Page 67 of Love Is Ale You Need

I move on from the poster and continue to wander around the room, poking and prodding at the different displays. In front of me is a poster that shows the growth progression of a fetus but uses food as an example. Now this is something I understand. “What do you think our kid is? A blueberry? Or a kumquat?” I turn and point at the poster.

“I’m pretty sure we’re past the blueberry stage.”

“I want to go with kumquat.”

“You just like saying the word.”

“I kind of do. Kumquat.” I move on from the food because it’s making me hungry and thoughts of eating foods that could be the size of my child doesn’t sit well. I stumble upon a model showing two fetuses. Shit. “What if we have twins?” Fuck. If there’s two babies, I don’t know what I’d do. I’m not prepared for one baby. I don’t think I can handle two.

“The chances of two babies are very unlikely, but there’s still a chance. I mean you got me pregnant while I’m on birth control. Do twins run in your family?”

I pause to think. “No.”

“Me either. So, I don’t think we need to jump to that conclusion right this second.”

“What if there’s three or five or six?”

“Now the statistics are becoming drastically lower.”

“I’m a man of chance. Good chance if it were to happen, it would happen to me.”

“Trey. Come sit down. You’re making yourself nervous and, in turn, making me nervous.” She pats the cushion next to her. In two long strides, I’m lowering myself to the chair. Her fingers intertwine with mine. “Let’s do this one step at a time. When the doctor comes in, we’ll get all the answers.”

My leg bounces as Rylee does her best to ease my nerves. The last three months of my life has been a freefall off a cliff. It’s been thrilling and frightening at the same time. With Rylee by my side, I feel like I can pull the parachute cord and soar to the ground with ease. Maybe. A couple of restless minutes later, a middle-aged woman with dark hair and a white lab coat comes in and introduces herself as Doctor Lisa Dobb, OB-GYN. They run a blood test and confirm that Rylee is, in fact, pregnant.

“Do you know how far along you might be?” Doctor Dobb asks.

I tap my chin. “Oh man. There’s so many. How do I choose?”

“You don’t just pick one,” Rylee adds.

“It could have been the time after our first date. Or when I bent you over my desk in my office. Or in the backseat…” Rylee slaps her hand over my mouth, but I keep mumbling behind it.

“Honestly, I just found out I was pregnant a couple of days ago, but I’m also on birth control. My period has always been a little irregular and spotty,” Rylee says.

Doctor Dobbs nods and makes notes on her clipboard. “As we know, birth control isn’t always one-hundred percent effective. We’ll also have to take you off your birth control.”

“I have some pretty determined swimmers.” I sit up straighter and puff out my chest.

“What is the timeframe when you first started having intercourse?” Doctor Dobbs asks.

“The first time was about three months ago,” Rylee says.

“Oh. Shit.” My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“What’s wrong?” Concern is etched all over Rylee’s face.

I run my hand over the two-day stubble on my chin. “The condom. That bachelor party was like two years ago.”

Her head jerks back. “You didn’t think it could have been expired?”

I shrug. “Your boobs were in my face. I wasn’t really thinking about the date on the condom. But either way, your birth control should have been the backup. This is your fault.”

“My fault? You’re the one with the two-year-old condom.”

“You said you were on birth control.”

“I am. And apparently it failed.”

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