Chapter 27
“Have you ever seen an ultrasound before?”
They were alone in the exam room, and Poppy’s voice vibrated with a strange combination of anticipation and nerves. She had been speaking non-stop the entire drive to the hospital. She hadn’t stopped during the ride up the elevator or since they’d entered the room twenty minutes earlier.
“I have.” His eyes fixed on the black monitor and the coiled cable that would soon reveal the shape of their future. “Once.”
AJ stood beside Poppy, holding her hand, doing everything he could to exude calm energy that matched, or even better, exceeded her manic vibe.
He knew nerves played a huge part in her state, but also contributing was the fact that she needed to have a full bladder for the ultrasound so that they could get a clearer picture.
In his opinion, she’d overdone it on the assignment.
She’d woken up and not used the restroom, then had a ginger tea for nausea and eight ounces of carrot juice, and she was halfway through her second forty-ounce Stanley mug filled with lemon water.
AJ had to pee just through osmosis, and he’d only had one cup of coffee.
“You have?” The paper on the exam table crinkled beneath her as she shifted, legs dangling above the linoleum. Instead of her heels tapping together like Dorothy, she was tapping the balls of her feet, and it wasn’t three times, AJ had counted 485 times. “When?”
“Four years ago.”
Poppy twisted her head to look at him and dropped his hand. “For what?”
“Kidney stones.”
“You had kidney stones?” Her voice went up an octave, a mixture of horror and fascination. “I’ve heard it’s like medieval torture.”
That wasn’t a bad way to describe it.
“Did it hurt?” she asked.
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, sparing her the details of the way the pain had started as a dull ache while he was driving home from work.
How he went to bed and woke up with a fever and could barely make it to the bathroom.
How he had blood in his urine. How he had to call an ambulance because he was not able to drive himself to the hospital.
How the morphine they gave him had made his thoughts melt into hot syrup.
“Did Niko know?”
“I assume my mom or sister told him.” AJ hadn’t shared the information with his twin, but in his family, everyone knew everything.
“No, I mean, did he feel it? Do you guys have that thing, that psychic telepathy twin thing, like he’s a living voodoo doll and if he stubs his toe, you feel it?”
AJ smiled, which for him meant the left corner of his mouth ticked up. “No.”
Poppy’s lips were pursed together as she scrunched her nose in the most adorable way, and AJ had to fight the urge to lean down and kiss her. That impulse had been occurring more and more frequently lately. “Are you sure?”
“Am I sure Niko didn’t feel the searing pain of my kidney stones when he was in the Bahamas with a Sport’s Illustrated model? Yes. I’m sure.”
“Do you have any psychic-twin abilities?”
AJ had never told anyone that they could hear each other at a low volume, frankly because it was ridiculous. But he didn’t want to lie to her, and he figured it would distract her, so... “One.”
Poppy’s eyes lit up like she’d just won the lottery. “You do? What?”
“I’ve never told anyone.”
That piece of information proved to incite the reaction he’d hoped for and compounded her excitement tenfold. “Seriously?”
AJ took a breath, knowing the words that were about to come out of his mouth sounded ridiculous. “We can speak at a volume that is nearly imperceptible to the human ear and hear each other clearly and have full conversations.”
The excitement in her expression deflated immediately. “You mean whisper?”
“No, it’s quieter than that. It’s negative decibels.”
“So lip reading?”
“I can lip read, but no, that’s not what this is. We can be back-to-back and do it.”
“Oh, cool.” The excitement returned.
“And Niko had us do the TikTok trend where we stood with a barrier wall between us and were asked to do the same things—turn around, raise one arm, do a dance move, make a face, hold up a number on our fingers—things like that, and we did the same thing every single time. I think we ended up doing about a thousand different variations and never missed.”
“That’s amazing. Is it on TikTok?”
AJ was seriously regretting telling her, he’d just been trying to distract her. “Yes.”
“I’m gonna look it up.”
Great. He honestly could not believe he’d just told her about those TikToks.
The door opened, and a petite woman with thick, glossy hair and an expressive face poked her head inside. “Hey, Poppy, oh!” The second syllable came out as a delighted little yip when she spotted AJ. “Oh hello, Hallway Ho—”
“AJ, this is Dr. Steph Roemer.” Poppy quickly made introductions. “Steph, this is AJ.”
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Roemer.”
“Please, call me Steph. And I’m sorry about the Hallway…thing… Poppy and I have been friends for almost a decade, and I forget to be professional when she’s around.”
“I’m a bad influence.” Poppy grinned up at AJ. “Steph saw you pacing the hallway the night we found out.”
“I figured.” It didn’t take a genius to puzzle out the nickname’s origin.
“The nurses on the floor nicknamed you Hallway Hottie,” Poppy explained.
AJ wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that information.
“Again, I apologize,” Dr. Roemer said sincerely.
“I’ve been called worse.”
Thankfully, that was the end of the appointment detour spotlight on him, and Dr. Roemer began by asking Poppy routine questions. How are you feeling? Any morning sickness? Nausea, dizziness, bleeding? Any changes in appetite or mood?
AJ was impressed at how self-aware Poppy was.
She’d kept a detailed mental log of her physical symptoms and spoke about being defensive, irritable, and overwhelmed.
She said she felt like she was on an emotional roller coaster that was going up and down, doing loop-di-loops, and all she could do was hold on and try not to fall out.
She told her friend that there were days she heard herself speaking and didn’t recognize herself.
She said she had treated some people very unfairly when they’d just been trying to help.
AJ was fairly certain he was the “people” she was referring to.
Dr. Roemer explained that was totally normal. She was growing a human life, and that was not an easy job for a person’s hormones, nervous system, mental, physical, or emotional health. She told her that she should show herself the same grace and patience she would show a loved one or a friend.
AJ endorsed that message. He couldn’t agree more.
“Okay, so are there any issues, questions, or concerns?” Dr. Roemer asked as she stood from the rolling stool.
“You mean besides the fifty that I’ve texted you over the past four weeks?” Poppy teased, making light of the fact that she’d been texting Steph at least once a day every day for the past month.
It was so frequent, AJ was scared her friend might block her, but thankfully she seemed to be a good sport.
“Yes, I mean besides the fifty texts.”
Poppy took a deep breath and reached for AJ’s hand again. “No.”
Dr. Roemer smiled, then went to the counter to prepare the ultrasound wand.
Poppy laid back on the table. She looked suddenly younger and smaller, her confidence evaporating as the moment closed in around her.
AJ wanted so badly to wrap her up in his arms and promise her that nothing would ever hurt her, but unlike the house, where he knew the variables, Poppy’s life had too many unknown variables he had zero control over.
“You ready?” Dr. Roemer’s tone was gentle.
Poppy’s jaw tightened, but she nodded.
AJ watched as Steph applied the cold gel to Poppy’s stomach, then pressed the wand against the skin.
The room fell quiet except for the faint hum of the machine.
The monitor flickered to life, and for several seconds, all AJ saw was a field of grey static.
Then a shape resolved, a tadpole silhouette, a flickering white line.
“That’s the baby,” Dr. Roemer said quietly, her voice gone reverent. “Right on track for development. See that?” She pointed at a pulsing blur, “That’s the heart. You want to hear it?”
Poppy made a noise, a cross between a gasp and a whimper.
Dr. Roemer pressed a key, and the room filled with a sound AJ was not prepared for, a furious, galloping rhythm, like a hummingbird trapped in a jar.
He felt Poppy’s hand clamp down even tighter on his, so tight he thought she might break a bone.
AJ stared at the monitor, trying to match the abstract shapes to the idea of a human life.
A part of him wanted to ask what it meant, if the heart rate was normal, and if the strange ripples on the screen were something to be worried about.
But another part—the part that would rather die than do anything to cause Poppy even a second of pain—kept his mouth shut.
His eyes dropped to Poppy. Tears streamed down her face, but she was smiling, eyes fixed on the screen.
She looked radiant and terrified and, for the first time since she’d told him about the baby, like she actually believed this was all real.
His thumb brushed over her wrist, and he felt her heart rate pulsing wildly.
He wondered if this was what love actually was, not the chest-thumping, limb-tingling adrenaline of romance and desire, but the terrifying quiet certainty of responsibility.
Of witnessing a miracle and knowing you could not, ever, run from it.
That you would be anything, do anything, sacrifice anything, for that heartbeat.
That nothing in your life would ever be about you, because that heartbeat, those heartbeats, were the only thing that mattered.