by Holly Rayner
I nod. Though my throat still feels tight, I manage to speak. “I like the part about it not hurting,” I say.
The tech and Luca chuckle, and their laughter helps me relax. As the tech squeezes gel onto the probe, Luca reaches for my hand.
I squeeze his hand tight as the tech lifts my shirt up, exposing my belly, and then starts moving the wand around. Please, I pray silently. Please let the baby be healthy. Please.
I close my eyes and focus on the feel of Luca’s hand in mine. The feel of the ultrasound equipment sliding over my skin is strange, but the tech was right in that it doesn’t hurt.
After a few moments of sliding the wand around, and watching a screen on the portable ultrasound machine, she pauses her work. “Okay,” she says with a smile as she lifts the probe off of my stomach. “All done.”
She hands me a few tissues, and I wipe gel from my stomach.
“How did it look?” Luca asks.
I pull my shirt back down. The tech wipes off the end of the probe with some disinfectant. As she works, she says, “Is there any history of multiple births in either of your families?”
I look at Luca. He answers for us. “I’m one of triplets,” he says. “Why?”
The technician’s smile broadens. “Your ultrasound shows that you’re carrying quadruplets, Phoebe. Congratulations to the both of you.”
I feel my mouth drop open.
Luca’s eyes widen. “Quadruplets?” he repeats.
The tech nods. “That would explain the pain, as well. The doctors will likely order a few more tests, just to be sure, but from the looks of things so far that pain you experienced is an expected part of being pregnant with multiples.”
“Nothing’s wrong with me—or the… babies?” I ask.
The tech places her hand on her hip. “Your vitals are good. The ultrasound showed that the babies are healthy—they’re just making room for themselves in there, honey! What you felt could have been your womb stretching.”
Relief floods me, followed quickly by wonder.
My heart has been so full these last few days as I imagined holding my soon-to-be-born child in my arms.
Now I know that I’m going to have not just one infant to hold, but four!
Chapter 20
Luca
“Thank you,” I tell the doctor as I shake her hand. I release it and wrap my arm around Phoebe’s shoulder. “We’re really glad everything is okay.”
The doctor smiles. “More than okay,” she says.
“Four times more,” Phoebe says in a whisper.
The doctor looks down at her clipboard. “We’ll send everything over to your doctor at Philadelphia General, but for now you are fine to continue enjoying your time on the lake. In fact, I’m glad to hear that you’re on a mini-vacation. It’s good for you to avoid stress, Phoebe. I’d just recommend that you schedule a checkup with your OBGYN when you get back to the city. With multiples, it’s best to have more frequent monitoring. That way if complications do occur, you can catch them early. Okay?”
Phoebe seems to be lost in thought, so I answer for us. “We’ll do that, doctor. Thanks again for your help today.”
“My pleasure,” the doctor says. “And congratulations again!”
With that, Phoebe and I make our way out of the hospital and back to the rental car. Phoebe remains quiet. I am sure she’s still processing the news that we’re going to have quadruplets, just as I am.
Four babies.
Not one—four.
My head is still spinning from the news.
As I pull out of the hospital parking lot, I try to imagine what it will be like.
It’s hard to picture four crying infants, all wanting to be fed at the same time. My heart warms as I imagine what it will be like to see them all lined up in their little bassinets.
I smile and turn to Phoebe. She’s looking out the window at the scenery passing by. As I glance out of her window, I spot a sign advertising a diner.
I pump the brakes and turn into the lot just in time.
“We never got to eat lunch,” I say. “How about we stop for a bite?”
Phoebe agrees that it would be a good idea to eat something. We’ve both been reading in the pregnancy books about how important good nutrition is during the first trimester. Now that we know she’s carrying four babies, the need to get plenty of fuel is even more important.
The diner is small and has a big porch out front. On the porch, picnic tables are set up with red-and-white-checkered tablecloths and place settings. Now that we’re well into the afternoon, the sunlight streaming down through the trees has faded in intensity. The air has a definite chill to it, so we decide to sit inside.
We step into the diner’s cozy interior. Seeing as it’s neither lunch hour nor dinnertime, I’m not surprised that the place is almost empty. There are a few old men sitting at a countertop at the back of the room, nursing coffees and leafing through newspapers that lay splayed out before them.
A bored-looking hostess snaps her gum loudly as she shows us to a booth near the back of the room, to the left of the counter.
She places two plastic-covered menus down in front of us and says, “You can order from the lunch menu. The dinner stuff isn’t ready yet. Hope that’s okay with you.”
“That’s fine,” I say. I’m so hungry that anything hot and plentiful sounds good to me. I don’t care if it’s breakfast, lunch or dinner, as long as it’s food.
“Oh yum, they have BLTs,” Phoebe murmurs as she scans the menu.
“And Reubens,” I say, as I do the same. “No Philly cheesesteaks, though. I’ve been craving one, you know.”
“It’s no use getting a cheesesteak anywhere but Joe’s,” Phoebe tells me. “You’d only be asking for disappointment. Trust me.”
We continue chatting about the lunch options for a few more minutes. After a surprisingly long wait, given the lack of other customers in the place, a waitress with a pile of auburn curls on top of her head approaches our table.
“Sorry about the wait you two,” she says, as casually as though she knows us well. “I was trying to help Lou defrost the deep freezer. Being in that freezer is like being in the Antarctic—not that I’ve ever been, but you know what I mean. Anyways, you guys know what you want?”
I look to Phoebe and wait while she orders a BLT and a lemonade.
“Good choice, hon,” the waitress says. “Everyone in town loves our bacon. You should see this place fill up for Sunday morning brunch. We run a farmer’s platter special, you know. Eggs, hash browns, sausage, and plenty of bacon. The locals love it.”
She eyes Phoebe and then me. “You two aren’t from here, are you?” she asks.
I shake my head. “We’re visiting Keyhole Lake,” I say. “We rented a cabin there.”
“This time of year?” the waitress says. Then she shakes her head. “Oh, no. Honey, that lake’ll be like an ice bath until mid-June. It gets all the runoff from the mountains around here, all spring long. You’ll be lucky if it’s forty degrees in there.”
“We’re not planning on swimming,” Phoebe says as she hands over her menu.
“Just enjoying some peace and quiet,” I say.
“You’re from the city, then,” the waitress surmises. “Good for you for getting away from all the hubbub. I can’t stand traffic. All that honking. And the sirens! Oh my Lord, the sirens in the city drive me crazy. It goes on all night, too. I have a cousin who lives there. She tells me all about it.”
She waves a hand, as if dismissing Philadelphia, her cousin, and emergency service vehicles all at once. “I say ‘no thank you’ to that. It’s not for me. I’ll take the sound of the crickets and the birds over those noises any day. Now,” she faces me and readies her pen. “You know what you want, handsome?”
I nod and run my finger down the menu until I spot the Reuben. “I’ll have the six-inch Reuben with coleslaw on the side, and an iced tea.”
“You got it,” she says with a wink. “And I
won’t leave you two waiting, either. Like I said, that was just because Lou needed my help. I told him though, I’m a waitress, not your kitchen assistant. You want help in the kitchen, you have to hire help. I’m paid to take food out to tables.” She laughs. “Not that I’m paid much, but what are you going to do? Anyways, I’m going to get your food right out to you, so that you two lovebirds can get back to your cabin and enjoy some rest and relaxation.”
She departs, leaving Phoebe and me to some much-needed privacy. Phoebe’s hand is resting on the tabletop. I reach for it.
“She was chatty, wasn’t she?” I say.
“Mm,” Phoebe murmurs.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “You’ve been so quiet.” I rub my thumb across the back of her hand.
“I’m okay,” she says. Instead of looking into my eyes, like she so often does, she focuses her gaze on the table. “Quadruplets, Luca. It’s hard to believe.”
“I guess having multiples runs in the family,” I say. I grin. “I’ve been trying to imagine what it will be like, to see them all lined up in their little bassinets. It’s going to be an amazing sight.”
Now she looks up at me and meets my eye. “Was I in your daydream?” she asks.
“What do you mean?” I say.
“When you imagined the babies in their bassinets, was I there, too?”
I squeeze her hand. “I guess I didn’t think about that,” I say. “I was really just trying to imagine the babies. But I’m sure we were there together, looking down at them—probably trying to decide which one of us was on diaper duty.”
I laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but Phoebe doesn’t laugh with me. Instead, she looks up and finally meets my gaze. Her expression is a picture of sorrow.
“I might not be there,” she says. “There’s a very real chance I’ll be in prison, Luca. I think we have to talk about that possibility.”
My smile fades.
Phoebe continues. “I’m six weeks pregnant, yet I can’t enjoy it. Not fully. Not with this trial hanging over my head.”
Just then, our waitress appears. She smiles brightly as she sets two tall plastic cups brimming with ice water down on the table. She reaches into her apron and pulls out two straws.
“Water for the lovebirds!” she sing-songs. “And I didn’t forget about your other drinks, either. Lemonade for the lady, and tea for Mr. Handsome over here.” She gives me a wink.
When she departs again, I open a straw and stick it into Phoebe’s drink. “I don’t want you to worry,” I say as I inch the drink closer to her. “The doctor said you should avoid stress. Here, have some water.”
She lifts the glass and takes a sip. “I’ve been trying not to worry,” she says, setting the glass down. “I’ve really been doing my best. Being with you helps.” She gives me a faint smile. “You’re a great distraction,” she admits, but her frown quickly returns.
“But really, what are we going to do if I go to jail? They’re going to set my trial date soon, then I’ll have to go to court. After that, who knows? It will be up to a jury to decide my fate, and I hate that. It’s out of our control, Luca.”
“It’s not,” I say, shaking my head. “Marla is an excellent attorney. She’s going to do everything she can to prove your innocence. This isn’t about luck or chance, Phoebe, this is about justice. You’re innocent, and Marla has to use her skills to prove that.”
“But what if she can’t?” Phoebe says. “The evidence is going to be shocking. Marla’s told me some of what she’s uncovered. Derek had access to all of my work accounts—I didn’t clean my desktop computer at the office before I left—and who knows what else. He might have even found a way to get into my personal accounts. I use the same password for everything. I never thought I’d have a reason to worry about it, but now…” Her voice fades, and she places her head in her hands.
“I just know it’s not going to look good,” she says solemnly. “And if the jury is fooled by that, there’s nothing Marla or anyone else can do to keep me out of prison.”
Seeing how distraught she is, I slide out of my side of the booth and relocate to hers, wrapping my arm around her.
“It’s a lot to handle,” I say gently.
She lifts her head from her hands and turns to face me.
“Can you promise me something?” she asks.
“Anything,” I say.
“Promise me that if I go to prison, you’ll take care of our babies. I’ve known of so many men who just walk out and leave.”
“I would never walk away,” I say as I rub my hand up and down her arm and look deeply into her eyes. “Never,” I promise.
She swallows. “And one more thing, too. If I go away, can you make sure Nikki and Andy have what they need?”
“I’ll make sure that they have all that they need and more,” I say. “I give you my word.”
She rests her head on my chest and returns my hug. “Thank you, Luca,” she says.
At that moment, the waitress arrives with our food and drinks. I thank her and then move back over to my side of the booth.
“Feeling better?” I ask Phoebe as I watch her lift her sandwich with two hands.
She eyes it hungrily, nods, and smiles for the first time in hours. “I am,” she says. “In more ways than one.”
“I’m glad,” I say. “I would do anything to see you smile, Phoebe.”
I mean it, too. This woman is the love of my life, and her smile means the world to me.
She’s right that we can’t control the results of the trial, but there are so many other things that we can control. And I know that I will do everything in my power to make Phoebe happy and keep her safe.
Chapter 21
Phoebe
The morning after my visit to the ER, I linger in bed with Luca. It’s so comfortable, so warm and soft in here. I don’t want to get up.
Luca is bare-chested next to me. He’s wearing a pair of sleeping shorts, but that’s it. I’m in a soft tee and shorts as well. Two quilts cover us, warding off the morning chill that enters through an open window.
I place my hand on Luca’s hard abs and run my hand along the muscles that I’ve come to know well. I kiss his shoulder and murmur, “I don’t want to get up.”
Luca reaches for me and pulls me gently on top of him. “Then let’s not,” he says as he smiles up at me.
I bend over him, my long hair forming a canopy around us as I kiss him, gently at first. My kisses grow hungrier as he pulls my body down against his.
Soon, I’m breathless. Luca’s strong hands explore my waist and abdomen, and his kisses grow more eager along with mine. My hands play with the waistband of his shorts, and I’m about to suggest that we stay in bed forever when I hear my phone buzz on the nightstand.
The sound surprises me. I turned my phone on after we went to the hospital the day before so that I could call Nikki and give her my news.
“Wow, I can’t believe we get service,” I say, reaching for my phone. “Must be a clear shot from a cell tower across the lake. Hey, it’s Nikki. I’d better talk to her.”
It surprises me that Nikki is calling me. She knows how much this time away with Luca means to me. We had the chance to talk for over an hour the day before, so what else could be on her mind?
Thoughts of Andy and his health bubble up in my consciousness. Did he have a doctor’s appointment today? Did Nikki get some news that’s worrying her?
Hoping that everything is okay, I disentangle myself from Luca and then reach for my phone.
“Just give me one minute,” I say to Luca, who is lying stretched out on his back, exposed to the chill now that I’m off of him. I hold up a finger. “One,” I say, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. Then I accept the call.
“Hello?” I say, as I straighten my top and stand up so that I’m out of bed.
“Phoebe!” Nikki says, sounding distraught. Then static fills the line, and I can’t catch what else she says.
I stride to the bedroom door and
emerge into the main area of the cabin. I hurry to the front door and step out into the morning. I don’t even care that I’m hardly dressed to be out in public. The cabins are deserted, and more importantly, I’m concerned about my sister.
“Nikki, can you hear me?” I ask as I reach the edge of the porch, squinting in the bright morning light. “What’s wrong? I lost you for a minute.”
“I can hear you,” Nikki says. “You’ve got to turn on your TV, Phoebe. It’s horrible! I just caught sight of it when I was at the mechanics—I had a leak in my tire and the television was on while I waited for them to fix it. You’re on her show! And the things she’s saying, you won’t believe. I knew these gossip shows were bad, but—”
“Wait, Nikki, slow down,” I say. “Whose show?”
“Rhonda Kerman!” Nikki says. “You’re on Morning Buzz, Phoebe! You and Luca, both! You’ve got to turn it on.”
“I don’t even know if the television here works,” I say. “But I’ll try.”
We hang up, and I rush back inside. I find a remote, sitting in a pile of dust on top of a vintage television set. I press the power button and am surprised when the TV lights up and begins displaying a nature show.
As I scroll through the channels, I hear Luca enter the room.
I look up at him just as I find the show. “That was Nikki,” I say. “She says we’re on television.”
“You’re kidding me,” Luca says, a look of horror crossing his face.
We both turn to the TV, which is displaying a blown-up image of Luca in the hotel elevator.
“I mean really,” Rhonda says disdainfully. “What is he doing with her? She’s facing jail time, people!”
Rhonda shakes her head and scoffs. Then she continues, as more images of Luca flash across the screen. “He’s been given everything a person could ask for, and still he’s making bad decisions like this. Shame on him. It gets worse. He’s not only spending time with her, but he’s living with her in this extravagant hotel. But there’s more. We have Janice Burton here to tell us all about it.”