A picture pops up on my screen. It looks like an ultrasound. I’m not good at reading these things. They basically look like one of those inkblot tests, but I can clearly read the labels “Baby A” and “Baby B.” Holy shit! Emma is actually having twins!
A picture of my sister pops up with Emma’s incoming call.
“Is that what I think it is?” I answer.
“Well, hello to you too!” she responds chipperly.
“Ems, seriously, are you having twins?” I pull out some whiskey and debate using a glass or drinking straight from the bottle. I take a swig from the bottle; no sense in wasting a cup.
“Yes!” she squeals. “I had my ultrasound this morning. Mom came with me, but the doctor allowed Grant to be on video. Mom is flipping out right now. Grant looked white as a ghost, but he’ll be okay.”
“That’s…wow! That’s incredible! How are you feeling?”
“I’m great! Mom was in shock, but I’m going with the flow. It wasn’t a surprise. I knew I was having twins.”
“Because of what Gram said?”
“Because of what Gram said. And you know what that means! You have to tell me what Gram said to you. I know it was more than she just wanted to see you settled down. I saw the look on your face when I asked you. She said something more. Spill it!”
“Didn’t I say I would tell you if it was confirmed twin girls?”
“Nope. Our deal was you would tell me when it was confirmed that I was having twins. We didn’t include the sex of the babies but trust me, they’re both girls. I just know it. Don’t try to get out of this.”
“Fine.” I sit down on the couch and take a sip of my drink. “Gram told me that she always knew who I was supposed to be with and that she was on her way.”
Silence.
“Ems? Are you there?” I look at my phone to see if I lost the connection, then hear sniffling on the other end. “Are you crying?”
“Yeah, I am.” She sniffs. “I really hope that’s true.”
“Ems—”
“If you say you’re fine, I swear I’m going to come through this phone and slap you! You are not fine! You haven’t been fine since high school, and that was over a decade ago, Jax. A decade! You have been going through the motions for years now like arobot. You never laugh anymore! I miss your laugh!” She sniffles again. “Can you humor me for just a bit?”
“Sure, I guess I can.”
“Gram told you that she knew who you were meant to be with? That is a little weird. Does that mean you know her too? Do I know her? And how long has she known this girl? Wait! It is a girl, right? You and Travis aren’t more than…you know…friends?”
“Hilarious, Ems, and yes, Gram was definitely referring to a female. Look, don’t put much stock into this. You know her mind wasn’t as clear towards the end. Maybe she was dreaming, or the pain meds were messing with her or something.”
“But she was right about the twins,” Emma counters.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” I lift my drink to my lips, but a thought occurs to me. “Do you know anyone from Georgia?”
“Umm… I don’t think so. Why? Did you meet someone?”
“No, nothing like that,” I lie. “Forget I said anything.” I change the focus back to Emma’s pregnancy and we talk a little longer before ending the call.
She’s already on her way.
Those were the last words Gram ever spoke to me—to anyone for that matter. Her final words were about someone who may or may not even exist. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about what Gram said to me. I thought we knew all the same people. If it was someone I knew, why didn’t she just come out and say it? She also said we were supposed to meet years ago. What does that mean? Did Gram not know where she was? If this girl even exists, who’s to say she isn’t married by now?
I shake my head and take another sip of my drink. Why am I wondering about some hypothetical girl? I’ve stood by my bachelor status for years. Though Emma was right about me not laughing anymore. I used to be a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, butthat was so many years ago. Truth be told, I’m afraid to be happy again.
The next morning, I arrive at the pool a little earlier, hoping to get there before Aly and reclaim my lane. A mixture of disappointment and excitement hits me as soon as I see her well into her routine. I might not get my lane back, but at least I get to enjoy the view. I watch Aly propel herself through the water and crash her feet against the wall of the pool as she flip turns. I wince; been there, done that. While the pool at our condo is nice, it’s smaller than the normal Olympic-sized pool and it doesn’t have markers on the bottom to help time your turns. If you time them too fast, you can’t properly push off the side, and if you time them too slow, you risk crashing into the wall.
As she makes her way towards the shallow end, I place my hand low on the wall with my palm facing her. It’s a signal used to get the attention of swimmers since yelling doesn’t exactly work. She slows her pace as she approaches.