Page 42 of Salty Pickle

A rush of emotion rises from my belly, stinging my eyes and nose. I clamp it down. It doesn’t suit me. This baby could be anyone’s.

Gina turns to me. “You should record it with your phone for her. Patients like to listen to it when they’re anxious. It’s soothing.”

Relieved to have something to do, I tug my phone from my pocket and slide it to video. The focus stays on the probe, Lucy’s smiling face mildly blurred in the background. The sound reverberates, whomp, whomp, whomp.

“That’s your son,” Lucy says, her voice catching. She isn’t saying it like a woman on a talk show who’s trying to snag a baby daddy. There is no insistence, no question. She says it simply, like you might point out, “That’s my mom.” Or, “Come meet my sister.”

My throat tightens. Our gazes meet, and another wave crashes over me. Damn it. I flip off the phone and shove it back in my pocket.

“We’ll listen to Mom for a second, make sure blood flow is good to the baby.” Gina moves the probe and after a moment, a slower, heavier beat takes over the sound.

“Eighty-two, right on the money. Sounds perfect.” Gina switches off the machine and uses a white towel to wipe the gel off Lucy’s belly. “I’m going to do a quick feel of the cervix to make sure there are no surprises, then I’ll send you to schedule your follow-ups.”

My phone beeps, and it’s a blessed distraction. I turn away to look at the text. It’s nothing, just a reminder of a meeting uptown at three, but I use it as an excuse to punch nonsense into my phone like I must reply.

“That’s it!” Gina says.

There’s a rustle, and I turn to see Gina helping Lucy sit up. “You look perfect. Let me know if those pains get more intense, or you feel like it’s contractions instead. I’d like to see you every week until you deliver. Make sure to schedule a sonogram before you leave, and they’ll give you paperwork for the bloodwork at checkout.”

Lucy nods. She steps down, pulling the gown around her. “I’ll make the appointments.”

“So nice to meet you both. We’ll bring Dr. Henry in on your next visit so you can meet him. He’ll be the one called in when you deliver.”

“Will you be there?” Lucy asks. “Everyone is so new.”

“I make rounds too, but Dr. Henry will perform the winning catch!”

It’s meant to be a funny statement, but something in Lucy breaks, and there goes the tears again.

Gina looks at me. When I don’t move, she opens her arms, and Lucy steps in for a hug.

This is unexpected. Gina holds onto her for a long moment as Lucy weeps into her shoulder. Gina looks over her at me. “Pregnancy is an emotional time. You go and snuggle up to this strong man of yours and cry all you need to.”

She turns Lucy to me. I’m not sure what to do but accept her in my arms.

“There you go,” Gina says. “You two are going to be fine. Call if you need anything.”

I plan to release Lucy as soon as Gina closes the door, but Lucy doesn’t let go, crying softly on my shoulder. So I leave my arms around her. I admit it must be hard for her, surrounded by strangers, in a city where she knows no one, having a baby.

Her body heaves with each breath, like it’s a great difficulty.

What am I supposed to do with this? I barely know her.

But I stay there, simply holding onto her until she seems spent.

“I’m fine,” she says.

Right. Crying for five minutes straight is fine.

“We should have asked Gina about the DNA test.”

I realize it’s an asshole thing to say the minute it’s out. But it’s done.

Lucy lets out a long breath. “Can we wait until the hospital for that? It’s hard enough showing up at a new clinic this late term.”

“All right. We can’t do it until then, anyway.”

She moves to the corner where her clothes are. “Will you turn away this time?” Her voice is dull and sad.

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