28. Charlie
Charlie
I 've been sitting in this waiting room for twenty minutes, watching the door like I'm expecting the president to walk through it any second. The vinyl chair squeaks every time I shift my weight, which is often, because I can't seem to find a comfortable position.
I arrived thirty minutes early for Tess's ultrasound appointment. After missing the first one because I was stuck in Bolivia, I'm not about to let anything keep me from this one.
A couple sits across from me, the woman heavily pregnant, the man's hand resting protectively on her thigh.
They look so comfortable together. Will Tess and I ever look like that?
Like we've got this whole parenting thing figured out?
Like we didn't start our relationship as an elaborate charade that somehow turned real?
I check my watch again. Eight minutes until the appointment starts, if it actually starts on time.
My phone buzzes with an email notification—Sanjay asking about the Chicago distributor contract.
I silence it and slip the phone back into my pocket.
For the next hour, Emerald City Coffee can survive without me.
"First time?"
I look up to find the pregnant woman smiling at me.
"That obvious, huh?"
"You have that deer-in-headlights look," she says, her smile widening. "My husband was the same way at our first ultrasound, weren't you, babe?"
The guy nods, looking slightly embarrassed. "I knocked over a potted plant in the lobby."
I laugh, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. "I haven't broken anything yet, but the day is young."
"It gets easier," he offers. "By the third trimester, you'll be a pro."
Third trimester. The words hit me like a physical force. In a few months, Tess will be in her third trimester. With twins. Two human beings that we created. The thought sends a fresh wave of anxiety through me.
"We're having twins," I hear myself saying.
The couple exchanges a glance, their eyes widening.
"Wow," the woman says. "Double congratulations, then."
"Double everything," her husband adds with a sympathetic grimace. "Double the diapers, double the formula..."
"Double the joy," his wife finishes, elbowing him gently.
Double the joy. I hadn't thought of it that way. My mind has been so focused on the logistics, the challenges, the terrifying responsibility of it all. But joy? Of course that’s there too.
That flutter in my chest when I think about holding our babies for the first time.
The way Tess's face softens when she rests her hand on her stomach.
The door opens, and there's Tess, in a simple green dress that lights up her hazel eyes. Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her face. My heart does that crazy skip it always does when I see her.
Her eyes find mine immediately.
"You beat me here," she says sounding surprised.
I stand, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, I, uh...I wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything." I run a hand through my hair, aware that I probably look slightly manic.
She sits down next to me and I reach for her hand.
"I'm nervous," I admit. "I have no idea what to expect."
"Join the club." She lowers her voice, turning so only I can hear. "Last time, I was so shell-shocked I have no idea what I said to the doctor."
We sit side by side, her shoulder pressed against mine, our hands still joined. The couple across from us exchanges knowing smiles.
The receptionist calls Tess's name, and we both stand. The other couple gives us encouraging smiles as we follow a nurse through the door and down a hallway lined with examination rooms.
"Change into this gown," the nurse says, handing Tess a folded piece of blue fabric. "You can leave your underwear on, but everything else off from the waist down. Dr. Thompson will be in shortly."
She leaves us alone in the small room. Tess sets her purse on a chair and gives me a rueful smile.
"Super fancy, right?" she says, holding up the paper-thin gown.
"Need me to step out?" I ask, uncertain of the protocol.
She laughs. "Charlie, you've seen me naked more times than I can count. I think we're past that point."
I’m such an idiot. "Right. Of course."
I turn slightly anyway, giving her privacy as she changes. When I hear the rustling of paper on the examination table, I turn back to find her perched on the edge, the gown covering her thighs, her bare feet dangling.
"Come here," she says, holding out her hand to me. "You look like you're about to jump out of your skin."
I move to her side, taking her outstretched hand. "I just want everything to be okay," I admit. "I've been reading about all the things that can go wrong, and?—"
"Charlie." She cuts me off, her voice gentle but firm. "Don't go there. The babies are fine. I feel good. Let's focus on that, okay?"
I take a deep breath, nodding. "Okay."
A knock at the door announces Dr. Thompson, a woman with silver-streaked hair and kind eyes behind stylish glasses. "Tess, good to see you again," she says, then turns to me. "And you must be the dad. I'm Dr. Thompson."
"Charlie Astor. Nice to meet you." I shake her hand, trying to project more confidence than I feel.
"So today we're doing an anatomy scan to check on those twins of yours," she says, turning to a computer screen. "Let's see how they're growing, shall we?"
Tess lies back on the table, lifting the gown to expose her slightly curved belly. I swallow hard, reality hitting me again. Our babies. Growing inside her. Real and undeniable.
Dr. Thompson squeezes clear gel onto Tess's stomach.
"Ready to see your babies?" Dr. Thompson asks, positioning the ultrasound wand over Tess's belly.
I take Tess's hand again, holding tight as the screen flickers to life with static gray shapes that I can’t make out at first. Then Dr. Thompson moves the wand slightly, and suddenly—there it is. A head. A spine. An arm. My throat closes up as if someone's tightened a vice around it.
These aren't just blurry images on a screen anymore. These are our children, floating in their own private oasis, completely oblivious to the fact that they've just knocked the air from my lungs with their perfect tiny existence.
"There's Baby A," Dr. Thompson says, pointing to the clearer image on the left side of the screen. “Measuring right on track for fourteen weeks."
I lean forward, transfixed by the tiny figure. I can make out a profile—a forehead, a nose, the curve of a chin. My chin? Tess's nose? It's definitely too soon to tell.
"And here," Dr. Thompson continues, moving the wand slightly, "is Baby B. Also looking perfect."
Two distinct shapes now, two separate beings. I try to form words, but they stick in my throat.
"They've grown so much since last time," Tess whispers, her voice full of wonder.
Last time. The appointment I missed. I push away the pang of regret and focus on what's happening now, on being present for this moment.
"Would you like to hear the heartbeats?" Dr. Thompson asks.
We both nod, and she adjusts something on the machine. Suddenly, the room fills with a rapid, rhythmic whooshing sound—fast and strong, like galloping horses.
"That's Baby A," she says, then moves the wand slightly. A second heartbeat joins the first, slightly out of sync. "And that's Baby B."
The sound hits me like a physical force. Two heartbeats. Two lives that Tess and I created.
"Holy shit," I whisper, then immediately flush. "Sorry, I mean?—"
Dr. Thompson laughs. "Trust me, I've heard it all." She points to the screen again. "Let's check their measurements, make sure everything's developing on schedule."
She clicks buttons, freezing images, taking measurements of heads and limbs and organs that I can barely distinguish. But Tess seems to understand, nodding as Dr. Thompson explains what she's looking at.
"They both look excellent," Dr. Thompson says finally. "Perfect growth for fourteen weeks. All organs developing normally."
Relief floods through me, a tension I hadn't even recognized draining from my shoulders.
"Oh, look at that," Dr. Thompson says, moving the wand again. "Baby B is in a perfect position right now. If you're interested, I can tell you the sex."
Tess and I exchange startled glances.
"Already?" Tess asks. "I thought it was too early."
"It can be, but sometimes when they're in just the right position like this one is, we can see quite clearly. It's up to you if you want to know."
I look at Tess, searching her face. "What do you think?"
Her eyes are bright with excitement. "I'd love to know, if it's possible. Would you?"
"Yes," I say, feeling a rush of excitement. "Absolutely."
Dr. Thompson smiles. "Let's take a look, then." She moves the wand, focusing on Baby B. "Ah, yes. See that?" She points to the screen. "Based on what I'm seeing, I'd say Baby B is a boy. And quite proud of it, from this angle."
A boy. My son. The words echo in my head. I picture a little boy with Tess's eyes and my smile, running around our feet, needing me to teach him things, to show him how to be a good man.
"And now let's see if Baby A will cooperate," Dr. Thompson continues, shifting the wand.
"Sometimes one will show us and the other won't, so no guarantees—oh!
Well, aren't we lucky today? Baby A is also in a great position.
" She studies the screen for a moment, then smiles.
"And I'm seeing clear indicators that Baby A is a girl. "
A daughter. A little girl with Tess's grace, maybe her musical talent. A daddy’s girl who will wrap me around her finger from the first moment I hold her.
"A boy and a girl," Tess breathes, her hand squeezing mine tightly. "Oh my God, Charlie."
A matched set. A son and a daughter. The perfect family in one pregnancy. My dad is absolutely going to love this.
"Of course," Dr. Thompson cautions, "ultrasound predictions aren't 100% accurate, especially this early. But based on what I'm seeing, I'm quite confident."