Page 136 of The Pucking Date
“They’re kind of hard to make out unless you know what you’re looking for.”
I stare at the black and white grainy blur like it’s a goddamn masterpiece. “That little blob there?” she says, pointing. “That’s our baby.”
My throat tightens. “That’s our kid.”
She grins. “Now look over here.”
She taps another faint shadow just to the side of the first.
“You see that?” she asks casually. “What do you think it is?”
I squint. “Is that...a penis? It’s a boy?”
She snorts, laughing. “Wow. Straight to the goods, huh?”
“You asked,” I say, grinning. “Looked kind of proud.”
“Relax, caveman. It’s still too early to tell.” She leans in close, her smile wicked. “It’s a second baby.”
I blink. “Wait—what?”
“Twins.” She’s beaming now. “Two. As in double trouble. You are apparently very potent, Carolina.”
I just stare at the printout. “Holy shit.”
Jessica hums, smug. “I mean, one time. With protection,at that. Andboom—two babies? Pretty sure we just rewrote the biology textbooks.”
I exhale a stunned laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Jesus, Red. You’re not just carrying my kid. One more, and you’d be carrying a full line.”
“Strong swimmers,” she teases.
“Hall of fame swimmers,” I mutter, still staring at the sonogram. My heart is thudding against my ribs. “Do we...know the genders?”
“Like I said, too early to confirm. But...” She hesitates, then adds, “Wai Po swears it’s a boy and a girl. And she’s got a track record.”
I look at her, startled. “Wai Po?”
She nods. “My Chinese grandmother. My mother’s mother. She told me I’m having twins, and the doctor confirmed it yesterday.”
“And she said a boy and a girl?”
“With no hesitation.”
I laugh, full and free and stunned. “And you believed her?”
“I didn’tnotbelieve her. But I also didn’t expect to walk into my OB and hear ‘congratulations, it’s a matched set.’”
I pull her fully onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her, the sonogram still in my hand.
“You’re carrying our babies,” I whisper against her breast. “Our family. You have no idea how that wrecks me.”
“Good wrecked or bad wrecked?”
“Best kind of wrecked, darlin’. The kind that makes a man want to be better.”
She nods, resting her head on my chest again, heartbeat syncing with mine.
“You’ll come to the next appointment?” she whispers.
