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Curveball (For the Love of the Game #3)

Page 6

by Nadine Hudson


  Quinn’s strained, but gentle voice ripped me from my panicked thoughts as she sniffled out her words, “The home test isn’t a guarantee. It could be a false positive.” The forced hope in her tone was obvious and it caused my heart to ache. I hate that I have put her in this situation. She was clearly terrified and I didn’t know what to do to help her. “I made an appointment with an OBGYN for tomorrow. After that, we’ll know for sure,” she continued, sitting herself up and standing from my lap. She was trying to be brave. Strong. And she was. I know she didn’t always see it herself, but I did. I’ve always known how strong she was. But she didn’t have to be strong by herself. As terrified as I was, it didn’t matter. In that moment, she needed me to be strong with her.

  “Quinn,” I murmured quietly as I stood and pulled her against me, “I know you're scared, but please don’t be scared, baby. I’m here for you no matter what happens. We will get through this together. Don’t think for a second that I would leave you alone in this.”

  Six

  Quinn

  Monday

  I don’t know if it was nerves or the cold air blowing through the deathly silent waiting room, but I could feel my body shivering in response. I glanced around the room at the other people patiently waiting. One woman was excitedly nestled into the crook of her partner's side. Clearly they had been trying to get pregnant and were happy to be here. Another woman who sat only two seats down from me seemed to be attending her appointment alone. She gently stroked her large firm belly in a naturally nurturing way as she flicked through a magazine. A small grin pulled at my lips at the thought of how fulfilled and content both women seemed.

  And then there was me. A complete damn mess. My stomach was a knot of nerves and the only thing that kept me together was the tiniest sliver of hope that the home pregnancy test was wrong. I wasn’t ready to be a mom. At nineteen years old, who is?! Not to mention, I have exactly zero ideas on how to be a good mom. Especially with the Devil Woman as my only point of reference.

  It’s been over a month since the argument I had with her and my dad and I haven’t heard from either of them since. A fact that has had me constantly on edge. I know they are lying and waiting for the perfect time to strike. That’s just the way they operate. Careful. Calculated. Ruthless. There’s no way they were going to just let the fact that I blatantly disobeyed them go without any consequences. So as if the possibility of being pregnant wasn’t enough to overwhelm me, I also had to worry about when and where they would retaliate. Just then, the mere thought of turning out like my mother caused a shiver to run up my spine and I felt Tucker’s arm immediately wrap around me.

  “Hey, you alright? Are you cold?”

  Before I could even answer he was unzipping his hoodie and draping it around my shoulders. He has been treating me like a piece of fine antique china lately. It was sweet and endearing. I’ve never been doted on like this before. His small act of chivalry made me want to burst into tears, but I immediately swiped them away before they could fall and embarrass me for crying over something so stupid. Damn hormones.

  “First trimester?” The large bellied woman sitting next to me asked, startling me. I nodded in confirmation and offered a slight smile to be polite. I wasn’t sure what else to do or say since I was secretly hoping I wasn’t pregnant at all. I felt Tucker’s hold on me tighten in an expression of supportive reassurance that he was still there.

  “Me too,” she admitted with a large smile rubbing her belly once again. I felt my eyes grow larger at her words and my mouth fell open. Her belly seemed huge. I would have guessed that she was almost ready to deliver. Certainly not her first trimester. The realization scared the life out of me and she must’ve noticed because she giggled and continued, “Don’t worry. I’m almost at my second trimester and every pregnancy is different. You may not even start showing until your second trimester.”

  I released a breath of relief and I thought I felt Tucker release one as well. Yeah, I’m not ready for this at all. Before I could say anything else, a man with light brown hair walked into the waiting room wearing green scrubs and called out, “Quinn?” before looking around the room. I glanced to Tucker then we both stood together and followed the man through the door and back a small hallway. There were pictures of new born babies and mothers holding them lining the walls of the hallway.

  The images made me smile as the thought of mine and Tucker’s family portrait hanging on these walls crossed my mind. A thought that I immediately batted away. I can’t have a baby right now. I’m the epitome of a hot mess! I am in no position to have a baby. I have to finish school. Tucker is in no position to have a baby. I know how important baseball is to him. I would never forgive myself if I anchored him here with a baby!

  “Before I get you in a room, I’m going to get your weight, blood pressure, and I’m going to need to take some blood for your test,” the nurse announced as he guided us into a small nook with a chair and a scale. He did as he said and took some blood, checked my blood pressure and then my weight before waving an arm directing us further down the hallway. “I’m also gonna need a sample,” he stated matter-of-factly, handing me a small plastic cup and marking something on his clipboard. “You can dispense your sample through the small door and we’ll wait for you out here,” he instructed with a smile.

  Direct, isn’t he? I felt embarrassment creep up my neck and steal over my cheeks. I don’t know why the thought of peeing in a cup embarrassed me, but everything about this place seemed to make me feel uncomfortable and on edge. Or maybe it was the nerves. After doing what he’d asked, I opened the door to find both he and Tucker waiting in the hallway for me. Tucker appeared tense, with both arms folded tightly over his chest, a serious expression covered his face. The nurse smiled excitedly as he directed us to our room. Once inside and seated the nurse asked a few more questions then let us know that the doctor would be in to see us shortly.

  The next few minutes crept by like hours and it felt like we had been sitting there in silence for an eternity, the anticipation keeping us both on the edge of our seats, before a salt and pepper haired man in a long white coat came into the room holding a chart.

  “Quinn Matthews,” he read off his chart before looking up at us and taking a seat on a small wheeled stool. “I’m Dr. Abramovitz. How are you feeling today?”

  “Fine,” I gulped, my throat dry. I rubbed my clammy hands up and down my thighs.

  “I understand you’re here for a pregnancy test, is that correct?” he asked, glancing back and forth between Tucker and I. I nodded my response.

  “Well, typically it can take a few days to get the results of the blood test, but if you want to know today we can do an ultrasound?” he offered.

  Tucker and I looked at each other and both nodded in agreement simultaneously. This couldn’t wait. We needed to know.

  “Okay, go ahead and lie back and roll up your shirt please,” he directed as he wheeled himself to the other side of the room and pulled different tools and supplies from a drawer. Tucker rose from his seat and stood next to the exam table that Dr. Abramovitz had me laying on. He gripped my hand and raised it to his lips, leaving reassuring kisses along my knuckles as he watched the doctor prep the instruments.

  Dr. Abramovitz rolled toward us and I lifted my shirt up my torso taking in a deep breath.

  “Okay, Quinn. This is gonna be a little cold so bear with me,” he warned, squirting a cold green gel on my belly. With his other hand he slid the doppler back and forth over my stomach, spreading the gel around. As he moved it in circles he would periodically stop and tap on the buttons of his keyboard then move it some more. His attention was focused on the screen that displayed grayscale shapes and forms as he moved the tool across my stomach.

  The black and white images that flashed on the screen beside the bed were foreign to me, but it didn’t stop my eyes from being glued to them. Searching them for a sign. Anything. I felt like all of my senses were on high alert. Desperate. I could hear s
ounds like we were listening to the ocean from beneath the surface. Every once in a while a new sound would break through the white noise in a rhythmic way.

  I felt Tucker’s grip on my hand tighten when Dr. Abramovitz finally turned his attention back to us.

  “You hear that?” he asked and we both held our breaths, eyeing him expectantly, our ears perked. He seemed to hone in on the rhythmic noise and we were able to hear it loud and clear. “That’s your heartbeat, Quinn. And this…” He turned the doppler sideways and pressed harder into my belly until a similar noise started playing except in a much faster rhythm. “This is your baby’s heartbeat. And that,” he turned the screen to give us a better view, freezing it on a small bumpy figure, “...is your baby. Congratulations. You’re pregnant.”

  Tears filled my eyes quicker than I could expel them and they began overflowing down my cheeks. Tucker held tightly to my hand, but stood and pressed a firm kiss to my forehead. In that moment a million and one thoughts rushed into my head, but they were all drowned out by a sudden, overwhelming feeling of fulfillment that washed over me at the sound of the tiny, rapid heartbeat.

  I stared in amazement at the screen. That is my baby. Our baby. We created a life together. That life.

  The small bumpy figure that filled the screen was a perfect combination of Tucker and I. Of what our love created. I rested my head on the pillow beneath me and took in the image on the screen. I could feel a small smile begin to tug at the corners of my mouth.

  “No matter what happens, baby, I won’t let you go through this alone,” Tucker murmured against my head.

  “I’ll give you two a few minutes and then I’ll come back with some information for you,” Dr. Abramovitz stated before rising from his stool and leaving the room.

  The room grew quiet for a few minutes before Tucker’s voice broke the silence. “Baby,” he started cautiously, but I didn’t want to peel my eyes from the screen. This was our baby. “Hey,” he said again, this time taking my chin and turning my attention to him. “Please say something, baby. What are you thinking? How are you feeling?”

  What am I thinking? I tried to formulate the words to express myself, but there weren’t any.

  “I don’t know, Tucker. I mean… at first I was terrified. I was sure I wasn’t ready for this. That we weren’t ready for this, but now…” I turned to face the screen again and the small smile returned, “I don’t feel scared at all. I feel… excited? Hopeful, I guess.” I felt his hand rest on my head as he started pushing back the loose strands around my face.

  “Quinn,” his voice was steady and serious and it drew my attention away from our baby on the screen. “I’m in this with you. One hundred fifty percent. All the way. But I need to know… do you want to keep the baby?”

  Tears built in my eyes as I stared back into those deep hunter greens. I could feel his concern, his support, his love for me pouring out of him. And the alternative to keeping the baby, didn’t even feel like an option anymore. There was nothing I wanted more in that moment then to build a life, a family, with Tucker Monroe. I smiled at him, nodded my answer with tear filled eyes and I watched my new found excitement be reflected in his as he kissed me hard and deep.

  “That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” he whispered against my lips as he started to pull away and I immediately felt a sense of relief that I haven’t felt in weeks. Like the weight of one thousand worlds had been lifted off of my shoulders in an instant.

  Seven

  Tucker

  Tuesday

  I ripped a piece of crust off the stromboli and dipped it in the large styrofoam bowl of marinara sauce sitting in front of me before popping it into my mouth.

  “So just one home game left then the big tournament, huh son?” My dad asked, stretching his arms over his head.

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “You coming?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know that,” he smiled then took a large bite of stromboli. “Tell Quinn to save me a seat?”

  I laughed and nodded again. “You know it.”

  Quinn and Raegan have been smuggling my dad into the student section at the home games. He says he has a better view and it makes him feel young again. I can’t imagine he blends in very well with his salt and pepper hair and the prominent worry wrinkles that reside in the corners of his eyes from the years of sitting by my mothers bed as the cancer stole her from him one day at a time.

  Though I was really young when she died, my dad has always shared pictures and stories with me. He always looked so happy in them. Not that he wasn’t happy now, but there was definitely a light missing from his eyes, from his smile. But when I see him at my games and with Quinn, it's like the light returns for a little bit. The idea of Quinn and my dad cheering me on from the stands together makes me smile.

  “Have you given any more thought to Seattle?”

  My dad’s question brings my peaceful mood to a screeching halt. I’ve been struggling with this decision for weeks now. It was my dream to one day play in the Majors and going to Seattle would be the logical next step in achieving that dream. But the thought of leaving Quinn behind cuts me like a knife straight to my chest. I couldn’t imagine not being with her and I promised her I would be there through this pregnancy every step of the way. But I couldn’t ask her to give up college to come with me, either. No, that wouldn’t be fair to her.

  “Some. I’m still not sure though,” I admitted, trying and failing to hide the struggle I’ve been dealing with.

  “Well what is there really to debate, bud? I mean it’s your dream, isn’t it? Isn’t that why you’ve taken extra credits since you were a freshman? Why you spent every spare minute you’ve had either at the ballpark or the batting cages since you were seven? Isn’t this what you’ve been working so hard for?”

  I shoved a large final bite of stromboli into my mouth to give myself time to come up with a response to his question. I chewed slowly and carefully as I thought and felt his eyes locked on me the entire time. I finally swallowed and nodded my agreement.

  “It is, Dad. It’s just… things have changed. They’ve become… complicated.”

  “Complicated, huh? Does this complication have anything to do with a certain girl?” He smiled at me and shot me a knowing look.

  He wasn’t wrong. My feelings for Quinn alone had already been enough to make me question moving across the country, but now she has a baby growing inside of her. My baby. This has quickly become so much more than some college romance. We’ve decided to have a future together. Now we just needed to figure out what that future was going to look like. And there was no way I was going to be able to figure it out on my own.

  “Actually, it does. And actually, there’s something else I need to tell you, Dad.” I looked up at him and he was staring back at me, concern building in his expression. I really wasn’t sure how he was going to take the news. We have always been very close and I’ve never tried to keep anything from him. I’ve never had to. So all I could do was hope that he would stay as supportive as he’s been my whole life.

  I blew out a nervous breath and ran a hand over my hair, then asked, “How do you feel about becoming a grandfather?”

  His expression suddenly changed. His eyes grew wide and the shock was apparent. This is not what he was expecting me to say. I waited for him to say something. Do something. Anything. But his face remained frozen. My heart began to pound in my chest and the silence that grew between us was tortuous. Say something! I dipped my head, gesturing to him to react and then suddenly I saw the tears start to shake in his eyes and the corners of his mouth lifted.

  “You’re gonna be a Dad, Tuck?” he whispered quietly as his lip began to tremble. I’ve always known my dad was a pretty sensitive guy, but I’ve only ever seen him cry a handful of times—usually when reminiscing about my mom. So seeing his reaction caused a lump to form in my throat and I was suddenly struggling to choke back tears of my own.

  I nodded my response and managed to ge
t out, “Yeah, Dad. Quinn’s pregnant. We just found out yesterday.” In an instant he was out of his seat and stretching his arms open for me. I stood too and leaned into his embrace as he patted his hand flat and hard against my back making a slapping noise.

  “Congratulations, Tucker. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I murmured against his shoulder before pulling away from his grip. “I’m just not really sure where to go from here,” I admitted cautiously.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, obviously I’d love to go to Seattle, but I can’t leave Quinn to go through this alone. And I’d ask her to come with me, but I don’t want her to have to give up school. That’s not fair to her either. I just don’t know what the best thing to do is.”

  I laid my problems at his feet like I had done so many times before and waited patiently for his words of wisdom to come and help me sort them out. He nodded in understanding as he started to take in the complexities of my situation. I stared back at him as his mouth twisted and contorted as he thought.

  “Well, Tuck, I know you were too young to remember any of this, but one thing your mother and I did very well was communicate.” I watched his dark green eyes pale at the mention of my mother. “If you’re planning to have a family and build a life with this girl, you’re gonna have to learn to talk to each other. Have you asked her if she would want to go to Seattle with you? Just because you think she should finish school doesn’t mean that, that’s what she wants.”

  He made a good point. It wasn’t a topic that Quinn and I had broached yet. Then again, we were still in shock about becoming parents. We didn’t have time to process anything else. But my dad was right. I should be talking to her about it. Giving her options, figuring out what she wants. I let his words sink in before he spoke again.

  “Regardless of where you end up or what you end up doing, just take care of her, Tucker. A good woman is one of the most precious gifts you’ll ever receive in this life. She will challenge you and push you in the most beautiful and frustrating of ways and she’ll somehow make you a better man in the end. Don’t ever take her for granted, son.”

 

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