“Nah, we’re tight.” I gave her a wink, popping the top of my soda.
Zander suspiciously eyed it, licking his lips, as I took my first sip.
“Okay,” she simply said.
I saw his hand move a millisecond before soda splattered us both. Both women covered their laughter as Zander burst into tears at the sudden sensation of being drenched by cold liquid.
I wasn’t too happy about it either.
“Oh, baby boy!” Grace cooed. “It’s okay!”
Her outstretched hands met his, and he reached for her, completely abandoning the mean man who had forgotten about the unwritten rule regarding soda cans and infants.
Apparently, you had to watch both like a hawk, or this would happen.
“I’m going to go change,” I announced, standing, as I watched Coke drip down my jeans and into my shoes.
Squeaky-toed, I walked off to the bedroom to grab a new pair of jeans. As I rifled through the drawers of our new dresser, trying to figure out how everything was organized, I found an envelope hidden underneath a drawer stuffed with Lailah’s sweaters. Curiously, I pulled it out and found the ultrasound pictures the technician had printed. In addition, the solitary image from her first ultrasound was underneath. I held them side-by-side, amazed by how much our tiny peanut had grown in only four weeks. In the first image, there was nothing really—just a dark circle that showed the place a baby would eventually be. Four weeks later, I could clearly see the progress of growth.
It made me anxious to add to this growing pile. I was hoping, in the visits to come, we’d see more as our child blossomed in Lailah’s belly. A month ago, I had argued for abortion, and now, I was staring down at ultrasound pictures with amazement. She’d done that. Lailah had filled me with hope, and I only prayed everything would turn out the way she envisioned it.
I tucked the photos back in their hiding spot, wondering for a moment why they were hiding in the first place, but I quickly reminded myself that I was most likely dripping soda onto the carpet. Throwing on a fresh pair of jeans, I joined everyone back on the deck just in time to hear Grace announce that she’d brought us a gift.
“Well, it’s for Lailah mostly,” she admitted.
“I’ll try not to be offended,” I joked.
“Why are you bringing us gifts?” Lailah asked as she bounced a now happy Zander on her knee.
He’d also gone through a wardrobe change, and his mood was much lighter.
“Housewarming gift—of sorts,” she said, pulling a flat square package from the large baby bag she’d brought.
“Hey, Mary Poppins, if you dig deep enough in there, can you pull a lamp out as well??” I asked, grinning.
“Very funny,” she snorted. “I’ll be sure to bank all these funny jokes, so I can remind you of them later when you’re carrying a bag just like this on your shoulder a year from now.”
Shaking my head, I turned to hand the package to Lailah, who smiled hesitantly back at us.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing, nothing,” she answered quickly. “Let’s see what this is!”
She pulled a piece of wrapping paper just far enough to intrigue Zander, and he tore the rest. Underneath, the two of them unveiled a beautiful baby book, the front obviously hand-embellished in neutral fabrics and colors.
“Oh, Grace,” Lailah sighed appreciatively. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Yeah? I made it myself. I wanted you to have something special.” She leaned forward, opening the book, as it rested in Lailah’s lap. “I made sure to include places where you could put baby shower pictures and invitations. There are even spots to write special memories during the pregnancy, like the first time you feel a kick or a flutter and your first pair of maternity clothes.”
“Thank you,” Lailah said sincerely.
“You’re welcome. I can’t wait to meet baby Cavanaugh.”
With an emotional smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, she answered, “Us either.”
A while later, we wished Grace and Zander a good evening and settled into the night with some take-out from around the corner. As I handed her a plateful of salad and pizza, ready to begin our movie selection, I turned to her.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
She nodded, turning to me in her curled up position on the couch.
“Why did you put the sonogram pictures in a drawer?”
Her eyes went downcast as she worried on her bottom lip. “I’m too afraid to celebrate,” she admitted. “It’s still so early. What if something happens?”
I grabbed her plate, setting both down on the coffee table in front of us. As I took her hand in mine, she nudged her way into my arms.
“You know something could happen at any moment,” I reminded her.
She simply nodded.
“But you know what?”
Her eyes met mine.
“That’s true for anyone, Lailah. Sure, our circumstances are unique, but we’re still like everyone else—two people preparing for the biggest challenge of our lives. You don’t think anyone else worries about things going wrong?”