15. August 1st
Angie
“Raf, wake up,” I squeal, barging into his bedroom as the sun barely illuminates the space. “It’s here!”
“Huh?” he says semi-unconsciously.
“My bump is here,” I exclaim, shoving my legs against the side of his bed and pushing my stomach out even more so he can get the full effect as I lift my pajama top up. Snatching one of his hands, I place it on my belly. “See! It’s definitely bigger. And I haven”t eaten anything yet, so it’s not a food baby—it’s a real baby!” I may have woken up stupid-horny, but when I saw my full body reflection in the mirror this morning, I forgot all about the ache.
I’m twenty weeks along and I’ve been growing frustrated at the lack of evidence. According to all the sites, most pregnant people show starting around sixteen weeks. But not me! I want strangers to see my belly and ask me when I’m due just so I can act shocked and tell them, “I’m not pregnant.”
There’s a sick satisfaction I would get from it.
Yes, something is wrong with me.
“That’s great, Ang,” Rafael smiles as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up to get a better hold on me. “Oh yeah. It’s definitely here. Just in time for today.”
Biting my lower lip and unable to contain my excitement, I shimmy back and forth, widening my stance, then thrust my hips, grunting like an animal. Rafael falls back against his headboard, holding his sides as he laughs that rich baritone that makes everything inside me better. I love his laugh, and I don’t care if it’s with me or at me; I just want to hear him be happy and know that I made that happen.
When his alarm goes off, I tap his screen to stop it. “Okay, let’s get ready,” I cheer. “I’ll make breakfast today,” I say, already moving back to his bedroom door. “T-minus sixty minutes before we have to leave for the ultrasound!”
As I leave his space, his chuckle lingers inside me as I head to the kitchen with a pep in my step.
Encouraged by my new visible baby bump, I threw on a form-fitting daffodil maternity dress before heading to my new obstetrician’s office with Rafael. Apparently my old OB/GYN retired last month, so I’m getting assigned a new doctor today in addition to my twenty-week ultrasound.
Looking dapper in his light grayish-blue slacks and tucked-in crisp white shirt, Raf signs me in at the front desk as I hand over my insurance info to the receptionist. His big wristwatch glints under the fluorescent lights, momentarily mesmerizing me. We’re both headed to work after this, but I can’t help my wandering mind from thinking about playing hooky and strolling about the city looking as good as we do right now. Even though we have different clothes and different bodies, we somehow feel like a matching set.
Mentally slapping myself, I refrain from any more ridiculous couple imagery.
Stop leaning in.
“Angela?” A woman’s voice calls my name as she opens the door that heads back to the patient rooms.
“Right here,” I say as Raf stands with me, placing a hand at my back as we walk with her.
“You’re here for your twenty-week ultrasound, correct?”
“Yes,” I smile as she leads us into a dark room with low lighting and a few monitors on the wall.
“And are you the father?” she asks Raf.
“I am,” he grins.
“Perfect. Have a seat and lay back, mom. I’ll give you this blanket to cover up your legs if you’d like. Will you please lift your dress so I can access your belly?”
A prick of nervousness zaps through me as I lay down. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s just the excitement of it all culminating as little tingles inside my body.
The ultrasound tech taps away at her computer as Rafael helps me get situated. Taking his own seat, he scooches the chair as close as he can to me and holds my hand with both of his. When I look at him, he brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my fingers with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.
It’s a genuine but nervous smile and a matching one to mine.
The tech squirts the cool jelly on my beautiful belly and begins telling me how she’s going to take a lot of measurements first, then review everything with me in a few minutes.
I don’t like this part at all. Because even though I am watching exactly what she’s doing on the screen in front of me, I have no idea what she’s seeing. But when Rafael squeezes my hand, he centers me back to him.
“I was thinking Lance for a boy,” he says quietly, causing me to jerk my attention fully to him.
“Absolutely not,” I frown. “Have you forgotten about that terrible date I went on with that douche-canoe? He literally lived on a boat.”
“Oh yeah,” he smirks. I think he does remember. “What about Parsley for a girl? We could spell it P-A-R-S-L-E-I-G-H.”
My giggle turns into a low chuckle that turns in a belly laugh that I”m trying to keep quiet. Wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes, I muster out, “Yes, of course. Love it.”
“Or maybe for a gender-neutral name, we could go with Zillow,” he says, like it’s the best idea he’s ever had.
Full-on snorting and struggling to breathe, I finally get out, “Like the website? Why not go even further with Apartments.com?”
He takes my hand and wipes his own laughter from his eyes. “They could have…two middle names,” he wheezes. “Dot and Com.”
“Alright, guys,” the ultrasound tech gently interrupts our giggle fit. “Excellent names. You’re going to have a hard time choosing amongst them, I can tell. Are you ready?”
“Yes. Please,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “But we don’t want to know the sex.”
“No problem,” she smiles, modifying something on her screen at the request. “Have you felt any kicks yet?”
I groan. “No.”
“That’s okay, and totally normal at this point either way. The good news is they are lively. Can you see the hearts beating? See that movement right there? And there?” My breath catches in my chest watching our baby squirm about. There’s a lot of movement all over the image. “Oh my, they are hard to catch,” the tech smiles, chasing the baby with the ultrasound wand.
When I peek at Raf, he’s tearing up but it’s not from residual laughter. Choking back a little sob, he watches me like I’m the most incredible thing he’s ever seen. He leans over to plant a lingering kiss to my forehead and murmurs, “Look at what you’re doing, Angel. ?Dios mío!Gracias.”
I’m grateful I’m already crying a little because him thanking me for carrying this baby pulls at my heartstrings harder than I’ve ever experienced. This man is one of the most special people in my life and he’s given me this unexpected gift—the most amazing, life-changing gift.
“Everything looks really good, and all their measurements are right where they should be,” the tech says, tapping her keyboard several more times. “The good news is both heart beats are strong. And your blood pressure is right where it should be too.”
Wiped away is every previous thought and emotion I was holding. “Excuse me, what?”
“Yeah,” she smiles. “Your blood pressure is one-ten over sixty-eight and the babies each have a heart rate of a hundred and fifty beats per minute.”
“Each?!” I screech and Rafael shoots out of his chair.
“Yeah,” the ultrasound tech drawls, furrowing her brow. “You’re having twins. You didn’t know that?”
“No!” I cry.
Her eyes widen. “They didn’t catch that at your twelve-week ultrasound?”
“I just found out I was pregnant at twelve weeks!” My heart is pounding like a jackhammer and my whole body is paralyzed. I can sense Rafael pacing next to me in the small dimly-lit room.
This can’t be right. This is a mistake. What is with all these medical professionals giving me shocking information recently? Are they conspiring against me? Is this all some elaborate prank? I still think they’ve all mixed up the charts. There’s no way. You know, I’m not entirely sure I’m actually pregnant now that I think about it.
The tech looks at a folder on her station. “Looks like you had Dr. Clarkston,” she sighs, making me no less at ease. “She just retired. I’m wondering if this slipped through the cracks.”
“Ya think?” Raf huffs his indignation.
“Well, we’re here now,” she soothes, clearly trying to calm us down. “And you are carrying two babies. You’re still measuring at twenty weeks along, and everything looks just as it should be.” My eyes bug out. “With twins,” she adds quickly.
“We’re having two babies,” Rafael whispers to himself with his hands on his hips, unblinking.
The technician finishes up by showing us each image and measurement, printing out the pictures for us to take, then leaves us in the sterile room to collect ourselves privately. When the door gently closes, I sit up, adjusting the skirt of my dress into place and stare at the man before me.
“I’m dreaming, right?” I ask. “Did what I think happened, just happen?”
Rafael must be further along in the acceptance process because he crouches before me and wraps his arms around my middle, pressing his face into my belly. “Yes. We have two babies, Angel. You’re carrying twins.”
Letting out some version of a sigh or whisper, I try to say the word. “Two,” but I’m speechless and still too dazed to move any more than I already have.
Rafael then looks up, and noticing my blank expression, he stands to his full six-four height. He pries my legs apart and stands between them, then takes my hands and has me wrap them around his middle. Holding my head tight to him, his stomach rises and falls in a slow cadence, and I close my eyes, inhaling his cologne.
Bergamot.
Lemon.
Cedarwood.
Between his inviting scent and the warmth of his body, my focus shifts back to reality, and I smile. “We’re having twins.”
Rafael
Angie and I took the rest of the morning off to collect ourselves before going into work, but not before she called an emergency lunch for us and Cora where all three of us proceeded to scream like banshees. Thankfully we had grabbed some takeout sandwiches and were sitting at a park for this, so we only disturbed a few nearby walkers.
Every second since finding out we are having twins has felt like I’m in an alternate universe. Simply walking between meetings and interacting with colleagues has been like some bizarre, suspended reality. All I want to do is tell everyone. Have them share the hand-trembling excitement and surprise that I’m going through. Have them celebrate with me. Have them talk endlessly about what it’s like to be a parent and the earth-shattering life change that I’ve been bestowed. But the best part of this is—I’m doing it with Angie. I’m doing this with the best fucking person I know.
The sweetest.
The funniest.
The smartest.
If it weren’t for her, I have no idea how I would be handling this. Truth be told, I never put much thought into having kids because I planned on being a bachelor my whole life. But now that I’m here, becoming a parent with my best friend, of course we can do this. Just like everything else we’ve ever accomplished together, everything we’ve gone through, everything we’ve struggled with—there’s no one I’d like to struggle with more than her. There’s no one I’d rather celebrate with more than her.
She’s my soft spot and my rock.
And she just texted me.
Angie: I just doubled everything on the registry woozy face emoji> upside-down face emoji> face holding back tears emoji>
Rafael: Aww. Good idea. How many times have you cried since you got to work?
Angie: Only three times. You?
Rafael: I’m a MAN Ang. I don’t—two. I’ve cried twice.
Angie: LMAO
Rafael: I’m leaving work now, so I’ll see you at home in a little bit. Are you still on your veggie taco kick?
Angie: Yes! But the hot salsa we like must have been a bad batch or something bc I can’t taste the heat at all! I’m gonna buy another one on my way home.
Rafael: Really? I didn’t think so. But ok. I’ll see you soon.
Rafael: Please remember to use your GPS so you don’t forget where you’re going again.
Angie: Salute emoji> grimacing face emoji>
When I get home, I start sautéing the cauliflower and chickpeas—it’s a far cry from the street tacos I’ve grown up with, but if Angie can’t stomach meat, then I won’t subject her to being around it. While that’s simmering on the stove, I quickly head to my room to change into comfortable gray lounge pants and a black T-shirt. My rugby kit is already packed for this weekend’s tournament in Saranac, New York, so I grab the duffle and head back downstairs to the main floor. Right before I hit the last step, Angie walks through the front door with a paper grocery bag and a smile that quickly fades when she sees me.
“Where are you going?” she asks, closing the door with her shoulder as I set my bag on the floor next to her and take the groceries from her.
“The Can-Am tournament in Saranac is this weekend, remember? I’m leaving bright and early,” I say warily, but my gut sinks when she doesn’t look like that’s the reason she’s worried.
“What?” she bellows. “You can’t leave me like this. I just found out I’m having two babies at once. All I’m going to do is panic and masturbate all weekend.”
The image of Angie getting off in her bed over and over is both arousing and painful to think about. She said she would come to me for relief, and I promised I would take care of her. I have to make this work because if I don’t, she might find someone else to ease her ache. We may have promised this was open, but I’m going to try my damnedest to make sure she doesn’t need someone else.
“What I told you when we were camping wasn’t an empty promise,” I say confidently. “I told you I’d take care of your needs, right?” She nods. “Well, pack a bag because you’re coming with me.”
“Really?” she perks up as I walk to the back of the townhouse and set the grocery bag on the counter.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I press Dane’s contact and hold it to my ear. “Of course, Angel. You’re coming with me in more ways than one,” I level a seductive stare at her. “Hey, Dane. Your sister is coming in Saranac—I mean to. She’s coming to Saranac. Any chance you could room with someone else so she can stay with me?”
“Ang is going? Sweet,” he says on the other line. “Yeah, I’m sure I can share a room with someone else on the team. Don’t worry about it.” He knows there are no hotel rooms available anywhere near that tiny town six months in advance of this weekend. And I love that her brothers are so used to us platonically being together that they don’t even question why we would sleep in the same room. Sure, they know I got her pregnant, but to them and everyone else, it was a one-time thing.
“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.” When the line cuts, I set the phone on the counter and turn to stir the taco filling as Ang stares at me with a grin. “I take my responsibilities seriously, Angel. Don’t forget it.”