Page 53 of Fumbled Love

“Turn around,” I told Maverick, because he didn’t need to know my weight. Hell, I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to see the number on the scale.

“You are unbelievable,” he grumbled and rolled his eyes.

I waited until he was facing the wall before stepping on the scale. The nurse made small talk while she checked my vitals and reviewed the paperwork. Every time Maverick would crack a smile and tell a silly joke, she would blush and giggle like a teenage schoolgirl. I wouldn’t say she was flirting, but I would bet if he asked for her number, she would have gladly handed it over.

“Okay.” She stood from the rolling stool. “I will need you to put this gown on, keep it open in the front and ensure the sheet is covering the lower half of your body. Dr. Granger will be in shortly.”

While I was undressing, Maverick walked over to the stirrups and studied them. “This is my first time seeing these up close.”

He started flipping them around, and I swatted his hand away. “They aren’t toys.”

He smirked when I laid down on the exam table. “You sure? Because I bet we could have some fun with these.”

He lifted the sheet and poked his head underneath. “I can see everything from here.”

I pulled on the sheet and wrapped myself up like a burrito. “I swear to God, if you ask to play doctor, I’m kicking you out.”

He laughed. “I think I’m in the wrong profession.”

“I think I regret bringing you here.”

Thankfully, the doctor knocked on the door. I knew he was trying to take the edge off, but no matter how hard he tried, I was still ready to come out of my skin. We would hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time, which made this pregnancy feel real.

“How are you feeling, Kinley?” Dr. Granger asked as he was reviewing my chart. He was an older man with a white mustache that matched his hair, thick black glasses, and a kind smile. This was my first time meeting him. The doctor I saw on my yearly checkups had switched to another practice.

“I’m doing well.”

“No cramping or bleeding?”

I shook my head no.

“That’s great.” He walked over to the sink, washed his hands, and pulled the rolling stool up to the exam table. “Are you the father?” he asked Maverick.

“Yeah.” He swallowed deeply. All humor from earlier was gone. He seemed nervous, so I reached for his hand. His palm was warm and clammy, confirming my suspicions.

“I’m going to start with a pelvic exam and then we will check for a heartbeat. It says on the chart that you are only around six weeks.”

“Yes. Will we be able to hear the heartbeat today?”

“We usually wait until closer to ten weeks, but we should be able to detect something today.” He smiled and slid a pair of latex gloves over his hands. “Now I need you to relax and lean back while I do a quick exam.”

He pressed down on my stomach, and my eyes fluttered closed. Every time I would wince in discomfort, Maverick would squeeze my hand. I inhaled and exhaled whenever I felt a little bit of slight pressure. I opened my eyes and focused on the man at my side. It should have felt strange having him here; instead, it was calming. I was glad he flew into town for this appointment because I needed him more than I realized.

Once Dr. Granger finished, he removed his gloves and washed his hands again. “You’re doing great, kid.” He winked as he pulled the monitor closer to his stool and started clicking away at buttons. Maverick seemed to study his every move as he explained that this would be a transvaginal ultrasound and applied what looked like a condom and gel to the wand and inserted it inside me. Every few seconds, he would pause and click a few buttons on the monitor. “I’m just taking a few measurements,” he said, seeming completely at ease. Then a whooshing sound filled the room.

Knowing I was pregnant was one thing, but this feeling was on a whole other level. It was as if reality had finally come knocking on my door. I glanced at Maverick; his eyes were glued to the screen as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“That’s a good, strong heartbeat,” the doctor said, withdrawing the wand. “Based on the measurements, I’m estimating your due date to be at the end of August.”

Maverick’s head snapped up in a panic. “August?” he asked for clarification. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know why he was so nervous. Training camp started in July, and the season wouldn’t be over until February. I would be completely on my own, which was fine. I reminded myself.

“Yes, in the meantime, the nurse will give you some follow-up paperwork and make sure you schedule your next appointment,” he said, looking at me.

“Do either of you have any questions?”

We both shook our heads, still mulling over my projected due date.

As soon as he left, Maverick pulled me up into a sitting position.

---