. It was only a split second, but long enough to see Katie had sent me a text. She knew I was in the middle of a game, so when I saw her name, my chest immediately constricted. It was absurd, considering there was a better chance of it being something stupid to make me laugh before calling her than it being something serious. She had the numbers to call if she needed to get ahold of me. However, rational thought was fleeting on a good day and almost nonexistent toward the end of a string of away games.
When her text came up, I couldn’t breathe.
Baby Mama: Call me when you get this.
Baby Mama: I’m fine. Don’t freak out.
I couldn’t tap the call icon fast enough.
“Hey, hold on a minute,” she said when she answered. And then her voice sounded farther away like she’d set the phone down.
The more I listened, the more I heard noises I couldn’t recognize. I tried to convince myself she was at the grocery store, but it wasn’t true. Even though I couldn’t make out what was said, there was no doubt in my mind it was a serious conversation. With a man.
“Sorry, they were just updating me, and I didn’t want to let your call go to voicemail.”
“Where are you?”
“Um…the hospital. But before—”
“The hospital? Oh my God. What happened? Are you okay? What about the baby?”
“Gage!” Her harsh tone felt like a slap across my face, although it served its purpose—she gained my attention. “Everything is fine with the baby and me. I was in a minor car accident, and the EMTs wanted me to come here to get checked out since I’m pregnant. It’s just precautionary.”
“A minor accident?” The world was spinning, and I couldn’t find my bearings.
“Yeah, an old lady ran into me at a stop light. A fender bender. Honestly, I’m more shaken up than anything. They did a complete scan, and now we’re just waiting for the results, but they think there’s nothing to worry about.”
“You drove yourself to the hospital?”
She was quiet for a moment, which didn’t settle my nerves one bit. “Not really.”
“Katie…start talking.” I had somehow walked into a quiet corner, and I wasn’t about to leave until I had answers. I was minutes away from flying home and telling Coach to play tomorrow’s game without me.
“Well, when she hit me, I hit the SUV in front of me, so my car had damage to the front and back. They had to tow it. I felt bad for the woman who initiated it. As soon as she realized I was pregnant, she started to cry.”
I didn’t give two shits about the old lady or how upset she was. My one and only concern was for Katie and my unborn child. “When are you supposed to get the results from the scan?”
“Not sure. The nurse said it shouldn’t take long to read, but I guess they’re kind of busy tonight, so who knows when the doctor will get to it.”
“Okay, I’m going to make a few calls and then call you right back. Make sure you answer. I want to be on the phone wh
en the doctor comes in.” I barely said goodbye before hanging up and dialing Coby’s number. “Is Ellie home?”
“Hello to you, too. And it’s one thing to call my daughter, kinda different when you call for my wife.”
“It’s Katie.” That was all I needed to say to get his attention. “She’s at the hospital.”
“Is she okay?” Concern dripped from his voice.
“She says she is, but we’re still waiting for the results. She was in an accident, apparently nothing major, but she doesn’t have her car. It had to be towed. Is there any way you or Ellie could pick her up and take her home? I’m gonna look up flights while we’re waiting for the doctor.”
“Absolutely. I’ll send Ellie. I’m sure she’ll be more helpful than I would be.”
“Thanks, Coby. I really appreciate it.”
I called Katie back and had her on speaker while I found the next available flight home. She kept telling me it wasn’t necessary—I only had one more game before the team was back in Tuscaloosa, waiting another day wouldn’t make a difference. I didn’t care if I only had one more hour, this was yet another reason to add to my ever-growing list of why I couldn’t do this anymore.
Thankfully, it didn’t take long before the doctor came in with the results of the ultrasound. Katie put me on speakerphone so I could hear the whole thing and ask questions if I needed. Which I did. In fact, I asked so many questions that Katie cut me off. As it turns out, asking if the seatbelt had been able to move the placenta away from the cervix was a waste of the good man’s time. Actually, she said using the balloon analogy when he didn’t answer my question was the true waste of time.
After being cleared and getting her discharge papers, she let me go. I told her Ellie would be there to pick her up, which she didn’t sound too excited about. Though that didn’t stop her from using it to argue why I needed to stay in Kansas City one more day instead of flying back tonight. I promised I’d leave as soon as tomorrow’s game ended, and then she hung up.
