Chapter 30
DOING THINGS BACKWARD
FLETCHER
EIGHTEEN WEEKS PREGNANT
“Alright, are you ready to see your baby?” the tech asks, holding the wand over Lydia’s stomach.
I glance down at her with a smile. Her brows are knit together, showing her nerves, but her eyes are round and bright.
“Ready,” Lydia replies confidently.
The tech smiles and starts the ultrasound, moving the wand a bit before positioning it to find the baby’s heartbeat.
When the whooshing sound plays over the monitor, I swear my own heart stops.
It’s such a beautiful sound. I wish I could bottle this feeling of pure contentment and keep it forever.
The baby wiggles on the screen as the tech moves and shows us the baby’s brain and other parts of its body.
“And we aren’t finding out the sex today, right?” she asks.
Lydia and I shake our heads, and I reply, “No, I’m taking the envelope home with it, though.”
“Perfect.”
Lydia watches closely as the tech takes her time taking pictures of the baby for the doctor to review, but everything seems fine.
Lydia’s beauty is incredible. Her eyes are glassy, but the soft look in her expression and the smile gracing her lips are adorable.
I secretly take a photo of her, knowing I’ll want to remember this moment for so many reasons.
Once the ultrasound is done, the tech prints off several pictures for us, and I snap a few photos for my phone, even taking some of Lydia beaming at the strip of photos.
Smiling lazily, I change my background from a photo of Lydia and me from this summer to the photo of her holding the ultrasound photos.
We head upstairs to her appointment, and once the doctor does her exam and confirms the ultrasound looks great, we’re on our way home.
The envelope with the baby’s sex is heavy in my back pocket, but I have to wait until I get home from the trip before I open it.
There’s no way I can play a game with that knowledge hanging over me and not accidentally tell her when I call her tomorrow before the game.
I got something at the store and made sure to get one for a boy and one for a girl. The rest of my plan will be a surprise to her, one of many. I’m not worried about it.
I have to get over to the airport soon, so instead of taking Lydia out for more shopping, we head back to her work.
“Thanks for coming today,” Lydia says when we’re a few minutes away.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
“It means a lot to me.” She rests her hand on my thigh, and the unexpected contact sends a zing through my body.
I never want to let this feeling go.
“Do you think I should reach out to my parents?” Lydia blurts.
I rest my palm over hers, hesitating. “Do you want to reach out to them?”
She sighs heavily. “I’m not sure. After seeing the baby today, I wonder if I should at least send a photo of the ultrasound. It's their grandchild. I don't want to leave any room for them to say I shut them out when it was the other way around.”
I want to tell her to reach out, to hope that her parents have changed, but, in all honesty, I’m not sure they have. “I think that’s up to you, Lydi-bug. I have no idea what you’re going through. Pregnancy is a big journey, so I feel like it’s only natural to want the support of your mother.”
Lydia nods and says nothing for several moments.
“Hey,” I murmur, tilting her chin to look at me. “Whatever you decide to do, I’m here for you. I’ll be there no matter what.”
There’s a quick quiver of her lip before she composes her expression. “Okay. Thank you.”
I run my thumb over her cheekbone and give her an affirmative nod when she takes a deep breath and pulls away from me, running her hands over her thighs.
“Can I ask you something?” Lydia questions, her shoulders tense.
I nod warily. “Anything.”
“What are we doing here? Are we officially dating?” Her voice is timid, and I want to eliminate the hesitation with a single word.
“Yes. We’re together. There is no doubt in my mind that I want this to be long-term, Lydia.” I cup her cheek, my large palm practically engulfing her face, but I need this contact with her.
She melts into my touch, and I smooth my thumb back and forth across her skin.
“I thought so, but I wanted to make sure. Can I ask one more thing?”
“Absolutely.” I press a kiss to the tip of her nose.
Perhaps we’re doing things backward. I mean, we haven’t even kissed on the lips yet, but I know where I want this relationship to go, and I’m confident we’ll get there.
“I know with your job, it’s hard sometimes to keep things private, but can we try to keep our personal lives as private as we can? We don’t need to announce to anyone that we’re dating or having a baby. I don’t want people to be in our business any more than necessary.”
Her request is so easy to say yes to, even though I want to tell the world she’s mine. I want to have her on my arm, boasting to everyone that she belongs to me, but I want her to be comfortable, and if that means not being in the spotlight the way my life is, I’m more than happy to oblige.
“Yes. Whatever you need, Lydi-bug.”
“Thank you,” she breathes, her shoulders relaxing. “I mean, we’ll still go to your games and everything, but social media is just such a messy place. I don’t want to fuel any drama.”
“I get it, and I agree.” The press can be invasive, and I’ll do my best to protect Lydia and our baby from it. I’m only on social media the bare minimum, and the only people I want to know about our relationship and life together already know, so I have no problem with this.
I get out of the car before she can and open the door for her, helping her out. Before she can step away, I’m pulling her into a tight hug.
“I’m going to miss you,” I whisper in her ear.
“Same. But it’s only two days,” Lydia says into my neck. “Two days is nothing.”
It feels different. Leaving is so much harder now.
“Two days. Then it’s Christmas. Just us.”
“Just us.”
We’ve been doing Christmas Day on our own for years now. Since my schedule is all over the place, it’s hard for my family to come up or for me to go down there.
The day after Christmas, we’ll get together with Calvin and Grace’s family for a little Christmas brunch, but the day of is our thing.
We exchange presents and stay in our pajamas all day watching Christmas movies and eating our weight in Christmas cookies.
Lydia will usually crochet me a hat or some mittens as one of my presents, but she makes them that day.
Lydia’s parents have never come to visit, and whenever she asked about celebrating the holiday together, they always said they had other plans or conveniently planned a trip on Christmas.
It’s our little tradition, and officially our last year as just the two of us. Next year, there will be a baby to love on. I can’t wait.
“Text me when you land,” Lydia says as she pulls free from my embrace.
“Always.” I kiss her cheek, feeling grateful that in just nine days, I’ll be able to kiss her for real.