Chapter 14 #2
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
“Weeks. He restricts unnecessary visits because he doesn’t want me in that place any more than I have to be.”
“I agree. When’s the last time you talked to him?”
“Two nights ago.”
“Wait up. I’m sure he’ll call again.”
“He doesn’t like that either.”
“Like what?”
“Me waiting on him. Waiting by the phone. Waiting up at night. Waiting for visits. Waiting at all.”
“I’m liking this man a little more with each detail.”
“It drives me insane. Not knowing the next time I’ll hear his voice. Waiting weeks at a time to see his face.”
“Yearning–”
“Hm?”
“You’re yearning, Range. And, while this might not be what you care to hear, it’s strengthening your connection.
Naturally. Back in time, some men were gone for months, out working in the mines or the fields or in another city at a factory.
Some even went away to find better for the family they wanted to build.
“Wives and girlfriends stayed behind, writing letters and hoping they’d call if they had the opportunity.
It made some connections crumble. Others, it made them unbreakable.
Impenetrable. Sturdy. Tough,” she paused, “This is your foundation, Range. If your connection survives this, it can survive almost anything.”
“He’s kind, Roaman. And, thoughtful. He’s considerate.
He’s protective. He’s smart. He’s loving.
He has a niece. She has him wrapped around her finger.
It is his will to protect her that landed him in prison.
And while I want to hate the fact that he’s there, I can’t.
I saw her little face and felt her arms around me.
She’s precious. If he had the chance, I’d encourage him to do what he’d done all over again.
This time, a little smarter. A little less emotional. And quicker.”
“Was her father hurting her?”
“No. He was selling images of her young body to sick predators so he could pay off gambling debts he found himself in.”
“He’s not a mindless criminal, Range. He’s doing for his niece what Chem would do for us in the blink of an eye. There’s no need to be afraid or second-guess your decision to pursue this relationship. He’ll be home. I know you will make certain of it.”
“I will, because it’s my job to. I clean messes, and he’s made a big one.”
“Knock. Knock.”
The impressionable, infectious-spirited doctor came into the room.
“Good morning, Ms. Childers. I am Dr. Grant. It’s nice to meet you.”
I sat up, straightening my posture and stiffening my spine.
“Good morning. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
“My staff tells me you’re here with concerns of pregnancy. You had your last period a while ago it seems.”
“About seven weeks ago.”
“Okay. Okay. Well, I have news for you, Ms. Childers. We tested your urine, and I can definitely say you’re pregnant. If you’re having doubts and want us to perform a blood te–”
“That won’t be necessary,” Roaman inserted.
I’d gone numb. No words would form. But thoughts were present. Many thoughts. However, they were all useless.
“Okay. So, if you’d like to move forward with this appointment, we can start by taking a look at the baby and getting some measurements.
If not, then we can postpone your first prenatal visit.
I understand this can be a lot to take in, so let me know what you’re thinking and what you’re most comfortable with. ”
“We’d like to move forward with this appointment,” Roaman clarified.
I was in no condition to choose.
“Great. Let’s get started. I’ll have more information about the baby in just a minute.”
Streaks of wetness fell from my face onto the paper beneath me. I lifted my shirt and tucked it underneath my bra.
So many emotions.
So many feelings.
So many questions.
So many things.
So many firsts.
So many more days until he was in front of the judge demanding his freedom again.
“I’m going to place this in your pants to keep them clean.”
The sound of rattling paper followed the sound of fingers stretching gloves. Chilly gloved fingers pushed thick paper into my pants and folded it over the top.
“I’m going to place another right underneath your shirt to keep it from getting messy as well.”
She repeated the same steps to protect the white button-down that was cropped, exposing half of my belly.
I’d paired it with wide-leg denim and pointed-toe heels.
The look was complete with the heavy presence of jewelry and a flawless beat.
My hair was up in a loose ponytail. Curled strands hung in the front, on each side of my face.
“You don’t have to worry. This is warm.”
As promised, a warm gel caressed the skin of my belly. The twirling of the wand followed. The lights lowered.
Swoooooosh.
Swooooosh.
Swoooooooosh.
The sonography device filled the silence.
Swoooooosh.
Swooooosh.
Clicking began as Dr. Grant continued probing my stomach. I sniffled, hoping the tears would subside.
Pull yourself together.
I inhaled deeply, pulling in a healthy amount of oxygen before releasing it.
“And, there is ba–” Dr. Grant paused.
Swoooooosh.
Swooooosh.
“Is everything okay?” Roaman questioned, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“Uh– yes. Everything looks good.”
The galloping sound of a hundred horses was heartening.
“That sound, Ms. Childers, is the sound of not one heartbeat, but two,” she explained.
My heart melted against my spine. I placed a hand over my mouth. Pulling myself together was pointless.
Swoooooosh.
Swooooosh.
“Two?” I tried drying the tears that fell down my face with my other hand.
“Yes. Two. You’re having twins,” she confirmed.
Roaman’s hair brushed against my forehead as she leaned in. She kissed me while pulling my face closer.
“You’ve got this, baby,” she claimed. “We’ve got this. Okay?”
I smeared my tears while nodding my head. “Okay.”
Swoooooosh.
Swooooosh.
“According to your last period and your date of conception, you’re due January 25th. However, twin cases vary. Some are induced at thirty-six weeks. Others, thirty-eight. A full forty weeks is possible if there’s no discomfort and the babies are not showing signs of distress.”
The clicking continued.
So did the sound of the sonography technology.
My heart and mind raced simultaneously. I felt so many things. Strangely, loneliness wasn’t one of those. I was drowning in love.
From my sisters.
And, from the little ones growing in my belly.
“Alright, Ms. Childers. Everything looks good. You can stop at the front on your way out. Your images will be waiting. You can schedule your next appointment while you retrieve your images. I’m wishing you a healthy and pleasurable pregnancy experience.
I’ll see you soon. Please call us if you have any concerns. ”
Dr. Grant cleaned the gel from my stomach and removed the oversized napkins she’d used to protect my clothes.
“Thank you.”
She handed me paper towels to clean. I rubbed them across my belly, removing any traces of the ultrasound gel.
“You’re welcome. Have a great day.”
Silence washed over the room after her exit. Without a word, I adjusted my clothes. When I stood, Roaman was waiting.
Hand extended.
Willing. Waiting. Ready to support me in any way she could.
She opened the door. We both filed out. Our bodies stilled at the receptionist desk.
“Sonograph images for Range Childers, please,” Roaman demanded.
“Yes. Right here. Would you like to schedule your next appointment while you’re here?”
I shook my head. Roaman’s eyes studied me, quietly, trying to gauge my mental location.
“Not today. We’ll reach out when we’re ready,” she explained, taking the images from the receptionist.
“Understand. You two have a nice day,” she responded, picking up the ringing phone.
We began toward the door. Roaman pushed it open. As I prepared to step out, I was advised otherwise.
“Ms. Childers–” the receptionist called out, “There’s a call.”
My brows furrowed. Confusion was plentiful.
“For you,” she informed me, extending the corded phone.
Sighing, I turned around, heading toward the desk. I reached over the counter, gripping the phone. I placed it against my ear. Words were still a complicated task.
Emotions swelled in my chest. Not even the silence on the line could disguise the caller. I knew him well. I knew his energy. I knew his heart.
Josiah, my love. I breathed out.