Chapter 8
Georgia
“Ithink I’m going to puke.”
“From morning sickness or nerves?” Grayson asks the question like he doesn’t already know the answer, placing his hand on my knee to keep it from shaking.
We are sitting in the waiting room for our twenty-week ultrasound appointment, and I’m a bundle of nerves. So far, I haven’t felt the baby kick yet, and from everything I read, I should have. So, keeping my mind from wandering down dangerous paths is hard.
“Nerves,” I answer, my stomach jolting. “definitely nerves.”
“Everything’s going to be fine.” Grayson’s voice is warm and soothing, taking the edge off a little bit.
Leaning over, I lay my head on his shoulder and let myself sink into him, taking comfort in his presence.
“Georgia.” The nurse calls my name, and my legs tremble as I stand.
Grayson laces his fingers with mine, and we walk together to meet her.
The hallway back to the room is long, and my heart beats hard with each step we take. The nurse chatters away, with Grayson answering most of her questions because there’s a ringing in my ears that makes it hard to hear her properly.
When we reach the room, the lights are already dimmed, ready for us to see our baby.
“Just make yourself comfortable,” the nurse says, gesturing to the exam table in the middle of the room.
There’s a chair set up beside it for Grayson to sit in, and as soon as I lay down, he’s there, never leaving my side for a second.
A television sits on the wall in front of us, where we can see everything the ultrasound tech sees.
Cool gel hits my skin, followed by the ultrasound wand, and then a baby fills up the screen, moving limbs and squirming.
My soul sighs in relief.
I turn my head to look at Grayson, who is staring at the screen, tears filling his eyes.
“That’s our baby, Gray.”
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fights back the tears.
“Yeah, Peach,” he croaks, “it is.”
His hand squeezes mine, but his eyes do not move from the screen.
I can see it now, the way Grayson’s love looks. It’s soft and palpable, and all the times he’s looked at me this way come flooding back. Even before Nate died, Grayson looked at me the way he’s looking at our baby, but I mistook it for friendship when it was love all along.
I return my attention to the screen, watching as she moves the wand over my stomach to all the parts that make up our baby.
The monitor stops over the heart, and with each beat I watch, my own grows a little bigger.
The ultrasound tech is quiet as she takes a few more measurements, and when she turns to us, a big grin on her face, I finally feel the joy of this pregnancy.
I’ve been holding my breath, waiting for something to go wrong, but in one fell swoop, all the air rushes back into my lungs.
“Would you like to know the gender?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Grayson’s answer startles me, and I turn my head to look at him.
We hadn’t discussed this. I had just assumed that we would find out. I like to plan, and he knows that.
When I look at him, he’s already looking back at me, a shy smile on his lips. His hand comes up, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I thought maybe we could save it—for a moment, that’s just the two of us. Is that okay?”
Understanding washes over me, and I don’t think I could love him any more than I do right now.
“I will always choose quiet moments with you, Gray.”
______________________
“Keep up, slowpoke,” I taunt Grayson as we walk toward one of my favorite places in this town.
“We are not going up there. I hope you know that.”
At the end of the path we are walking down, there is a water tower with our names on it.
Grayson, Nate, and I used to come here. We would climb up the ladder, sit, and watch the world go by.
We still come here often, only without Nate, and sure, there’s still a part of Nate that remains here with us, but we’ve also made it our own spot.
We’ve had many dates up here, talking about life and love and heartbreak, and I can’t imagine any other place I would want to find out the gender of our baby.
“I know, Grayson,” I say, pulling on his hand. “Don’t be such a dud.”
I glance at him over my shoulder, and he cocks one eyebrow.
“Okay, fine. I might have climbed it, but I will stay on the ground just for you.”
He sighs. “You’re going to give me gray hairs one day.”
My answering grin is sickly sweet. “You’d make a hot silver fox.”
Grayson chokes—on what, I’m not sure—I guess his spit. It’s not like he’s eating anything.
I have to bite my lip to keep from cackling as we head further down the path.
Today, I feel lighter and more like myself.
We decided to wait until this weekend to have our private gender reveal, and I’ve been on the edge of my seat all week.
With each day that passed, though, the weight of the anxiety that had been pressing onto my shoulders started to weigh a little less, and the excitement started settling in.
The ultrasound appointment changed things for me. I saw a healthy baby, and I know he or she is growing safe inside me. I also found out that the reason I haven’t felt any kicks yet is because I have an anterior placenta, so it will probably be a couple more weeks before I can feel them.
I’ve been comparing many of my pregnancy milestones to those on the internet, and I worried when I didn’t meet them. But that appointment made it sink in that every pregnancy is different.
We reach the base of the water tower, and I turn toward Grayson with my hand out, waiting for him to hand over the backpack he is carrying.
He takes it off without a word and places it in my hand. Unzipping it, I pull out a blanket for us to sit on, along with a bottle of sparkling grape juice and two plastic flutes. Grayson spreads the blanket while I pour us both a cup.
With the blanket spread across the ground, he takes my hand, helping me lower myself to the ground. I’m not that big yet, but Grayson’s love language is acts of service. And I’m learning to let him help me.
When we are both settled on the ground, drinks in hand, Grayson reaches into the bag and pulls out the envelope. We had the ultrasound tech put the gender in there and seal it shut so neither of us could peek—no matter how tempted I’ve been this week.
Sitting beside my husband with anticipation buzzing through my veins, I’m glad I waited because nothing can compare to this moment with him.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I nod, unable to get the words out.
My heart flutters as he flips the envelope over, sliding his finger under the seal to open it. His hands tremble as he reaches inside and pulls out the paper, and it hits me that my unflappable husband is nervous.
Reaching out, I place my hand over his to stop him from looking yet.
He looks up at me with a question in his eyes.
“Does it matter to you—whether it’s a girl or boy, I mean?” I ask.
Grayson shakes his head, but I don’t miss the fear in his eyes.
“Hey,” I say, scooting closer to climb into his lap. He pulls me to him willingly, and I throw my leg over his so I’m facing him, “tell me what’s going on in your head right now.”
The muscle works in his jaw, a sure sign he’s trying to hold back, but I won’t let him. Lifting my hands, I cup his face until he looks down at me.
“Talk to me, Gray.”
He clears his throat and nods, his icy blue eyes piercing mine. I watch a hundred thoughts run through his mind until he settles on how to talk to me. That’s the thing about Grayson; he loves to fix things for me but doesn’t always know how to let me fix things for him.
“I just want you to know that no matter what this baby is, I will love them.”
“But?”
He looks over my shoulder, not quite meeting my gaze. “But I’m terrified of this baby being a boy?”
My thumb rubs over the scruff on his jaw. “Why, Grayson?”
His eyes flick to mine for a second and then back over my shoulder again. “Because I’m terrified he will turn out like me.”
His fear crashes into me, and it’s all I can do not to sling my arms around his neck and hold him to me as tight as I can. But right now, I need him to hear what I have to say before I do.
“Grayson Lewis, you look at me right now,” I demand.
He does but is reluctant, offering me a smirk to lighten the mood.
“You’ve got that mom voice down pat already,” he says, trying to take the attention off him, but I’m not having it.
We aren’t joking right now. Not this time. I need you to listen to what I have to say because it’s important, okay?”
That wipes the smirk off his lips, and he nods, clearing his throat like this makes him uncomfortable. That’s too dang bad, though, because he’s been there a thousand times to talk me out of my head. It’s my turn to repay the favor.
“It would be my honor to have a son who is everything like you because I know sometimes you can’t see it, Grayson, but you are one of the greatest men I’ve ever met.
You are kind, even if you try to hide it behind your smirk.
You love fiercely, and you take care of the people you love.
And if that envelope says we are having a boy, I will thank God for the chance to raise him to be just like you. ”
The muscle in Grayson’s jaw works as he swallows, trying to hold himself together. But it’s not enough. I want him to know he can fall apart with me, and I’ll always put him back together.
“I haven’t always been that man, Peach.”
I shake my head, denying it. “No. You just haven’t always allowed yourself to see it. But you’ve always been that man, Grayson. Now, are you ready to see what’s on that paper?”
Lifting his hand, he holds it between us. “Why don’t you do the honors?”
With unsteady hands, I take it from him but stop once more. “Ask me what I hope it is.”
His throat works, swallowing around the emotion I see playing in his eyes. “What do you hope it is, Peach?”
“I hope it’s a boy because I would get to love a smaller version of you.”
He leans forward, placing a soft kiss against my lips, and when he pulls back, tears still slide down his cheeks, soaking into his beard as I unfold the paper.
And when I read the words printed in black, my cheeks ache from the smile that splits across my face.
“Well, if you really want a girl, we’ll just have to try again, but this little guy is the answer to my prayers, I think.”