I glance down. “How could it be? How can this not be some twisted cosmic joke?”
“Babies have a magical way of making your other problems disappear. Don’t take this the wrong way. Having Aaron didn’t make it okay that Erin died, and the sorrow of what happened to Kasey will never truly leave you, but someday, when you least expect it, this little one will smile or laugh or babble a word that will remind you of your sister. You’ll realize it’s a good memory, not a bad one. Life sometimes comes from death. I honor my friend, Erin, every day by loving my son. While this child will in no way replace the void in your life or the hole in your heart, he or she might make it smaller.”
I wipe away a tear. “It’s so nice to talk to someone. I’d never be able to talk to my mother about this.”
She squeezes my hand. “You can talk to me anytime. I’m only a phone call away.”
“Thank you for being so understanding and not hating me.”
“How could I ever hate the woman my son loves? Not to mention the mother of my grandbaby. I’m not afraid to tell you that Griffin and I will spoil the hell out of him or her.” She pauses. “Will you find out if it’s a boy or girl?”
“Tomorrow, actually.”
“Come on.” She pulls me in the direction of the lodge. “I’ll tell you about the day we found out Aaron was a boy.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re back at the lodge. Skylar gazes at a large arrangement of flowers in the grand foyer, then pulls two from the bouquet. She extends her arms, holding a rose in one hand and a lily in the other. “Pick one.”
I go for the lily. It was the first flower Aaron ever bought me. Actually, they are the only flowers he ever buys me.
Skylar smiles. She smiles big.
“What?” I ask. “Is this supposed to mean something?”
“Go look it up,” she says and walks away humming.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Aaron
“Are you nervous?” I ask on the way into the doctor’s office.
“Stupid question, Aaron. Yes, I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s this thing growing inside me that you think I’m going to immediately fall in love with when I see it on the computer screen, but I won’t and then you’ll be disappointed and have to ask yourself what kind of woman isn’t happy about having a baby and if I’m who you want to be with if I can’t get on board with it.”
“Wow. You’ve really thought about this a lot. I was thinking you’d be nervous to see if the kid has the appropriate number of limbs and stuff.”
We check in and take a seat. I pick up a parenting magazine and flip through it.
“Your mom thinks it’s a boy,” she whispers in the crowded room.
“She does?”
“Something about flowers and an old wives’ tale.”
“I still can’t believe you told her.”
“I didn’t tell her, she guessed.”
“Yeah, but you could have denied it.”
She laughs quietly. “I get the feeling your mom isn’t easily denied.”
“She does have that way about her.”
“She was so understanding about everything.”
“Everything?”
“I told her about Kasey. Jail. All of it.”
I close the magazine and stare at her in utter surprise. “You did?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m happy you felt comfortable enough with her to share your story. How did she take it?”
“She talked about Erin and not wanting a child. It’s nothing you hadn’t told me before, but it was different coming from her.”
“You’re bonding over the whole ‘I don’t want a baby’ thing.”
She leans back. “It’s not that I don’t want a baby, Aaron. It’s that I question my ability to be a good mother.”
I put my arm around her. “I don’t question it at all. I see the way you are with the horses. You’re patient and gentle and kind.”
“They’re horses. It’s different.”
“I don’t think it is. You’re a nurturer. You have been your whole life.”
“Dunlop,” a lady calls from the doorway.
I lean over. “She could be calling Pearce. Just sayin’.”
Devyn rolls her eyes and stands. “Can he come?” she asks.
“Is he the father?”
“Yes.”
Father. It’s the first time I’ve heard it said out loud. For almost two months, I’ve thought it. I’ve dreamed about it. Setting up a swing set behind the cabin and pushing my little boy as he squeals, “Higher, Daddy!” Teaching my little girl how to ride a horse. I can hear a sweet voice in my head: “Giddyup, horsey.” A father is never something I thought I’d be at twenty-three, but now I can’t imagine any other scenario. I follow Devyn through the door—I definitely can’t imagine a scenario without her.
I stand aside while they take her weight and blood pressure, then we’re led to a room. “No need to undress,” the woman says. “You can lie down here.” She hands Devyn a blue paper sheet. “Unbutton your pants and tuck this in the waistband so you won’t get any gel on your clothes. The ultrasound tech will be in shortly.”
I pace the room while we wait. Maybe I’m nervous after all. I look at all the tech equipment. I see something and laugh. I pick up a steel dildo on a cord. “What the hell is this?”
She giggles as I examine it. “They used that for the first ultrasound. The baby was too small to see any other way.”
“This was inside you?”
“Not this one, but one like it.”
I shift my stance. “I gotta say, I’m turned on a little thinking about it.”
“You’re terrible.”
“I’m sorry if the thought of my girl using a dildo makes me hard.”
She glances at my crotch. “You can’t be serious.”
I shrug. “A little bit.”
She blushes. “Aaron, think of something else.”
“You’re lying down, pants unbuttoned, shirt pulled up. Fat chance.”
There’s a knock on the door and someone opens it. “Oh, shit.” I quickly pull over a chair and sit down next to Devyn. She’s trying not to laugh.
“Hello,” the tech says. “You must be Mr. and Mrs.—” She glances at the chart.
“Not Mr. and Mrs.,” I say. I take Devyn’s hand. “Not yet anyway.”
“Let’s get started,” she says, holding up a bottle of gel. “This might be a bit cold.” She squirts it on Devyn’s lower tummy and then puts a flat wand on it, moving it around and doing things on her keyboard at the same time.
“What exactly are you looking for?” I ask.
“I’m examining all the organs and taking measurements.”
“Does everything seem okay?”
“So far, so good. No visible heart defects. Looks to be around twelve centimeters. That’s about the size of an—”