Page 54 of Beautiful Storm

“Coming,” I sing as I jog to catch up with her, only slowing when I fall into line, taking her in. Today she’s in black yoga pants and a loose-fitting tee. Her wild hair is braided loosely down her back, with random strands poking out at all angles. I find myself staring until she starts clenching and unclenching her hands nervously.

“It’s going to be fine,” I whisper as I step closer. I have no idea if that’s true, but I have an urge to put her mind at ease. Like I’m reverting back to the kid that used to do anything he could to protect her, and forgetting all the shit that’s happened over the years.

“What?” Amelia asks as she jumps, obviously not hearing me approach.

“I said it’s going to be okay. Great even.”

She puts on a smile, but while it’s clearly forced, she shakes out her hands before folding them over her chest and nodding, a little tension of her own dissipating as we walk to the exam room.

And I take it as a win.

After a quick introduction, Amelia’s directed to the bed, while I hover awkwardly by the door, unsure of my place.

“You don’t have to stand over there, Dad. Come on in. I’ll grab you a seat.”

Dad.Dad? Jesus. Saying it myself is one thing, but hearing it out of a stranger's mouth is an entirely different ballgame…and I prefer football.

The woman, who I think is named Jill—I can’t remember because I was too busy assessing the equipment—moves a seat next to Amelia’s head and gestures for me to sit.

I rush out a thanks as I do as I’m asked, then meet Amelia’s gaze, her wide eyes doing nothing to hide her feelings. This is weird. We both know it. There’s no other way to put it. I’m in a clinic, with Amelia, waiting to see our baby.

What the hell is this life?

“Okay, shall we begin?”

Amelia and Jill chat about timing and how she’s feeling while I smile and nod. I’m certain I’m paying attention but the next thing I know, Amelia’s tee is tucked under her bra and the waistband of her pants is being rolled down. I avert my gaze, because this part is personal, but when Jill laughs, I find myself glancing back to see why.

“You’re going to want to focus this way,” she says with a mocking tone, like she’s speaking to a child. “I promise it’s not scary. Just watch the screen if the rest of itconcernsyou.”

“Concerns me?” The way she says “concerns” makes it sound like the sight of Amelia’s stomach disgusts me. And that’s not it. At all. I’m respecting her goddamn privacy. “I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

She smiles before squirting thick jelly-like stuff onto Amelia’s still-flat stomach, making her hiss. “Sorry, it’s a little cold. I promise you’ll forget all about that in a second.”

“It’s fine. I just didn’t know what to expect.”

“Are you ready?”

Amelia rushes out a yes, while my head screamsno. This is something Ineverthought I’d be ready for. But I can’t exactly say that out loud.

I’m still as she lowers the rod excruciatingly slowly toward the gel, my heart pounding so hard I’m surprised no one can hear it. I feel everything in those seconds—not just my rapid heart but also the blood pulsing through my veins, the buzz of the lights ringing in my ears, the energy surrounding me—yet my eyes don’t move from Amelia’s stomach, watching as Jill swirls the rod around, spreading the gel where she needs it.

I’m completely mesmerized until a new sound permeates the air, and my eyes flash to the screen. “What’s that? Is that bad?” I ask, my chest so tight, I’m terrified of having a heart attack.

Jill laughs, but Amelia appears just as shell-shocked as I am. “That’s the heartbeat,” Jill says casually. “I thought I’d start with that since you’re both new to this.”

“The heartbeat?” I turn to Amelia at the same time she gapes my way, a sheen of water coating her eyes as mine tingle. “That’s—”

“Our baby,” she finishes for me, her voice so choked with emotion it cracks.

“I love this part of my job,” Jill interrupts. “Ready for more?”

All eyes move back to the screen as Jill talks us through what we’re seeing, and I stare in awe, my voice trapped in my throat.

Amelia and Jill continue to chat throughout the appointment, but I don’t say a word because nothing feels right. There’s nothing in my head big enough for this moment.

When she’s done, Jill wipes Amelia’s stomach and smiles. “Congratulations, Mom and Dad, you have a healthy—and I’m going to say happy—baby. Would you like a photo?”

“Yes, thank you,” Amelia says, while I remain silent.

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