Page 60 of Forever Christmas
Chapter 23: Corabelle
Sitting in the radiologist’s waiting area with my parents is an experience. My father, in his infinite wisdom, has something to say about every detail. The notices on the wall. The hairstyles of the assistants.
He makes small talk with the pregnant women, asking questions about their due dates. Mom frequently places her hand on his leg as asubtle command to shut up, but the women’s eagerness to talk about their babies keeps him going. They find it adorable that a grandfather is at a sonogram.
Then comes the question I always dread, but this time it is aimed at my father.
“Is this your first grandchild?”
The woman who asks it is mid-twenties, glowing, and obviously near her due date. She asks with such innocence.
And it is asimple question, the sort of thing you might say to anyone who expresses that they are expecting a new member of the family. It’s as ubiquitous as “When is your wedding day?” to future brides or “How old are you?” to small children.
Dad falters, glancing at Mom for guidance.
“This is our second,” Mom says. “Another boy.”
“How delightful,” the woman says, tucking a blond lock behind her earas if she hasn’t just shattered the joviality of our entire group.
Thankfully she is called back and we have the area to ourselves for a moment.
Dad decides to pretend nothing has happened, a common tactic when things are hard or awkward. “How is Tinker Bell today?” he asks.
My first instinct is to snap something like “We’ve been together for almost an hour. You already know.” But it’s thestress talking and I rein it in.
“Anxious to see how he’s doing,” I say.
We fall silent as another couple strolls in, tall and happy, holding hands. They turn in their paperwork and sit nearby. I glance at her belly, in the cute round stage of the halfway point. Gender sonogram. I wish I could be like her, happy and eager and ignorant about how things can go.
But I’m not.
My hands seek therainbow pillow, but I left it behind, feeling silly bringing it along with my parents in tow. It’s come to all the other appointments. That bit of fluff is literally the only thing we have for the baby so far. I know I’ll have to shop eventually.
“Corabelle?” The same woman as before, this time with blue tips in her hair, calls for me.
The four of us stand up.
“You got a party goin’ on outhere,” she says with a laugh.
“You changed your hair,” I say.
“Matches the stars on my scrubs,” she says, gesturing to the green shirt with blue shooting stars.
She takes us to the same room, dim and humming with the machine.
“Let me grab one more chair,” she says, hustling back out.
Gavin helps me onto the table and stands nearby as Mom sits on the lone plastic chair. The woman returnswith a second chair. “Does Dad need one too?” she asks, looking at Gavin.
“I’m happy right here,” he says.
“All right.” She comes over and arranges my clothes for me. It feels awkward having my belly exposed with my dad in the room. They hadn’t been there for the one sonogram we had with Finn.
“Shelly will be right in,” she says and steps out.
“Interesting room,” Dad says, and I want to groan.I close my eyes, counting the seconds it takes for each breath to go in and out. I’m not as bad as last time, especially since the morning sickness has faded. But it’s still stressful, waiting to hear if your baby is better or worse.
He swims in my belly like a wave rolling. I place my hand over him. He’s not quite big enough that you can see his movements from the outside yet. But I definitelyfeel them all the time.
