Chapter 14

"Look at the feet." Bennett turns the picture for me to see but my head is still spinning. "I don't know"—he looks back at the picture—"it might be a girl."

"Bennett," I say between clenched teeth. "This can't be," I try to whisper-yell at him. "She's wrong. We need to get a second opinion."

"What?" he says, shocked, and holds the pictures to his chest. "We were right there, we saw the screen."

"Well, her screen is broken." I put my shoes on, huffing, "She said I was eleven weeks, and that's impossible."

"No, it's not." He shakes his head. "She said it's normal."

"Your boobs are bigger." He points out and I glare at him. "What? You don't think your boobs are bigger?"

"They are not," I say, but just this morning I noticed that they are fuller. "More sensitive, yes."

"Yes," I say out loud and the door opens and the nurse sticks her head in.

"Is everything okay in here?" she asks.

"We are fine," I say with a fake smile and then turn to Bennett. "Aren't we?"

"No," he says, shaking his head, "my girlfriend…"

"Not girlfriend," I correct him and now it's his turn to glare at me.

"The woman with the child in her"—he points at me—"that is mine." He points at himself and everything in me wants to stab him right now. "Is not comfortable with some of the details that the doctor told her. Would there be any way where we could get a second opinion?"

"It's not that I'm uncomfortable," I start to say, getting flustered. "It's just that she said I was close to eleven weeks. And well, I've had my period."

"I can get the ultrasound technician to come in and give you another opinion," she says, smiling at me. "Let me see if I can get her."

"Because you are." His voice is very calm as he walks over to me putting the pictures down on the table. He holds his hands up to cup my face. "Hey," he soothes and my hands shake as I look at him. "This is going to ease your mind, so why not just ask?" He kisses my lips softly. "It's okay to ask questions." I don't have much time to think about anything or say anything to him because there is a knock on the door. "Trust me," he says and I just roll my eyes.

"I trusted you to put the condom on properly, and look at what happened there," I mumble as the door opens and a woman comes in.

"Hi," she says, smiling at us. "I was told that mommy has questions for me."

"I can understand how that would be confusing," she says, putting her hand in her lab coat. "If you want, I can check it again just to put your mind at ease." I nod at her. "But having a period while pregnant in the first trimester isn't that irregular. It happens to thirty percent of women." She walks over to the computer and opens up the ultrasound report. "This is an ultrasound of a six-week scan." The picture looks like a blob if I'm honest. "And this is yours."

"Oh, well," I say, seeing that it actually looks like a baby.

"If you want, I can take measurements just to confirm it, but these tell me what your doctor said was correct."

"But will the bleeding harm the baby?" Bennett asks her for me.

"If you start bleeding now at this stage"—she looks at me—"it's more concerning than last month. This period that you had, was it heavy or just spotting?"

"I can't really remember, but I know that the last one was like spotting for two days." I think back. "It was a busy time that month, so I chalked it up to stress."

"Thank you," I say to her, "for answering my questions."

"Don't be shy," she tells me. "Your body is going to be changing in the next six months and we are here to help you in any way we can. Trust me, there is no question that is stupid or that we haven't heard before." I don't say anything to her; instead, I just nod at her and she turns to walk out of the room.

"There, are you happy now?" Bennett says, grabbing the pictures that he put down.

"No," I lie to him, "but now I have to go and tell my mother."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asks me and I just shake my head.

"No, I think I should do this alone," I reply to him and he nods at me and follows me out of the room.

"Thank you," I say softly and look down at the picture, my heart speeding up for a second before I put it away in my purse. The drive to my mother's is quiet, and when we pull up, he just looks over at me. "You sure you don't want me to come in and take the focus off you?"

"I'm having her grandchild.” I laugh. "There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that is going to take the focus off me."

"This is true," he says. "Will you call me later?"

"No," I say, getting out of the car, "I might be held hostage." After I close the door, he rolls the window down and I can hear him laughing.

"Godspeed, gorgeous," he encourages and I just shake my head walking up the driveway. I hear him drive away and my stomach sinks.

"I'm at Mom’s," I tell her and then hear the front door open and she walks out with the phone at her ear.

"You don't say," she says with Shelby right behind her. "You think we didn't know you would come right here."

"I wasn't missing this for anything in the world,” Shelby declares. "If I had to camp here for the week, I was willing to do that."

"We might as well get this over with," I say, walking up the steps and putting my phone away. "I'm going to need you two to take a shot of scotch for me since I can't."

"So we are with child?" Clarabella asks me and I glare at her. "I can see that this child is taking away all the fun in you." She turns on her heels. "Mom, your baby is home."

"Lies," I mumble, walking into the house and finding my mother standing in the living room with tears already running down her face. "Why is she crying?"

"She thinks you're dying,” Clarabella states.

"I wish," I say under my breath, looking at Shelby who is pouring two shots of scotch. Clarabella joins her and they click the glasses together before downing the shots.

"What is wrong with you two?" my mother shouts, throwing her hands in the air. "Your sister"—she looks back to me—"has news."

"I do have news," I confirm, walking into the living room and deciding that perhaps I should sit down for this. I let out a deep breath. "I don't think there is any good way to say what I'm going to say."

"Like a Band-Aid," Shelby says, coming to sit next to me.

"Oh, God," my mother utters, sitting down on the lone chair looking at me. "How bad is it?"

"I'm pregnant." I say the two words, never taking my eyes off my mother. There really is no other way to come out and say it. The minute I say the words, my hand goes straight to my stomach holding it, almost as if I'm protecting the baby from something.

"What?" Clarabella says, shocked. "This is brand-new information." She comes over and sits on the other side of me.

"Shut up." My mother glares at her and then turns her glare to me. "What do you mean, you're pregnant?"

"I mean, I think it's pretty much self-explanatory,” Shelby says, trying not to laugh.

"I'm eleven weeks pregnant," I share, and now even my sisters gasp out.

"That's like three months,” Clarabella says.

"I know," I say, opening my purse and taking out the picture, my baby. I stare down at the picture of my child and I can't see through my blurry vision because of the tears filling my eyes. My baby is the only thing that comes to my mind; the tightness in my chest makes it feel like my heart is coming up to my throat. "I was just as shocked. I even needed to get a second opinion, I was that much in shock."

"Presley Marie Baker," my mother grinds out with clenched teeth as she gets up, "you better tell me what the fuck is going on."

"She swore," Clarabella whispers. "This does not bode well, don't look at her. Look away." She looks down at her hands.

"I don't think she needs to draw you a picture, Mom." Shelby laughs, leaning back on the couch.

"You"—my mother points at her—"mind your business. You"—she points at Clarabella—"not a word." Clarabella pretends to zip her mouth and throw away the key. "You"—she points at me—"talk."

"Well, like Shelby said, I don't think there is much to say." My mouth goes suddenly dry. "According to the doctor, everything is fine."

"Who got you pregnant?" she asks me, sitting back down.

"Say Jesus," Clarabella says under her breath, pretending to look around her.

"I don't know if that matters," I avoid, getting up wanting to walk to the bar and take a shot, but instead I walk over to the kitchen. The whole time all I can hear is my heartbeat echoing in my ears. The nerves take over and fill my body and my hand shakes as I pull open the fridge. The back of my neck gets hot and even my armpits start to get a touch sweaty. I'm about to grab a bottle of water but then see sweet tea beside it and choose that instead.

"What are you talking about, it doesn't matter?" My mother gets up and turns to look at me.

"I mean, it doesn't matter," I repeat, pouring myself some of the sweet tea and drinking it. "This would be so much better if it was peach flavor."

"She's worried about peach tea when she should be worried about who the father is." My mother throws up her hands.

"Relax there, Mom." Clarabella gets up. "She knows exactly who the father is." I glare at Clarabella. "What? You don't think she's going to find out when he's, I don't know, in the delivery room with you?"

"Ugh, fine," I concede but then look at my mother. "You can't freak out," I say, knowing that she is going to freak out and knowing that her freaking out isn't going to help the fact that inside I'm freaking out just as much.

"Why would I freak out?" My mother puts her hands on her hips. "When have I ever freaked out?"

"Bennett," my mother says. "Bennett, Bennett?"

"I mean, I don't know how many Bennetts you know," I say, "but yes." The smile fills my face when I say his name and think about how happy he was to have the baby's picture.