Chapter 3
The ultrasound tech was running behind, so it was actually more like an hour and a half before I was in the tiny room, climbing onto a bed covered in glorified paper towels, while a tech in a mask fiddled with the ultrasound machine.
“When was the date of your last period?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. A year ago? I’ve consistently used an implant since I turned sixteen, and I stopped getting regular periods, like, the first year?”
The tech nodded. “Okay. Well, this wouldn’t be the first contraception-fail baby I’ve seen, and I can tell you, it won’t be the last.” She gave me a look that was probably meant to be reassuring, but was ruined by her next words. “We’ll see what we can with this wand, but if it’s too early, we might have to try a trans-vaginal ultrasound.”
“Is that a train that goes across Virginia?” I joked, because I tended to make jokes when uncomfortable, and the idea of this woman poking any kind of instrument up my hoo-haa definitely made me uncomfortable.
She raised an eyebrow and talked me through the next steps like I was a child. “I’m moving up your shirt… I’m squirting a lubricant on your stomach… The wand will be cold… I’m searching for your uterus…”
It was all going fine until her eyebrows rose two inches toward her hairline, and she let out a soft little, “Oh,” that echoed around the room like a gong.
It was a single syllable. Two letters. It shouldn’t have been as terrifying as it was. But that “Oh” had my heart hammering in my chest. “What?”
She gave me a tight smile, or at least, that’s what I thought she was doing behind her mask. Unfortunately, a smile that didn’t reach your eyes may as well not exist if your mouth was hidden. “I just want to get my colleague to check an anomaly. One moment.”
Then she disappeared, and I stared at the grainy screen grab of the Rorschach painting she’d been reading. I tried to see what she was worried about, but it made no sense to me at all.
When she returned, she brought along an older technician, whose smile was far more reassuring. This tech had curling gray hair and a quietly confident demeanor that bled through the room.
“How are you doing, sweets?” When she smiled, she meant it, and a part of me relaxed a little.
Flicking her glasses down her small, stubby nose, she picked up the magic wand thing and dug it into my stomach. Her fingers flew across the machine, taking screen grabs every now and then, before her eyebrows rose too.
“Ah, I see.” She didn’t seem as worried as the other tech, which told me that my baby probably didn’t have two heads or an extra leg, or something growing where it shouldn’t. She moved the wand again into another position, humming to herself. Another screen grab. And another.
Looking at my notes, she hummed again. “I’ll send these through to your doctor, but everything looks fine. I’d say you’re about thirteen weeks along.” She gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher. “No need to panic at all.” She moved the wand until a familiar shape came into view. The profile of a face. “This is Baby A.”
“Baby A?” I breathed, but I was transfixed. This little gray blob had a profile. Sure, it looked more like a shadow puppet of a baby than something living and breathing, but still, there it was, its little heart fluttering on the ultrasound.
She moved the wand, but then the profile was back again. “And Baby B.”
“Baby B?” I squeaked, and as she moved the wand again, my hands started to shake.
“This one is a little harder to see, but there’s definitely a Baby C back here too.”
I was going to pass out. I was going to puke. Probably both. “No, no, no, no…”
The kind nurse rested a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay; it’ll be fine. They are fraternal, which means they all have their own amniotic sacs, and that definitely lessens the risks for both you and the babies. Your OB-GYN will be able to give you more information, and I suggest you find one immediately, if you don’t already have one.”
I was shaking. I could hear her talking, but it felt like bees were buzzing around my head. She wiped the jello stuff off my stomach and printed me out pictures, before leading me from the room, telling me firmly to book an appointment with an OB-GYN as soon as possible.
I collected another bill from the reception desk, and they sent me on my way, like my life wasn’t in fucking shambles.
I looked down at my stomach, poking it gently. I felt like an idiot. How could I have not known? It was harder than it should be, but I mean, I’d been binge eating Rossi’s beef rolls like a lunatic because I’d been craving them so much.
Guess I knew why now.
Stuffing the bills into my backpack, I walked to the bus stop. I definitely couldn’t afford cabs anymore. Or Rossi’s beef rolls. Or anything. I grabbed the next bus and sat by myself, staring out the window as it wound its way across town.
How was I supposed to take care of three babies by myself? There’s no way…
I swallowed down the emotions that seemed to still be riding way too close to the surface. The world was alight with golden slashes of light, and right now, possible brain damage was the least of my worries.
I kept my head down until I made it back home, so close to being able to break down properly. I walked up my steps, sneaking through the door so I didn’t run into Mrs. Byrne.
Fuck. I’d have to move. I couldn’t have three babies in a three-story walk-up. What if I tripped and dropped one down the stairs?
I was on the second-story landing when I ran into Nate. “Sorry,” I mumbled at the ground, dodging around him.
His hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist. I looked down at his long fingers on my skin. This was the first time in five years he’d ever touched me. He usually went out of his way to not even brush shoulders with me.
“Are you okay?”
I looked up into his gruff face, his short beard messy, and his wild, burnished red-brown hair piled on top of his head in a messy top-knot. He should’ve looked like a hipster, but I’d dare anyone to call him that to his face.
“Wren?” he prompted.
Don’t you do it, Wren. Don’t you fucking do it.
My body was now possessed, because despite the fact I was warning myself repeatedly, when I looked up into those sky-blue eyes, I burst into tears. I sobbed like my world was ending, slumping down onto that squeaky damn step.
I wouldn’t have to worry about the step waking him up soon—it would be the screaming babies. Babies who’d quickly realize fate had handed them the worst beginning ever by giving them an inexperienced single mother who couldn’t even tell them who their father was, because she didn’t remember.
Nate took two steps into my space, his face furious. “Are you injured? Who hurt you?” His hands gripped my shoulders gently, and it felt nice. I really was losing my mind.
I just shook my head, and he bundled me up into his arms and marched me into his apartment. I’d never been in here before, and while the layout was the same as mine, the place couldn’t have been more different. Firstly, there were a lot of plants. They made the whole place appear green, with soft tapestries lining the walls, giving it a cozy feel.
Well, except for the display of medieval weapons that hung on his wall, including a double-sided ax and a sword so long, it would take a giant to wield it.
He sat me on the couch and moved across to his small kitchen, pouring me a dram of whiskey. Coming back to squat in front of me, he pushed it beneath my nose. The smell made my stomach curl.
“I can’t.”
“It’ll calm your nerves,” he cajoled softly. It was the softest voice I’d ever heard him use.
Shaking my head, I didn’t even attempt to stop the fall of tears anymore. “No, I can’t, because I’m pregnant.”
Nate looked like I’d slapped him as he rocked back on his heels, his face contorted into a mask of surprise. “Pregnant?”
“With triplets,” I shrieked, hysteria setting in. “That means fucking three, Nate.”
Nate lifted the dram of whiskey to his own lips and threw it back, before walking back over and pouring himself another one. He cleared his throat, moving to sit down on the intricate stone coffee table across from me. He was so huge that it groaned ominously, and I was a little worried it might fall right through the floor and onto Mrs. Byrne’s head.
“Who’s the father?” he asked, looking as confused as I felt.
“That’s just it. I don’t know. I swear, I haven’t had…” I snapped my mouth shut. Was I really about to tell the hottest guy I knew that I hadn’t gotten laid in twelve months? At this point, if I died of mortification, it would probably be a blessing. I cleared my throat and continued. “I haven’t had sex for a really long time. But I don’t remember being unsafe. And I have a damn contraceptive implant.”
“No boyfriend since that jacked-up douche from across town?” he asked.
My ex. Nate had never liked him. Thomas hadn’t liked Nate much either.
“I went out to a club a couple of months ago for Camila’s going-away party, but I didn’t drink that much!” I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince, Nate or myself. “It’s a little hazy, but I wasn’t black-out drunk, I swear. But something must have happened…” There was nothing else. No other explanation. I just buried my head in my hands and cried some more.
Nate moved to sit beside me, hesitantly wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”
“Everyone keeps saying that, but I can’t see how!” I shook as I curled my legs up against my chest. Well, I tried to, but couldn’t, because my stomach was in the way. “I thought I was just getting fat!”
“Yeah, me too.”
I looked up at him, horrified.
“In a good way, Wren. I thought you were getting curvy. It suits you.” His cheeks flushed, which was kind of adorable. He looked down at my stomach. “Three, you say?”
Yeah, nice save, buddy.
I nodded, and he patted my back. “A real blessing.”
This time, I snorted rudely at his words. I didn’t feel blessed. I felt cursed. My whole life had been cursed.
“I need to get drunk, but I can’t,” I muttered, flopping back and sinking into Nate’s warmth, even though I’d regret it later when I relived this horrifying encounter over and over. “I’m going to have to move, because how will I take babies up and down the stairs? Plus, Mrs. B. doesn’t want to spend her remaining years listening to babies screaming their lungs out. But I can’t afford anywhere else.
“My boss will fire me, because I probably won’t be able to work for the last trimester, since triplet pregnancies are dangerous. I wouldn’t be able to lean out the drive-thru window to hand people coffee anyway. I won’t be able to afford the doctor’s bills. Or the hospital bills. I’ll be paying the babies off until they’re thirty. Not that they’ll be speaking to me by thirty, because I’ll have had to raise them all under a bridge in our three-room cardboard box, since I won’t be able to afford to keep a roof over their heads?—”
Nate placed his hand over my mouth to stop the absolute vomit of words from tumbling out. Was it weird his hand kind of tasted nice? Like vanilla or something.
“Wren, no one is kicking you out of here. Mrs. Byrne is going to be over the moon. She couldn’t have children herself.” I hadn’t known that. “You can move into this apartment, and I’ll move to the top level. There’ll still be stairs, but not as many.”
I was going to cry again, but I swallowed the tears down. “That’s really nice of you, but you’re what, six hundred feet tall? You aren’t going to fit in the top-level apartment.” The third-floor apartment had lower ceilings to account for the eaves. It didn’t bother me, but I was short as hell. Nate was not. He’d be insanely uncomfortable up there; I couldn’t do that to him.
A low grumble in his chest made me look up at him, suddenly acutely aware that I was snot-balling all over a guy I barely knew. He shook his head at me. “Take the help, woman. If I didn’t want to help, I wouldn’t offer. You’re going to need it, and you aren’t in the position to turn it down out of stubborn pride.”
I swallowed hard. He was right. So fucking right. “Okay,” I agreed meekly.
We sat in silence, and I stared at the painting on the wall opposite his couch. He didn’t even have a TV. Just that massive painting. It had a whole herd of horses running over green grass, their manes spread out behind them in the breeze. Below them was what appeared to be a farmhouse made of stone. It was a beautiful painting. I could see why he liked it.
“What am I going to do?” I whispered the words, but Nate heard anyway.
His huge hand stroked circles over my shoulders. “Doctor’s appointments, I imagine. A lot of them.”
I gave a mirthless laugh. “I hope they let me pay the bill with sexual favors, because I have no money.” I sighed heavily, closing my eyes against reality for just a second. “I’m so fucked.”
He may have replied, but exhaustion dragged me down into oblivion.