Once home, with way more strength than I’m feeling right now, I push open the door and step inside. Sylvia and Meredith glance up at me from the couch. My eyes only care for Sylvia; she’s pale and her eyes are wide with fear.
“Thanks for helping me out, Meredith,” I force myself to say.
“No problem.” She hugs Sylvia. “It’ll be okay,” I hear her whisper.
I wish she didn’t know yet, only because Sylvia and I haven’t talked about it. But I am glad that she was here for us both today. I walk Meredith to the door, thanking her again, and then a few seconds later, I take a seat next to my wife.
“I stopped by the doctor’s office—”
“Did they tell you? Did they tell you that they think I’m pregnant?” I nod. “You told them, right? You told them that they’re crazy? I mean, something must be wrong with them because it’s not possible, Scott.” I take her cold, trembling hands in my own, grasping them tightly as her voice grows with hysteria.
“Something else is wrong with me. That can’t be it. They told us it was impossible. That means it would never happen. I can’t be pregnant. I can’t be. No. We accepted that. They can’t change it on us now. I can’t lose a baby, Scott.” Her eyes well with tears that are so fat and full, they spill over immediately. “I can’t do it. Not after so many failed attempts already. Tell them they’re wrong. Tell them to find some other explanation. Something’s wrong with that machine too. There can’t be a baby in here.”
“Sylvie,” I begin softly, but she starts shaking her head.
“You can’t believe them, Scott. Oh, god. I heard the heartbeat.” Her breathing picks up and I know I’m losing her to the panic. “How is that even possible? It can’t be. It just can’t be.”
I pull her into my arms and run my hands up and down her back. “It’s going to be fine. Deep breaths. Long, deep breaths. You’re probably freaking the kid out.”
“It’s not funny!”
I cup her face. “No, it’s not. It’s scary as fuck, but we’re not runners, Sylvia. We take the challenge. You’re pregnant. By some miracle or whatever the hell you want to call it, you’re pregnant. If that fear wasn’t overwhelming you, you’d be able to feel how elated you are. Let’s take it day by day, okay? We’re going to be cautiously optimistic and we’re going to allow ourselves to be happy, because I’ll be damned if you’re going to let this fear ruin the one thing you’ve always wanted to experience. You hear me?”
“What if—”
“No,” I interrupt. “I know exactly what those what ifs are and fucking no, Sylvia. Day by day and being happy means no what ifs. Get rid of those right fucking now. I mean it. If something happens, we’ll adjust and deal with it like we always do, but we’re not going to think about it beforehand. We’re going to be in Happyville, not Worrytown.”
That finally gets me half of a smile, but only for half of a second. “Tell me it’s going to be okay.”
“I promise you, we’ll be okay.”
Her arms sling around my waist and I wrap mine around her shoulders, holding her tight, letting her draw on my sudden strength.
I hope our baby survives this.
“So, if all goes well, you and Lizzy will be giving birth within a few weeks of each other, right?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbles into my neck. “All I heard was that I’m pregnant and then a heartbeat. I couldn’t process anything else.”
“You’re eleven weeks along. She said everything looked good so far.”
“Lizzy is twelve weeks,” is all she says. She puts a hand on my chest and uses it to push herself up a little. “Do you feel like an absolute idiot for not seeing the signs? I mean, the weight gain, my boobs have been a bit tender, the vomiting, the fatigue. Shouldn’t we have wondered that what if?”
“After ten years of fucking and you not getting pregnant? No, I don’t feel like an idiot for not seeing the signs. Maybe I should, but I don’t. I was stunned when the doctor told me and didn’t believe her at first.”
Sylvia glances down at her stomach. She hesitates before placing a hand over her belly. “I’m terrified, Scott. I’m scared to be happy. To start loving this baby. To believe that this is even real. I mean, I’ve wanted another child, but I’ve been too scared to change things. And now, I’m pregnant? It’s just...”
“Let’s not worry until we have to, Sylvie.” I pull her back against me. “We’ll be okay.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that the baby will be okay, but I’ve never made a promise that I wasn’t sure if I would be able to keep. I don’t want to say those words and then something happen. But I can promise her that we will be okay. One way or another, we’ll make it through whatever happens. “I love you.”
“I love you. I’m sorry about the divorce threats earlier this week.”
I laugh. “It’s okay.”
“I’m glad you’re going to be here for a few days. I need to recover.”
“Do you want the girls to stay with my parents tonight?”
“No. They probably know something is up, and I don’t want to worry them. Can we not tell anyone yet? Maybe wait a little bit longer and go to a few more appointments? Just in case?”
“Whatever you want.” I don’t mind that plan, actually. Cautiously optimistic doesn’t necessarily mean blasting to everyone we know that the impossible has happened.
“We should go get the girls.”
“Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll go get them? It’s been a long day. You rest.”
She nods, so I kiss her forehead and then leave. Now, I have to evade questions of “What’s wrong with Sylvia?” from my parents and “Why are you home?” from the girls. Well, I’ll need to come up with an answer for the girls. The ride isn’t terribly long. Sure enough, my mom answers the door and the first thing she says is, “Is everything okay with Sylvia?”
“She’s fine, Mom,” I answer as I step into the house.
“Well, what happened?”
“Nothing.”
She raises one brow at me. “Nothing? You left a game for nothing?”
“Leave it alone. Now is not the time to discuss it.”
She nods. “Stella! Stephanie! Your father is here!”
A heartbeat later, the girls come running toward the door with their things. “Daddy! What are you doing here?” Stella asks.
“Don’t you have an away game?” Stephanie adds.
“Your mom got sick, so I had to come home. Do you have everything?” They nod. “Let’s go then. Thanks, Mom.”
Once we’re in the car, Stella asks, “Is Momma okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine now. Let’s be on our best behavior tonight, okay? No fighting, no being loud, no annoying each other. Think you can do that for your momma?”
“Yes,” they say simultaneously.
“Good. We’ll bake cookies tomorrow then.”
The rest of the ride is unusually quiet. When we get home, the girls rush to where Sylvia is still sitting on the couch and give her a hug. That causes her to burst into tears as they curl into her sides, asking if she’s feeling any better. I leave them alone to start on dinner.
I’m about halfway done when my phone vibrates with a call from Lizzy.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Is everything okay? I heard you weren’t with the team due to a family emergency. What happened?”
“We’re all good here, Lizzy.”
“But—”
“Do you trust me?” I interrupt.
“Well, yeah,” she replies with a silent obviously.
“Then, trust me when I say we’re fine.”
She’s quiet for about a minute, no doubt debating whether or not she wants to argue with me while remembering how many times I didn’t push her. She’s probably remembering when I did push her too. “Okay,” she finally says. “But y’all know I’m here for you, right? I mean, you two have done so much for me over the years and I’m always ready to return to favor. I’d do anything for y’a
ll. Just say the word.”
“Thanks, Lizzy. You’ll hear from Sylvia at some point.”
Now, see, if the situation was reversed, Sylvia would ask, “So something did happen?” But all Lizzy says is, “Okay. I’ll be ready.”
“You doing okay?” I’m tempted to ask her over for dinner, but Sylvia didn’t want Lizzy to pick her up from the doctor’s office and she’s still emotional, so I don’t think it’d be a good idea.
“Yeah, just taking a break from working on a cake. It’s SpongeBob-themed and I’m attempting to make a cake in the shape of a pineapple as well as a medium-size SpongeBob and Patrick. I also tested a new batter mixture and it’s ridiculously good. This is only one order. I still have two to do tomorrow.”
“Are you going to quit the bank?”
“Have you been talking to Marc?” she accuses, almost snapping at me. “I mean, if you two are finally fully getting along, then great, but what the hell? It’s a little creepy, Scott.”
I laugh. “I’m just wondering. I don’t want you overworking yourself.”
“I’m still figuring things out right now, so I don’t know what I’m doing yet. Until I know, I’ll going to do both.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon. I’ll let you go, so you can get back to work. If you need anything, you know we’re only a phone call away, too.”
“I know. Thanks, Scott.”
After saying our goodbyes, we hang up. She’s right that Marc and I finally get along. Well, better than we did when it comes to her. After my brother died, I had to look after her. She was pregnant and wasn’t exactly doing it herself. I’ve spent so many years looking after her, taking care of her when she needed me to, that it’s almost as second nature as taking care of Sylvia and my girls. Then Marc came along and got pissed as hell when I’d try to do just that. It’s been an adjustment to force myself to stop and let Marc do it instead. There’s been fewer and fewer instances where I feel the need to step in, though. That’s just a testament to how well Lizzy’s been doing.
“Have you been talking to yourself?” Sylvia asks as she comes into the kitchen.
“Mighta been.”
She smiles. “Almost ready?”
“Not almost; it is.” She starts grabbing plates to fill with food. “I was talking to Lizzy,” I add.
“Oh. What’d you tell her?”
“That everything was fine and you’d call her at some point. How’re you holding up?”
The smile she gives me nearly stops my heart. “Good. Stephanie and Stella were just who I needed.”
I fake a frown. “What about me?”
She laughs. That in combination with her smile tells me we’re going to be okay. She’s over the shock. She has a handle on the fear for now and we’re good. “I meant in addition to you. I always need you.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” I give her a soft kiss and then we’re back to focusing on getting the table set for dinner.
***
I wake to find Scott’s hand on my stomach. I open my eyes just in time to see him press a kiss there and hear him whisper, “I love you.” That’s all it takes to start my tears. He lifts his head and comes up to kiss me. “Don’t worry, I love you too.” That makes me smile. “There we go. That’s what I like to see. How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.” And terrified, but he knows this already.
Scott takes my hand and places it under his on my stomach. “Why didn’t you at least tell me you wanted another child?”
“Because you’d point out all the ways I was being a wimp and tell me to stop being a wuss. And I didn’t know what you’d want to do. Being quiet was easier.”
“Sylvie,” he whispers. “I wouldn’t call you a wimp or a wuss.”
“Thinking it is the same thing, Scott.”
He frowns, his eyes hardening just a bit. “Stop giving me a hard time, Sylvia. You know that I think you’re strong, but you do have an Achilles heel. Ain’t nothing wrong with that, and it makes you even stronger that you know you have it. You should’ve talked to me. I didn’t bring it up to you because the consequences would be far worse if you didn’t and the ball has always been in your court. Just...let’s stop being so scared, all right? You can talk to me about what you want. We don’t always have to take action immediately.”
I’m not so sure I believe that. Scott is a take-action kind of man when it comes to giving me what I want. I nod anyway. “Do you know what I want right now?”
“What’s that?”
“Breakfast.”
Scott smiles so brightly at that. “Yeah? French toast again? Bacon? Sausage? Fruit? Eggs?”
“Everything but the eggs.” I frown at the thought.
Scott gives me a quick kiss before getting out of bed. He seems thrilled at the thought of making me breakfast. I’m a little thrilled at the thought of wanting breakfast. I get up to take a quick shower. By the time I’m done, Scott and the girls are sitting at the table, waiting for me.
“Are you feeling better, Momma?” Stephanie asks.
“Yeah. Thanks for asking, sweetie. What do y’all want to do today?”
“Daddy said we could make cookies,” Stella says.
That’s how our day goes. Scott has to go to the practice facility for a bit, so we go to the grocery store since we need icing and are currently out. We spend time using cookie cutters to make something other than a round cookie, which has become almost unacceptable thanks to Lizzy. We play while they bake. We decorate them together.
The anxiety that I’ve been feeling so much of is oddly absent. Maybe it’s because I finally know what’s going on with me. That brings on a totally new wave of anxiety, but for the moment, I’m calm. One day at a time and all that bullshit. I’m reducing it even further to one second at a time. That’s about all I can handle.
I’ve been trying not to think about it, but that hasn’t worked out all that well either. So, I covertly look up stuff on my phone. Scott came home to see all we had been doing and insisted we take a break to watch TV.
I lean over and whisper quietly, “The baby is the size of a fig.” Thank goodness the girls are talking back and forth, so I don’t have to worry about them hearing me, even though I’m whispering. “Like anybody sees a fig on a regular basis to remember how big it is,” I add in a mutter.
Scott laughs. “What else?”
“He or she is one and a half inches long and is already moving around, but obviously, the baby is too little for us to feel it.”
There’s a tightening in my chest to be talking about the baby, but it’s the only way I can do it. If Scott doesn’t want me living in fear, then I have to talk about him or her. If I don’t, then I’m letting my fear win.
Scott leans over and kisses me so softly and so sweetly. “Proud of you, Sylvie.”
I roll my eyes. “Just following orders.” If he’s too nice and serious, I’ll start crying again.
He laughs and pulls at my leggings. “Maybe you should take Meredith and go shopping.”
“What? You’re trying to tell me what to wear now?” I know he isn’t; Scott doesn’t care what I wear, but I couldn’t resist saying it.
“Just trying to make sure you have something else to wear that fits is all. You could go today.”
“No. I’ll ask her to go one day next week before she goes into work.” I lean into his side, lifting his arm to lay it across my shoulders. “I want to stay with my favorite people today.”
My phone vibrates on the end table and Scott grabs it to hand it to me.
Lizzy: Are you okay? Like for real? Scott said you were, but then Marc told me he left because you went to the doctor and Scott didn’t tell me that, so now I’m worried all over again.
Me: I’m fine. Give me a few weeks to explain, please? I know I’m Queen Nosy, but I need some time first.
Lizzy: Of course. I’m glad you’re okay. Let’s do lunch next week, okay?
Me: Done.
“How can Lizzy
not be dying to know what’s going on? I mean, if it were me, I’d be at her house, banging on the door, demanding she tell me what happened.”
Scott laughs. “Because Lizzy knows how to be patient. You know no such thing.”
I glare at him, even though it’s true. The only area where I know patience is with Stella and Stephanie. “You know what kind of sucks?”
“What?”
“Even when I don’t like you, I still like you.”
Scott laughs and kisses me quickly. “That’s true love, Sylvie.”
“Daddy, play a game with us,” Stephanie says sweetly.
Stella has dragged out a board game and Scott rarely tells them no. Stella and Stephanie like to play as a team, so it’s them against Scott as he tries to guess who their two people are while they try to guess who his one person is. Scott pulls my feet into his lap and massages while he plays. I’m still very much worried about the pregnancy, but one thing is for sure: I have a fantastic husband and two great girls.
Scott’s right. One way or another, we’ll be okay.
“Help me!” Lizzy shouts when she straggles into the house Sunday shortly after Scott leaves for the arena for a preseason game. “I’m exhausted after doing a total of four cakes since Friday.” She rests the back of her hand on her forehead as if she’s faint and her dramatics cause the girls to giggle. “I declare we all go out for a spa day. Marco is paying!”
“Yes!” the twins shout.
“Go put your shoes on then while I try to whip your mom into shape.” She eyes my pajamas. Yes, it’s the afternoon and yes, I’m in my pajamas. It was a rough first half of the day. I have the sudden urge to tell her. Lizzy is my best friend, after all. I debate what to do as she grabs my shoulders and ushers me into my bedroom. “Are you okay with this? If you don’t want to go, I can take the girls. I figured it would be nice for us all to go.”
An Unexpected Life Page 6