Page 37 of Power Play with My Brother's Irish Friends

20

MIRANDA

I’d gathered as much information as I had available to me and picked an OB close enough to my condo that appointments shouldn’t be a problem. The receptionist had scheduled me for an initial visit, and my heart decided to live in my throat throughout the entire drive, filling out the paperwork, and getting my blood drawn. I’d asked for a blood test to confirm my potential due date, even though I knew the exact moment I’d gotten pregnant. I needed that additional confirmation before my mind would rest. “We’re going to be okay.” I sat on the crinkly paper, my socked feet dangling over the edge, and the air-conditioner pumping frigid air over my exposed spine. The gown did little to stop the plummeting temperature, and I shivered as goosebumps erupted on my skin.

Why were these places always freezing? The warm blue tones on the wall did nothing to warm up the space, even if they were supposed to be a calming color. A metal sink sat in the middle of the far wall, a cabinet on either side. Soft pastel paintings were on all the walls, each one hung around eye level and depicted water scenes probably meant to calm frazzled nerves. Too bad they didn’t work on me. I needed information. That was what settled my nerves and stopped the steady shivers bouncing my heels against the metal table. I’d expected to sit and wait for hours, but I’d barely been on the table five minutes when a knock sounded on the door.

“Miss Lake?” A bespeckled woman marched into the room. She wore pink scrubs and a white lab coat with Doctor Martin stitched over her heart.

“Yes?” My voice squeaked. I stopped and rubbed my neck. “Is everything okay?”

“You noted on your paperwork that you only missed one period?” She looked me over, her eyes warm but somehow distant.

“That’s right.” My nails dug into my palms. Questions pummeled me, and I tried my best to corral them before I launched off the table and demanded she tell me why she looked perturbed. “Why?”

“Your levels are higher than I’d expect.” With a wave of her arm, she flipped the tablet around to show me. “I would expect to see you here.” She tapped a nail on the screen, and the red line that spiked above it. “Instead, you’re here.”

“What does that mean?” The plastic table made a rude noise when I peeled my bare legs off the material and tried to slide off. I thought better on my feet.

Doctor Martin held out a hand, her cool fingers light and easy on my knee. “It means I’m going to do an ultrasound a little earlier than normal. We usually wait until about ten weeks to check the heartbeat and start gathering measurements. You’re not quite there yet.” A quiet smile helped calm my nerves more than the touch or her verbal reassurance. “If you’ll lay back, we’ll get started.”

The slow inhale as I leaned back steadied me further. I’d decided to keep the baby and raise him or her by myself. My feelings for all three men were confusing and complicated, but they’d all made it clear they wanted to keep things professional.

“Will the father be joining you?” Doctor Martin pressed a few buttons on a machine and pulled the cart right up to the edge of the table. “You left that section blank, along with the HIPAA page that allows us to discuss your care with family. Is that accurate?”

I wanted to take offense to the question, but the validity of her concern kept me from pulling a Duncan and blasting her with the tide of anger. Pregnancy hormones kicking in or something keeper? “That’s accurate. The father isn’t in the picture.” None of the potential fathers had any interest in anything serious. Patrick had offered to continue the relationship, but he’d only meant it as sex. His bad boy reputation made him popular in bed but not so much when it came to responsibility.

“But you are in a safe environment?” Doctor Martin continued to press her questions at the same time she moved the gown aside and dribbled warm gel over my stomach.

“Yes. The pregnancy is a result of a one night stand. I live alone, have a secure job that allows me to provide for myself and the baby.” A dangerous note entered my voice. Love for the tiny being safe and protected in my belly overwhelmed me. “The father doesn’t know. Not because he's a bad guy. He’s a wonderful man.” All three of them were. “He is not ready to raise a child. I am.”

Doctor Martin’s slight grin tensed as she stared at the screen. “I completely understand. It’s perfectly acceptable to raise a baby alone. We do like you to have a support system, but there are ways around that if you don’t have family or friends available to help out.” She tapped a few more keys.

“I’ll need more information on that.” I settled my head deeper into the pillow and faced the screen. None of them would want the responsibility of raising a baby. Our one night together was the result of too many emotions–on my part–and too much alcohol all around. I was better off raising the baby alone than shoving the responsibility onto their plates and having them resent me for interfering with their lives and their careers.

Luther would’ve been out the door the minute I showed him a pregnancy test. Even if it turned up negative. He’d been adamant from the beginning that he was not a family man. If the man I’d dated for years would turn his back on me, men I’d slept with once were sure to bolt.

“All right.” The tense lines on Doctor Martin’s face eased. She held the ultrasound wand on my stomach, tilting the angle back and forth. “I have good news.” A smile broke loose, and she pushed the screen around so I had a better view. The letters A and B split the screen into two sections. “Your babies are looking good.”

“Thank goodness.” I laughed for a second before her words took root. “Wait. You said babies. As in plural.”

“I did.” Smile still bright and cheerful, she clicked around on the keyboard and moved the wand half an inch. “Baby A. And Baby B. Fraternal twins.”

“Fraternal…” My voice trailed off as the full implications of her words wrapped around me and strangled my voice. Two babies. I gulped and fanned my overheated face. I’d been freezing seconds ago, but knowledge brought a rush of heat. Sweat broke out on my forehead. “Twins.” Awe colored my tone.

Doctor Martin patted my knee before wiping down the wand and returning it to the cart. “I’ll print out the picture for you. You’ll need to follow up with me according to the schedule my nurse handed you. That’s non negotiable.”

I nodded, my limbs going numb. “I wanted a family.” My lips wrapped around the words and pushed them out for clarity. “I guess I’ll have one.”

“Without a doubt.” A paper popped out of the machine, and Doctor Martin tore it off the roll and handed it to me.

Was I getting in over her head? Probably. But I had wanted a family of my own as long as I could remember. After losing my parents and Austin moving away, the ache had intensified. “I’ve always loved kids.” I’d even considered becoming a teacher instead of a PR manager, but my current career gave me better options and more money to raise the family I’d craved. “You’re sure there’s two?” I held the slip of paper up to the light and traced the outlines with my thumb.

“Positive.” She washed and dried her hands. “There are a few extra risks with fraternal twins. Because both babies form in separate sacs and have potentially been sired by different sperm, the potential for complications rises. That’s why I need you to be sure and keep your appointments. You’ll undergo routine testing, along with ultrasounds.”

I clutched the photo to my chest. “You have my word. I’ll be here every single time.” It didn’t matter what I had to do. I’d move heaven and earth for these babies. They were my world now. I had no idea how I’d handle caring for two babies at the same time, but I’d figure it out. Without help. They were my children. I wanted them, loved them already, and would do anything to protect them.

The chill of the room had evaporated, and I’d stopped overheating once reassured my babies were okay.

Once Doctor Martin handed me a stack of papers and pamphlets and left the room, I scooted to the edge of the bed and slid to the floor. My socked feet made no sound on the blue linoleum. I hurried to change back into my regular clothes and rushed to the checkout window to make my appointments. Armed with more papers and enough questions to keep me busy half the night, I stepped outside the brick building and danced a jig right there on the sidewalk. No one paid me any attention. I was just another person who didn’t matter except to the few people I’d let into my world.

Maybe I should tell them. Doctor Martin’s words came back to me. Two sperm. The thought felt preposterous, but what if the babies had different fathers? Didn’t they deserve to know? Or was I deluding myself into thinking they’d care if they knew I carried their progeny?

Car horns blasted in a series that ran the length of the street. Shouts joined in the cacophony and pushed me down the sidewalk and into a nearby coffee shop. I’d been warned against overdoing the caffeine and settled for a decaf tea. When should I talk to Duncan and the others? Not on the phone. If I was going to tell them, it would be in person. The tea helped settle the burst of queasiness and gave me a chance to flip through my work schedule, my upcoming appointments, and the team’s games.

A couple walked in and took the table across from me, their voices joyful and hyper as they talked about an upcoming promotion.

I patted my stomach, anxious for my own personal promotion to motherhood. I looked over several websites and scoured the information from the doctor’s office. I had a little more time before I’d become too big to hide the pregnancy. “Just enough time.” I tapped my phone, lighting up the screen, and navigating to the airline website. “Three weeks.” I’d keep it quiet for three weeks, until I flew back to Washington to watch a game. That gave me time to decide if I’d tell them and work up a plan of action to even start the conversation if I chose that route.

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