Chapter 18 #2
On the verge of wetting her low-rise newly purchased maternity pants.
Not to mention that she was anxious—terrified that the test would show something wrong with the baby.
She grabbed the magazine next to her on the table and flipped through it to distract herself. It was a news magazine and showed graphic images of bodies littering the ground as workers shifted through earthquake rubble. Lovely.
Someone sat down in the chair next to her. Tossing the magazine, Mandy looked up to smile politely.
It was Damien.
Wearing his suit, carrying the jacket, tie perfectly straight, looking gorgeous and masculine and very, very close.
“Hi,” he said, his shoulder brushing hers, and he took her hand, stroked it. “They didn’t call you in yet?”
Mandy shook her head. “What are you doing here?” She needed to tell him to leave. It wasn’t a good idea for him to be here. Anyone could see them together, get the wrong idea. Or worse, she herself might get the wrong idea.
“I just thought you might want some company. Good news is better shared.”
Now damn it, just when she decided she should really send him packing, he had to go and say something lovely.
His touch was reassuring, gentle, and she wondered how it was that he could so easily read into her fears and doubts and sympathize with them, ease them.
Maybe it was because he had known pain, understood fear.
“It’s going to be good news, right, Damien?”
“Of course it is. But if not-so-good, then I’m here.” He kissed her forehead, then smiled. “How’s your bladder?”
“At capacity.”
“Mandy Keeling?” A technician stood in the open door with a file folder in her hand.
Thank God. “Yes.” Mandy stood up and walked gingerly toward the door, afraid she might be sloshing.
“Dad can come, too.” The technician smiled at her and gestured Damien forward. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to miss the show.”
Now would be a good time to explain that Damien wasn’t the father, but she really didn’t feel like getting into it with the woman. Besides, she wanted someone with her. She wanted Damien with her.
“Do you want to come?” She turned back to him.
He was already standing and walking toward her. She’d take that as a yes. Mandy glanced at her watch. “I thought you had a one o’clock conference call. It’s twelve-thirty already.”
“I moved it to tomorrow.”
“You moved your own appointment?” She was stunned.
“I can move appointments,” he said, sounding offended.
“Right in here.” The technician stopped and let them move ahead of her into a darkened room.
“My name is Cheryl, and I’ll be doing your scan.
It takes about ten minutes, and then you’ll get to go to the restroom.
I’ll give you some pictures of the baby and you’ll be on your way.
The results get sent to your doctor and will be in your chart as well so you can see them later. This is your first baby, right?”
“Yes,” Damien said.
Mandy frowned at him. “I think she was talking to me.”
Cheryl laughed. “Okay, lie on your back on the table and roll down the waistband of your pants.”
“You’re doing a transabdominal exam, correct?” Damien asked.
Mandy kicked her sandals off and stared at him. She was going to have to wrest that damn pregnancy book out of his hands.
“Yes.” Cheryl busied herself with her equipment.
Mandy climbed onto the table feeling whatever small amount of grace she’d possessed had disappeared. And she was only half through her pregnancy. Damien’s hand grabbed her elbow and he helped her down.
She pulled up her sky blue stretchy top and peeled down her black pants an inch or two, staring at the ceiling and grabbing a couple of deep breaths. Everything was going to be normal and she was going to see her baby.
Damien’s fingers on her stomach startled her. “I think you have to pull your pants down farther.”
If he started tugging down her pants she was going to smack him. But Cheryl was already shoving them down and tucking a towel into her underwear. Not very dignified, but the technician explained it would keep the gel from getting on her clothes.
“How does the test work?” Mandy asked.
“The instrument records echoes of sound waves as they bounce off the baby and translates them into pictures on the screen.”
Only that came from Damien, not the technician.
“Are you in the medical field?” Cheryl asked as she squirted the cool gel all over Mandy’s stomach.
“No, he’s a tech executive with a desk full of baby books,” Mandy informed her. That were going to be disappearing mysteriously the next day.
Damien shrugged a little sheepishly. “I like to be well informed.”
That was an understatement. But her mild annoyance was forgotten when the wand was placed on her stomach and the first image filled the screen. It was a baby’s head, with eyes, nose, and tiny lips.
“Oh, my,” she breathed. She reached for Damien, overwhelmed with emotion. “Look at how clear that is.”
Damien’s fingers squeezed hers. “That’s unbelievable.”
Damn, she was going to cry. She was going to be one of those blubbery mothers who sniffled every time their child filled its nappy.
“There’s definitely only one.” Cheryl whipped the wand around.
Mandy ignored the discomfort she felt from the pressure and stared in amazement as various parts came into view. The spine, a perfect little hand, a foot.
“Everything looks great at first glance.”
Cheryl was clicking and freezing and measuring things on the screen while Mandy stared and Damien gave a running commentary.
“Look at that, he’s waving at us. Oh, he’s flipping around a little, trying to get comfortable, I guess. Whoa, check out the big toe.”
“What makes you think it’s a he?” Mandy thought they were looking at the bum, but she wasn’t entirely sure. “Do you see something I don’t?”
Cheryl laughed. “Do you want to know the sex? I can see if I can get a good shot for you.”
“Well, I want to know,” Damien said before she could even get her mouth open.
She stared at him. Up to this point, she hadn’t been concerned with whether it was a boy or a girl, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. It seemed like a special surprise at the end. “I don’t think I want to know.”
“She can just tell me and I’ll keep it a secret.”
Damien seemed to have forgotten one minor little detail.
This wasn’t his baby. But he looked so enchanted, so excited for her, that she couldn’t bring herself to say anything.
Maybe it was the emotion of the moment. Maybe it was her appreciation for all he had done for her.
But it seemed to her that maybe, just a little bit, she had fallen in love with Damien Sharpton.
“I’m not going to have you know when I don’t know.” She laughed, picturing Damien trying to keep that a secret. One glance at his desk would unearth a copy of Raising Girls or something similar, and she would have the answer whether she wanted it or not.
“So is that a yes or a no?” Cheryl asked.
He looked at her in agony, leg vibrating as he jiggled his foot. “It’s up to you.”
Oh, yes. She was in love with him. Heart swelling, fingers clutching his, tears stinging her eyes, she nodded. “Tell us.”
“It’s a girl.” Cheryl pointed to the screen. “You can see right here there are definitely no baby boy parts.”
A girl. A little girl. Pink blankets and bonnets and lacy dresses.
“A girl,” Damien breathed, staring at the screen. “She’s perfect. Like her mother.”
Maybe that was pushing things a bit, but Mandy wasn’t going to protest. She felt a single tear roll out of each eye, and she blinked hard to fight more.
“But what’s wrong with the name Rebecca?”
Not the name thing again. Mandy wiped her cheek and laughed in exasperation. “There’s nothing wrong with Rebecca. I just happen to like Cecilia.”
“That’s one of those names that sounds great with your British accent, but not as much zing when Americans say it.” He turned to Cheryl. “Which name do you like better?”
The technician held up her hand. “Whoa. I stay out of discussions like this.”
“Damien, we can talk about this later.” Much later. Like never.
“We’re almost finished here.” Cheryl started printing out the photos of the baby. “Due date comes up as October twenty-one according to the size of the fetus.”
“Hey, I wanted to ask, could you tell if there was anything wrong like an embolism or anything?” Damien asked Cheryl. “Because before we knew we shouldn’t, we had oral sex. Cunnilingus. And I wanted to make sure we didn’t inadvertently force air into the vagina.”
Mandy almost fell off the table. “Damien!” She was certain that nothing could sound more horrifying than the word cunnilingus when spoken in reference to her.
“You did not just say that.” She didn’t dare even glance at Cheryl, afraid she would melt from mortification at the horror she was sure was on the technician’s face.
“What? We’re all adults here, and I’ve been really worried about it.”
The man had the nerve to stand there looking completely innocent. Looking concerned. Looking professional. As if discussing his cunnilingus-ing her wasn’t something a bit too private for mixed company.
“You have really lost your mind. Next thing I know, you’ll probably be stopping people on the street to discuss my hemorrhoids.” Mandy took the towel Cheryl was handing her and started wiping her stomach. She winced as she pressed on her overextended bladder.
“You have hemorrhoids?” Damien exclaimed, his face twisting into a grimace.
She should let him think she did. She should promote any sort of gruesome aspect of pregnancy that would get him away from her before they both found themselves in a complicated mess.
But she couldn’t do it. She just slapped the towel down, rolled her pants up, and said, “No. No, I don’t. But you’re getting a bit personal, don’t you think?”
Cheryl handed Damien the printed photos and cleared her throat.
“As far as your question, I think you’ll need to discuss any concerns of that nature with your OB/GYN.
” Then she looked at Mandy with a smile.
“And it’s none of my business, but I think it’s great to see how involved your husband is in your pregnancy.
So many fathers aren’t interested at all. ”
Mandy felt slapped. Her cheeks went hot and she sat up abruptly. Damien wasn’t her husband. He wasn’t even her baby’s father. And he was far more supportive and interested than the man whose DNA was running through her daughter.
“We’re all done here. Restroom’s the last door on the right. Congratulations on a daughter.” Cheryl left them alone.
Mandy pulled her shirt over her sticky stomach and stood up. She felt shaky, hot.
“Damien—”
“I’m sorry,” he said at the same time.
“No—”
“I’ve completely overstepped. None of this is any of my damn business, and instead of just supporting you, I’m pushing you.
Embarrassing you. I’m sorry.” His lips were pursed, his hand clenching the ultrasound printout at his side.
In the dim lighting of the room, she couldn’t see his eyes, but she could feel his hurt. Feel him pulling back.
Which she didn’t want.
“No. Don’t be. I’m the one who should apologize. I’m being ungrateful. Here you’ve rearranged your schedule and everything.”
“I don’t want your gratitude.” The words were low, but angry.
Mandy stared at him, forgetting about putting her shoes back on, forgetting about her urgent need to use the restroom. When she looked at him, she saw what she hadn’t been able to admit to herself. She saw what she wanted. Him. With her. In a forever kind of way.
“What do you want?” she whispered.
“I want what I can’t have.” His nostrils flared.
“How do you know you can’t have it?” She was dangling on the edge of offering it. Throwing all rational actions aside and following her heart.
“Because life doesn’t give you what you want, all in one perfect package.” He reached out and handed her the photos. “There are no happy endings for me. I can only take, not give.”
“You’re wrong.” Mandy stepped into her shoes, intent on following him as Damien headed for the door. He had to understand how much he had already given her.
“No. What would be wrong would be to selfishly mix you and your daughter up in the mess that is my life.” He grabbed the door handle and turned to her. “You have no idea how truly fucked up I am, Mandy.”
“Tell me. Trust me.” What she wouldn’t give to take away that pain etched on his face.
“And have you see how ugly I really am on the inside? I don’t think so.”
He walked out of the room.
But Mandy knew right then, right there, that she wasn’t going to let him walk away from her as easily as Ben had.
She loved Damien, and he was going to know it.