Chapter 11
LITTLE BEAN
LYDIA
We linger in the waiting room for nearly two hours before getting taken back to a room. My wrist aches, but I really don’t think it’s broken. If it were a weekday or if any urgent care were open, I’d suggest we go there, but we’re out of luck because it’s a Sunday night.
My plan of waiting to tell Fletcher I’m pregnant is about to be blown out of the water. They’re going to want to do X-rays, and I’ll have to drop the news. Only now, I’m worried about the baby.
Could my fall have hurt them? Would an ultrasound be able to see anything this early?
My uninjured hand shakes as I climb onto the hospital bed, cradling the now-melted bag of ice to my wrist. The nurse asks me a few questions, and I debate whether now would be an appropriate time to tell her, but she finishes her questions and leaves, saying the doctor will be in shortly.
Fletcher scrolls aimlessly on his phone while I build up the courage to reveal my secret. I have to tell him now; it’s the right thing to do. What will his reaction be? Will he be disappointed in me? I mean, why wouldn’t he? My life is a mess, and I have no idea how to fix it.
My parents never hesitate to tell me anytime I do something wrong, and no, Fletcher has never been like that, but this is life-altering news, and it’s going to change everything.
What I need to do is stop overthinking this.
“I have to tell you something,” I blurt.
He drops his phone into his lap, staring at me with those insightful sage-green eyes. He’s always so in tune with me that I’m not surprised how worried he’s been over me for the last few days.
His eyes narrow. “You can tell me anything. What is it?”
“Fletcher, I’m—”
There’s a knock on the door, and a young doctor strolls in. I drop my head back onto the pillow behind me.
Of course.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Evenson. I heard we have a possible broken wrist?” She strides over to me, snapping gloves onto her dainty hands.
“I’m pretty sure it’s sprained.” I offer my wrist to her.
She asks me a few questions about my fall and how it happened. When she prods it and turns it a bit, I wince, prompting her to apologize under her breath.
“I think you’re right, but to be safe, we should probably do some X-rays.”
I don’t stop the furrow from forming on my brow. “Do we… have to?”
“I would highly suggest it. It’s the easiest way to diagnose accurately.”
“She’ll do it,” Fletcher says sternly from across the room.
Irritation with him burns in my chest. I don’t need him telling me what to do, not right now. It only makes me worry what he’ll say when he finds out.
“Fletcher,” I grit out.
I’m not a child. I’m a twenty-eight-year-old woman.
“The doctor says you need it.”
I put my good hand to my face, taking a deep breath. “Can you get X-rays if you’re pregnant?”
The room goes still.
“Ah,” Dr. Evenson says, finally breaking the silence. “How far along are you?”
“I think nine weeks,” I whisper. “I found out last week.”
“In that case, we can forgo the X-rays. But I would still like to get an ultrasound to check on Baby. Is that something you’re okay with?”
I nod, my mouth dry.
“I'll place the order, and someone will be in shortly. Would you be comfortable if we did some labs, too?”
I nod again, still unable to speak.
“As for your wrist, why don’t we do a brace for a few weeks, and if it is not getting better, you can follow up with an orthopedic provider.”
I shake my head, finding my voice. “Okay, that sounds good to me.”
“I’ll be back in a while.”
I look up and thank Dr. Evenson as she exits the small room. Only then do I look at Fletcher. He’s staring off into the distance, looking totally lost. His eyes have lost all their light, his face a blank mask of confusion.
I clear my throat, swallowing thickly. He’s not saying anything.
Why isn’t he saying anything? I take a deep breath as I prepare for his disappointment.
It seems like I’m always the disappointment in my parents’ lives, so why wouldn’t I be one for him, too?
It was only a matter of time until the person who matters most to me realizes how much of a mess I am.
“Say something.”
Fletcher grunts, shifting in his seat. “You’re pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I found out the day of your home opener, and I didn’t want to stress you out.” My voice is small.
“You can tell me anything. I knew something was up. I knew it.” He runs a hand down his face as he breathes heavily. His eyes widen. “The bag you threw in your room. It wasn’t vibrators, was it? It was a pregnancy test?”
“Yeah.” I swipe a tear from my eye. My emotions are all over the place. One minute, I’m frustrated with him. The next, I’m crying. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’ve been processing, trying to talk to—”
“Is the father—” Fletcher starts to speak, but he’s interrupted by a nurse striding in.
I shake my head, and his face falters for only a moment before he maintains a passive look.
She greets us with a smile. “Ready? I can take you down the hall to radiology, and if everything looks good, you’ll be out of here before you know it.”
“Great.” I climb out of the bed and into the wheelchair she brought.
“Dad, are you coming?” The nurse directs her question to Fletcher, who blanches, leaning back in his chair and looking at me, a silent question in his eyes.
Neither of us corrects her. He’s not the dad, but he is my person.
I can’t make him come back with me. If I’m going to be a single mom, I need to get used to doing things on my own.
Before I can say anything, Fletcher stands, coming to my side as we leave the small room.
His silent support sends a wave of gratitude through me, and I close my eyes as we make our way through the quiet halls.
I know everything is going to change in the next few minutes.
It’s all about to become real, not just a line on a plastic stick.
An uneasy feeling eats at me. I thought I wanted this. I thought I was ready for a baby, for this major life change, but as it comes to a head, maybe I’m not. I can barely take care of myself. How can I care for a baby?
“Alright, Lydia, you can undress from the waist down and get on the bed. There’s a blanket to cover you.” The nurse gestures to the thin white blanket. “The tech will come in just a moment.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”
She exits, leaving Fletcher and me alone.
“I’ll—uh—” he stutters. “I’ll step out while you change.”
Things have never been awkward between us, and I hate that this is changing things. A change in our friendship is the last thing I need right now. He’s been my constant for years now, and I don’t think I can do this without him or his support.
“Okay,” I murmur.
He leaves, quickly shutting the door behind him.
I strip down and fold my leggings, putting them and my underwear on a chair next to the wall, being sure to shove my underwear into my leggings so they’re out of sight. Getting out of my clothes one-handed is a bit of a struggle, but I do it. I climb onto the bed, avoiding using my injured hand.
Just as I’m covering up with the blanket, there’s a soft knock on the door. “Lydia, are you ready?”
“Yep.” My voice cracks as I rest my head on the thin pillow.
Fletcher follows the tech back inside, the dazed look still on his face.
He sits in one of the plastic chairs against the wall, resting his head in his hands again.
The physical distance between us feels like a chasm with jagged rocks waiting at the bottom, and I fear that soon, it will morph into him pulling away from me completely.
The tech introduces herself, explaining how she’ll perform the ultrasound and what to expect, but I’m only half listening.
I know I gave her consent to do the ultrasound, but outside of that, there’s not much I’m comprehending.
My heart pounds furiously in my chest, panic thrumming through my veins as she lifts the blanket and slides the ultrasound wand inside me.
Discomfort rages through me, and I squeeze my eyes shut. She moves it around a bit until she finds a spot.
“There it is,” she says. “Want to see?”
I tentatively open my eyes, turning my head to the screen.
She’s pointing at a little bean-sized black and white blob, and just like that, everything changes. That’s my little bean. I made that.
I gasp, and the tech softly laughs. “Want to hear the heartbeat?”
I’m nodding before she finishes her sentence. A fast, steady whooshing fills the room, and my heart flutters. I’m so focused on the tiny bean on the screen that I don’t notice I’m reaching out a hand, needing something to ground me.
Warmth wraps around me as Fletcher senses my needs, his hand squeezing mine. His eyes are wide and moist as he takes in the screen.
“That’s your baby,” he says, his voice cracking.
I can’t speak, so I rest my head on his shoulder as tears stream down my face. I know with absolute certainty that I’m making the right choice.