Page 73 of The Way We Score

Liv is lying on an exam table with the back raised so she’s sitting up. She’s wearing a cloth hospital gown, and a paper sheet is over her front. I’m sitting in a chair at her side, ready to be supportive.

When she told me she had to do her first ultrasound, I hopped on the next flight to Birmingham. Reddit saidThe Expectant Fatherwas the best pregnancy book, and it said this is a very important moment—which made me sayNo shitout loud.

Leaning closer, I whisper, “This is the fanciest doctor’s office I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of doctor’s offices.”

“He’s supposed to be the best OB in Birmingham,” she whispers back. “Only… I’m not really excited to have a guy down there.”

I’m not excited about it either, but see above.Supportive.

After she fell asleep duringDirty Dancing, and we spent another night with her on the couch and me on the floor, Livdecided she’d better head home. Especially, since she’d only brought a change of underwear and a toothbrush.

I was pretty proud that she’d run straight to me when her primary physician confirmed she was pregnant. I was also pretty smug when I discovered she’d taken my jersey with her. She says it’s a comfortable night shirt, and I’m counting that as a win. Getting closer.

Liv is one of the smartest people I know. She’s strong and capable. She’s a fucking lawyer. She can literally handle anything, and thinking how she ran to me like that, without even packing, has me doing my best to remind myself it’s not The Garrett Show.

Internally, I’m strutting around, feeling like a star. Like I’m her own personal bodyguard. Or better, I’m her baby daddy.

Putting her on the plane was tough. Not touching her for more than awkwardly long hugs is tough, but when she kissed my cheek at the security line, I took it as my signal she wants to go slow.

I can do that. I can go as slow as I need to go if it means we’ll be together in the end.

While we might be going slow physically, we’ve been texting pretty much nonstop.

Liv

Another day of toast for breakfast.

I thought you’d stopped barfing.

Liv

I have, but the nausea is real.

Heading to the stadium for training.

Liv

Kept lunch down.

Didn’t kill Ricky.

Liv

Scheduled the first ultrasound. Doc said I had to do it this week, so I picked Wednesday morning. I’m sorry.

I’ll be there.

At this point,I’m still working on the details of getting out of my contract. I get paid on a weekly basis, so the worst that could happen is I’d lose out on the rest of the season. But I’ve been with the team so long, it’s possible they’ll pay me out—it’s my hope, considering my situation.

I need to figure out what to do with my apartment. I could try subletting, but I don’t think I could get away with it, considering everybody knows me. One of the pitfalls of being sociable.

“Good afternoon, Miss Bankston!” Dr. Anderson is an older fellow with white hair and glasses. “You must be the husband? Nice to meet you, Mr. Bankston.”

My brow rises, but I don’t correct him. Liv isn’t sold on this guy, so I’m pretty confident this might be our only visit.

“Is this your first ultrasound?” He looks down his nose at us, and I’m not sure why I feel like a teenager confessing I knocked up my girlfriend.

I can’t even imagine what it’ll be like when we tell our families. They’ll go crazy. Hell, they’ll probably throw a party for the whole town.

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