Chapter 25 #2
Lix’s cheeks turn red. He tries to hide it coyly by cupping the front of his handsome face as he stares to the side.
The doctor dims the lights a little more, sparing him from observation, while she wheels the ultrasound machine closer to the bed.
Lix reaches out with his free hand, helping me lift my shirt a little.
As expected, she applies gel over my round abdomen, the feeling cool against my skin, and I resist the urge to squirm, though it certainly tickles.
Lix and Stan smile down at my helpless, near-silent giggles.
Stan braces against the rail. “Alright, kid,” he says under his breath. “It’s showtime.”
The screen flickers, then resolves into shapes I’ve come to recognize.
“There we go,” the doctor says. “Strong heartbeat.”
Lix breathes out, long and relieved.
The doctor glides the cold transducer probe around on my middle. “Everything looks good. Growth on schedule, if not only a little bit ahead.”
Stan’s eyes are glued to the screen. “I knew it,” he says. “Totally Idris’ spawn. An overachiever already.”
Lix stifles a laugh poorly. I stare sharply at Stan, who shrugs unapologetically, while the doctor spares a kind chuckle, used to Stan’s antics by now.
“Now,” the doctor says, glancing at us over her shoulder, “I believe today is the day you wanted to find out the biological sex of the baby. Is that still correct?”
“Yes,” I answer at the same time Stan says, “Absolutely,” and Lix adds, “Please.”
The doctor nods. “Alright then. Give me a moment.”
She turns away from the machine and moves toward the counter, retrieving a thin manila envelope. Coincidentally, the stationery is named after the city where Lix and Elle’s mother is from.
Stan rocks back on his heels, his hands gripping the railing tighter.
Lix’s hand finds mine again, but his skin feels a little cooler than before, and when I glance at him, his face has turned a bit pale, eyes fixed anywhere but the folder.
As for me, I notice my own heart has picked up speed, but I don’t let myself really feel it. I want to feel my baby’s heartbeat instead, so I soothe the lower part of my abdomen. My hand avoids the gel, still hoping to sense the growing life in me.
The doctor returns to my side and places the folder into my free hand. “I’ll give you three some privacy,” she says, stepping back toward the door. “Take your time. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
The door closes with a click behind her, leaving the room quieter.
The envelope feels thin between my fingers.
I’m distantly aware that my hands have started to tremble, though the rest of me remains still.
After a deep breath in, I place the folder against my beating chest and slowly open it to take the pages out.
Numbers and abbreviations face me first, familiar enough to parse without panic.
I scan methodically, line by line, which is how I approach every unknown.
Stan leans in over my shoulder, squinting.
Lix sighs through his nose and mutters, “Only Em would know how to read that, Stan.”
Stan squints harder. “Okay, why doesn’t it just say boy or girl? This feels fucking unfair. Oh, shit, I didn’t mean to swear during—” He stops himself, then curses again under his breath.
Lix laughs a little, patting Stan.
While he reassures him, I read the data.
My vision blurs for a moment, from the sudden tightness in my eyes.
I blink and blink, letting a few tears run down.
Both their hands find my heated cheeks, wiping the wetness away.
My lower lip quivers, and an involuntary sound escapes past them.
With wet lashes, I flutter them to stare up at the two men who I’ll be sharing this new life with, along with the male infant who’ll be under our care once we welcome him into the world.
Stan stares back with big, gray eyes. Lix’s worry breaks through his teary blue. I smile wide through tears of my own.
“It’s a boy,” I whisper, my voice shaky but my heart certain.
Because I get to name our child after his father, who I miss with all my heart.
Stan makes a strangled sound that’s half a laugh, half a sob, and loosens his arms to his side.
“Okay, okay, I’m not gonna squeeze you, gorgeous,” he says quickly, voice breaking. “I want to. So bad. But I’m not. I’m being so responsible right now.”
He bends anyway, resting his forehead against mine instead, breathing me in.
Lix tries to hide his reaction. He turns away, hands covering his face as his shoulders shake, blue eyes between his fingers while he chuckles in relief and cries at the same time.
When he drops his hands, his cheeks are flushed red and wet, and he leans in to kiss my temple.
I don’t know how many minutes go by, but we hold each other, mumbling about our thrilling future, while celebrating the perfect life forming between us.
***
Stan talks the entire drive back, in a rapid stream of words that appear to hop from thought to thought with enthusiasm.
“A boy,” he says, tapping the steering wheel. “A boy, Em. Do you know how wild that is? We’ll have a baby in our arms soon. He’ll be here late September, or maybe early October. That’s like, peak fall time for a baby. We get to dress him up for Halloween! So fucking cute!”
Lix hums from the back seat, his fingers on my shoulders and his thumb putting perfect pressure below my nape.
“Imagine,” Stan continues, grinning. “A Libra baby!” He snorts at himself. “Kaye says with me and Lix being late-June dads for the kid, we’re gonna bond naturally. I’m telling you, Em, this is cosmic alignment.”
I keep my expression neutral. Astrology, statistically speaking, is a mere correlation. Birth months more strongly reflect seasonal factors than personality traits, and confirmation bias does most of the heavy lifting.
Still, Stan looks happy. So I say nothing.
Instead, I lean my head back against the seat and let my palm rest over my abdomen.
The underground garage opens up for us, the car rolling smoothly down the ramp and into its assigned space in the corner with their motorcycles.
As soon as Stan opens his door, Lix is moving to get to mine.
A moment later, the three of us walk together toward the heavy doors connecting this garage to the basement, or rather what this family—no, our family fondly calls the dungeon.
Once we’re through the doors, it’s too dark to see, so naturally Stan hits the light switch.
I don’t register the change in Lix’s posture before his arms are around me, firm and immediate, his chin tucked over the crown of my head like instinct took over before thought ever had a chance.
Surprised, I blink as the basement floor lights flick on.
That’s when I see them.
Damon and Kaye stand directly ahead, his hand resting over the swell of her stomach. Beside them are Sterling and Elle, close together in that quiet way they favor, Elle’s pregnancy just beginning to show beneath her loose sweater.
Both women are round now, in different stages. Kaye’s only a few months away from, as she puts it, “popping the twins out,” and Elle is trailing a few weeks behind me.
Above them is a banner that reads “Congratulations!”
Before I can fully process it, Kaye blows a noisemaker directly into Damon’s ear. It’s loud enough from here, so I can imagine how deafening it is to him.
Damon’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t let go of her. If anything, his arm tightens reflexively around her middle.
Stan freezes for a brief moment before he yells, loud and unfiltered, “It’s a boy, y’all!”
The sound ricochets down the concrete hallway.
He crosses the space in long strides, straight into Sterling, wrapping him in a hug so sudden and forceful that Sterling grunts in shock.
“Stan, what the f—” Sterling starts.
Stan squeezes him harder, cutting him off.
Sterling coughs and punches Stan’s chest in protest. “Get the hell off me.”
“Nope,” Stan whines. “Need this right now, Silver.”
Sterling tries to shove him off, but Stan plants his feet.
“Think of all the punches I’ve taken from you,” Stan mumbles against Sterling’s shoulder. “Right in the face too. And it’s my moneymaker. What if Em or Lix found me ugly? What then, huh?”
Sterling coughs in Stan’s pouting face when he lifts up for emphasis.
Kaye laughs and tosses the noisemaker over her shoulder. Damon catches it one-handed.
She turns toward me, brown eyes sparkling, and walks over as Lix loosens his hold of me.
“Em,” Kaye says my nickname, warm and earnest, stopping in front of me. “Okay, listen.”
Her hand points down the hallway, toward the door closest to the stairs and the future elevator shaft that’s been closed off for construction.
“That room?” she says. “That’s yours.”
I blink, knitting my brows, and staring between her beaming face and the off-limits tape.
“For your lab,” she continues. “So that MedBay crap has a home, if you ever choose to keep it going, ’kay? But only if you decide to. You got that, you pretty genius?”
A subtle warmth spreads under my sternum, my breath stalling before I consciously draw it in.
“You shouldn’t have,” I whisper. “But I’m grateful.”
Kaye beams at me much more brightly, as if my acceptance was assumed.
She claps her hands together. “Upstairs is spa day. So be ready in a few hours.” She reaches back and hooks her arm through Elle’s. “Monthly tradition, my besties. No excuses.”
Elle laughs softly, letting herself be tugged along.
Kaye glances back at me over her shoulder. “You’re joining, Em,” she says. “Non-negotiable.”
Then they’re gone, footsteps fading up the stairs, their voices overlapping as Kaye prepares spa day. She asks Elle what color they should paint their nails, and Elle suggests they match or complement each other’s colors, much to Kaye’s squealing delight.
Stan finally releases Sterling, who adjusts his jacket and snorts sharply before rushing over to catch up to his wife.
Damon meets my gaze from up the stairs and nods. It’s all I need to know that Idris is safe and that Damon will discreetly relay the recent news of Idris’ child.