Page 98 of Goal Line
Dress like you’re going to a fancy brunch. I’m driving to Eva’s OB appointment but will send you more details soon.
Dr. Lowery knocks on the door before pushing it open, then sweeping into the room in her white lab coat and blue scrubs, before setting her laptop on the counter and turning toward us.
She takes one look at me sitting next to Eva and holding her hand, then her eyes focus in on where Eva lies on the exam table in the cotton gown, her left hand resting under the curve of her belly. She looks back up at us with one dark eyebrow raised and amusement written across her features. “Just friends, huh?”
“Maybe not so much, anymore,” Eva says with a soft smile.
Dr. Lowery gives us a nod as she swings one leg over her stool and settles down on it, rolling herself toward us.
Eva tilts her head to the side to look up at me while Dr. Lowery picks up the clipboard the nurse left on the counter, and I lift her hand to kiss the back of it. It feels great to be here as her actual partner, and not just as a friend. A moment later, Dr. Lowery clears her throat, as though she’s reminding us that we don’t need to be looking at each other like two love-sick fools in her exam room.
“Let’s listen to this baby’s heartbeat,” she says. Her voice is slightly tight, all traces of the amusement from moments before having vanished. What the hell was on that clipboard?
She picks up the small doppler and a tube of gel and sets them on the exam table near Eva’s hip. “I’m going to untie this part of your gown,” she says as she takes the tie around Eva’s waist and tugs to loosen the bow, before pulling each piece of fabric aside to reveal her belly.
I don’t know what it is about my wife being pregnant that does things to me, but for some reason, it’s a huge turn-on. I can’t look at Eva’s body and not think about having sex with her. I don’t know if this is what it’s always like once you’ve had sex with someone, or if it’s because I’ve waited so long for her, or because she’s pregnant—but whatever the reason,I’m about to be sporting a hard-on in the doctor’s office, which is not okay.
Turning my head away from her body, and looking up at her face, I see the same concern etched there that I just felt a moment ago, before I was distracted by her half-naked body.
Fuck, man, get it together.I’m here to support her, not to be thinking about having sex with her.
I squeeze her hand, and she tilts her head to the side to look at me again. I hate the worry I see in her eyes and wish there was something I could do to alleviate it. When Dr. Lowery runs the doppler over Eva’s belly, the baby’s heartbeat—the distinctchug, chug, chugcoming through some background static—fills the small room, and we both breathe a sigh of relief.
Glancing at Dr. Lowery, I note that she’s still listening intently, but then she nods and says, “The heartbeat sounds good.”
“Were you expecting that it wouldn’t?” Eva asks, her voice tight with worry.
“No, but your blood pressure is quite a bit higher than when you were last here, and you’re measuring small for how far along you are. The former can be risky for the baby’s development, and the latter can be a sign that something’s wrong. However, you’re an athlete and you were barely showing at all the last time I saw you, whereas you’re clearly showing now, so that, combined with the steady heartbeat, are both good signs. Still, I’d like to do another ultrasound, just to be extra safe.”
Eva’s grip tightens around my hand, and her voice is quiet when she says, “Okay.”
“Listen,” Dr. Lowery says as she sets her hand on Eva’sshoulder. “There’s no indication that you need to worry right now. This ultrasound is just a precaution so we can rule out any issues, and then you’ll be able to rest easy, knowing that everything is okay with the baby.”
Eva nods, and then we move next door to the room with the ultrasound equipment. Together, we watch the baby come into view. Baby Squash is much bigger than the last time we were here and moves around as Dr. Lowery slides the wand across Eva’s belly. She uses the mouse in her other hand to click on different parts of the screen, taking measurements just like she did last time.
Finally, she says, “Your baby appears to be growing normally, so there’s nothing to worry about. And if you’d like to know the baby’s sex, I can check right now.”
Eva glances at me, and I try to keep my expression neutral. As badly as I want to know, it has to be her decision. Her eyebrows lift hopefully, and her eyes are full of tears. “Yeah?”
I nod, blinking back my own tears. “Yeah.”
“All right,” Eva says, turning toward Dr. Lowery with a loud sniff. “Let’s find out.”
“Okay, Baby,” Dr. Lowery says as she digs the wand into Eva’s belly, moving it around while looking at the screen, “let’s give us that view we need.” It takes a few minutes of us sitting there, our fingers threaded together as we squeeze each other’s hands in anticipation, before Dr. Lowery sucks in a breath and says, “You see those three faint lines there?” She uses the mouse to circle the area on the screen. “That’s our indication that you’re having a baby girl.”
There are tears streaming down Eva’s face, and it worries me that I can’t tell whether they’re happy tears or not. I scootcloser, leaning in to rest my forehead against hers. “You okay?”
Her chest shakes, but it could be silent laughter or a silent sob. “Yeah.”
“Just so you’re aware,” I tell her, sitting back slightly so I can look at her. “I’m planning to be the best girl dad ever.”
She does laugh at that, and the sight of her smile is such a welcome presence. “I have no doubt.”
Given her relationship with her own mother, I’m guessing that she’s having a lot of complicated emotions about having a daughter. “You know what else? You’re going to be an amazing mother. We’ve got this, Evie. You and me.”
She nods, more tears spilling onto her cheeks, and Dr. Lowery says, “I’m going to give you two a moment. Take as long as you need. And then, check in with my nurse, Val, before you leave. She’ll give you some instructions for monitoring your blood pressure, and talk to you about things to watch out for. And we’ll schedule you to come in weekly, now.”
“Oh! Before you leave,” Eva says, followed by a deep sigh. “You know that, biologically speaking, this isn’t Luke’s child. But we are telling people that it—she—is. There’s going to be an article inSocietymagazine next week, about our surprise pregnancy and marriage. I know HIPAA regulations would prevent you from saying anything anyway, but I just wanted to make sure you knew our story so you’re not caught off guard.”
