“Ash?” she inquirers at my silence, turning slightly in her seat to face me.
I grab her hand, giving her a squeeze before I place our joined hands against her bump. “Just thinking about how different my life is than it was a few months ago. I’m happy, Chelcie. I’m really happy and I didn’t think I would feel that way again.”
She smiles that fucking gorgeous smile at me, and I notice a second too late that she’s about to lose it. She clutches my hand, bringing it up to her chest at an awkward angle, and hugs it. If I weren’t accustomed to her whiplash-like mood swings, I would be alarmed. I smile knowingly at her and wait for the tears to stop and her grip to lighten up on my hand.
“I’m sorry,” she hiccups.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Not sure what brought on the waterworks, Sunshine. Least I can tell that’s a good thing.”
“Oh hush, you! It is a good thing. I’m so proud of you, Ash.” She sobers, leans her head against the seat, and looks at me, her eyes dark with emotion.
“And why exactly are you proud of me?” I joke.
“You’ve come so far. You’re fighting that darkness all on your own, Ash.” She sighs. “You have no idea how incredible you are.”
I look over at her in shock. How can she even begin to think that I’ve done this alone? My God, if it weren’t for her, I would still be lost. She’s the reason I’m not trapped in that black hole of grief.
“You really believe that, don’t you? That I did this all on my own?”
She nods, looking perplexed at my question.
“Damn, woman. One of these days, you’re going to see just how much you give me. I didn’t do this alone. I did this with you right by my side.” Her eyes start to fill with tears, and this time, I know what’s coming before she starts. “Chelcie. Dry it up, baby. Nothing to cry about, okay?”
She nods her head, kisses her fingers, and brings them to my cheek. “If I didn’t have this big ol’ belly, I would kiss the mess out of you, Asher.”
“Right back at ya, babe.”
We make the rest of the drive to the doctor in a comfortable silence. I let the nerves pick back up at the thought of this coming appointment.
“So tell me what I’m about to experience.”
She laughs when she hears the stress in my tone. No lie, I’m edgy as hell right now. I keep picturing all these instruments of torture coming for her belly.
“Just the normal stuff. The nurse will check my weight—speaking of, you are NOT allowed to look!” I laugh and nod my head, willing her to continue. “Then they’ll make me pee in a cup—once again, no looking at that either—then check my blood pressure and ask me a million questions about how I’ve felt the last month. Then the doctor will come in and ask me the same questions all over again. It’s really kind of boring. She’ll move my belly around a bunch, measure it, and then ask me more questions.”
“That’s it? Well, uh…how are they supposed to tell you what the baby is if all they do is touch your belly? Is there some way to tell by moving it around?”
She laughs, the music of her amusement dancing around inside of my Jeep. “Baby, I’ll get an ultrasound. They just place some goopy gel on my stomach and place a little wand over it, move it around, and take a bunch of measurements. Then, if the baby is cooperating, we will get to see between his or her legs and hopefully know what we’re having.”
Hearing her say we’re causes my heart to leap in my chest. Goddamn, this woman unmans me.
“I like the sound of that,” I tell her honestly.
“What? That I get some goopy gel?” she snickers.
“No, Sunshine—you said we’re. What we’re having. I love how that sounds.”
She doesn’t say anything, and I look over at her. Once again, she’s bawling, but this time, she’s trying her hardest to keep her shit together. I burst out laughing, earning me a light smack to my arm.
“This isn’t funny!” she smarts.
“You’re right. It’s hilarious.”
She smacks me again, but I notice that her tears have dried up and she’s looking out the window with a small smirk on her lips.
***
We’ve been sitting in these damn narrow chairs for the last hour. I shift a few times uncomfortably, wishing I could get out of this room. There are at least fifteen other pregnant chicks in here. Some have bigger bellies than Chelcie’s, but some are huge—so huge that I swear I can see their babies moving. I look back over at Chelcie’s belly again with what must be a look of horror because she starts laughing lightly.
“Would you relax?” she says with a hushed tone.
I lean over so that my lips are right up against her ear. “Sunshine, would you be able to relax if all you could picture was a little alien popping out of one of their bellies? Just like in that damn Spaceballs movie. I swear to God, if that happens, you’re on your own because I’m out of here.”