Page 37 of The Curveball
“What?”
There’s an emotion stirring behind her eyes that I can’t quite make sense of. Not in the mere seconds I have before I need to turn back to the road in front of me.
“You really are a good guy.”
It comes out as a statement, not a question, butthere’s still an obvious tone of disbelief to her voice. I flex my grip on the steering wheel and debate how to respond. I know she meant it as a compliment, but I also feel no small amount of frustration. Am I not doing enough to make her believe that about me?
“Does that still surprise you?”
I chance another quick glance over to see her head resting against the headrest and a warm expression pointed my way.
“Not anymore.”
I exhale.Thank fuck.
“Good.”
Taking a chance, I move one hand and rest it just above her knee, giving her leg a gentle squeeze as I pull up in front of the entrance to the hospital. “I’ll wait here while you grab your phone.”
Less than fifteen minutes later, we’re at the clinic and being shown into a small room, with big windows that look out over the town. Pregnancy growth charts are on one wall, along with some paintings of women and babies. The lighting is soft and warm, and the couch we sit down on is surprisingly comfortable.
“This is a doctor’s office?” I mutter quietly to Sage, earning a giggle.
“Midwife.”
The door opens and an older woman walks in with a welcoming smile. “Hello, I’m Enid. You must be Sage and Brady?”
We shake hands and then she gets down to business, asking Sage all kinds of questions. When she goes tocalculate an estimated date of conception, Sage interrupts her.
“Actually, we know exactly the date it happened.” Her cheeks turn pink.
Enid’s expression doesn’t give anything away as she makes a note on the paperwork in front of her. “Alright, wonderful. And how have you been feeling? Have you felt any fetal movement yet?”
“I don’t think so,” Sage says. “Maybe some weird bubbly feelings, but I figured I was hungry.”
“That’s normal,” Enid says. “A lot of first-time moms don’t feel much until later on.”
“Would it help if she laid on her left side? I read that it increases blood flow to the baby and might make their movements easier to feel.”
Both Sage and Enid look at me, but I’m focused on avoiding Sage’s surprised face.
“You read that?”
I rub the back of my neck, feeling a little embarrassed and hoping she doesn’t think I’m overstepping. “Yeah, I got a couple of books on pregnancy to read.”
Enid clears her throat and gives me a nod, like she’s impressed. “That’s a great point Brady, and you’re correct. Lying on your left side is ideal, especially as the pregnancy progresses.”
Gesturing to Sage, she says, “Do you mind lying down for me and lifting your shirt so I can take some measurements?”
I hop up off the couch and move to the side so Sage has room, but now I don’t know where to stand or what to do. I want to see everything, be a part of everything,but where’s the line? Should I look away? Not that she’s showing much, just her stomach, I assume, but still. I don’t know how to act and that’s got me feeling antsy.
But if Sage feels uncomfortable with my presence as she pulls up her shirt, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she focuses on Enid, who’s using a thin fabric tape to measure her belly.
Her belly that I can’t stop staring at. My child is growing in there. My flesh and blood is rounding out Sage’s stomach. Holy crap.
“Excellent, everything is measuring perfectly. Shall we take a listen to their heartbeat?”
Sage nods eagerly and finally looks over to me with a wobbly smile. I take a step closer, and when she reaches out, I take another step and grasp her hand in mine.
