Page 32 of Coming Up Roses

“Sorry, sister-girl, they just called me back. I’ll have to tell y’all later!” I end the call and chuck my phone back into my bag before she can start griping at me.

* * *

After the dreadedweigh-in at the nurses' station, I’m led to an exam room to wait on Dr. Mills. I’m sitting on the table giggling softly to myself at the flurry of text notifications from Azalea and Seraphine when there’s a soft knock. “Come in,” I call through the door.

“Good morning, Ms. McGraw. I presume you and baby are well? According to the ultrasound notes, the little tyke is right on track.” He always makes a point to ask about the baby, and not necessarily in a doctor way. Sometimes, it’s in a more concerned way. He never gets too personal, but I can tell from his tone of voice that he wants to know more about his grandson, so I always try to offer up little tidbits here and there.

“Yes sir, we are. I’m so excited for a little boy.”

“Good, good. I–I’m glad to hear that.” His voice is soft, almost wistful. I know he cares about this baby, even if his wife and son don’t. “Lie back now, please, and I’ll take some measurements and then we can listen for the heartbeat.” I follow his instructions, and he goes about his work in silence.

“All right, Ms. McGraw, you’re measuring right at 16 weeks. Let’s take a listen to baby’s heartbeat.”

More warm gel, and then the small exam room is filled with a swooshing sound, the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard—my little man’s heartbeat. My eyes once again fill with tears, and with a quick glance at the good doctor, I see his have, too. It’s moments like this when I truly want to hate Taylor for not being involved. How he cannot love this baby is beyond me. Dr. Mills may not be the most affectionate man, but his heart is good. It’s a damn shame Taylor didn’t take more after him.

“Sounds good, 135 beats per minute.” He rolls over to his desk and hands me a towel to wipe off the goo, discreetly wiping his eyes before extending a hand to help me sit back up. “Do you have any questions for me today?” he asks as he enters notes on the computer.

“Um, yes sir. I do.” He swivels around to face me with an arched brow. “Is it a pregnancy thing to have weird dreams?” I stare at the wall behind him, embarrassed by my silly question.

“Oh, yes. Yes, Ms. McGraw. It’s from your increased hormone levels. Nothing to worry about. Anything else?” I shake my head no. “All right then, please have them schedule four weeks from now, and be sure to call if you have any questions.”

He stands and leaves the room, and I follow quickly behind. I’m sure the girls are losing their minds waiting on me.

* * *

Decidingto take a page from AzzyJo’s book, I want to get creative with telling the girls I’m having a boy, so I make a quick trip to Sprinkles, our local cupcake shop.

On the drive over, I call the store and ask them if they can whip up what I’m wanting on short notice, and they assure me they can. Fifteen minutes later, I’m out the door and on my way to Southern Roots, cupcakes and all.

Walking into the salon, I head straight for the dispensary, gesturing for Seraphine to tag along. She holds up one long, slender finger to let me know she’ll be a minute. I place the cupcake box down onto the table in front of Azalea, next to the salad she's picking at.

She arches one perfectly sculpted brow as if to say, What the hell, Myla? Huh, guess she didn’t appreciate my hanging up on her earlier. Oops. My smile stretches from ear-to-ear, showing every bit of the amusement I’m feeling.

“Having a good day?” I ask her.

“If you don’t tell me what that baby is right this cotton pickin’ minute, I’ll—"

“Hush up and open the box,” I tell her, nodding toward where it sits on the table.

Seraphine walks in right as she flips back the lid to reveal a half-dozen cupcakes iced in different shades of blue. Azalea’s eyes are as big as dinner plates between the cupcakes and me.

“Does this mean what I think it means?”

Seraphine peeks over my shoulder into the box before turning to look at me, anxious for my reply.

“Yes, it’s a boy!” I shout. The next thing I know, they both have their arms wrapped snuggly around me, murmuring their congratulations.

“We have to start plannin’ your shower now, Myla Rose!” Azalea insists. “Oh, and we need to get you registered too!” She lets out a loud squeak and gives my shoulders a tight squeeze. “I’m just so excited! I’m getting a nephew! Have you told Drake and Simon?”

Seraphine excuses herself back to the front desk when the salon phone rings. She's young, but a hard worker—and I'm damn sure glad she's a part of my tribe.

“No.” I scoff. “Like I’d be dumb enough to tell anyone before you! I value my life, thank you very much. Plus, I think I want to surprise them. I just need to figure out how.”

“Ooh! Let me think on that. I know we’ll come up with something good. Anyway, Drake said we could have your shower at his house. I won’t tell him it’s a boy or anything, but I’ll go ahead and get with him to start plannin’.”

“You sure y’all can handle that?” I ask her, fighting to conceal my grin. Those two are a hot mess.

“What is that supposed to mean? Are you implyin’ that I’m incapable of handling Drake-freaking-Collins?”

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