For Everything a Reason...Pt. 8: One More to Go (Draft)

I stared at the ultrasound. Tried my best to process what my eyes were seeing. What the ultrasound operator lady was pointing out for me to see. Twins. We were going to have twins...shit.

I felt Sharon's squeeze of the hand and managed to tear my eyes away from the screen. I looked down at her half sitting, half half reclining on the examination table.

“You okay?”

I nodded. But I wasn't. Not that I was going to tell her that though. Because looking down at her it was obvious that she was more than just OK, she was ecstatic. Hell, she could barely hide her smile. Sharon had always wanted twins. Had talked about it on a number of occasions. A boy and a girl. Maybe Blake and Blair or Kanye and Kenya or--

“Would you guys like to know the sexes of the twins?”

The woman working the ultrasound asked.

Sharon gave an almost imperceptible nod. Of course she did but she would let me decide. And that was the thing, did I? I thought about it for a moment.

Well, it would make for easier planning.

Easier planning my ass, a part of me grumbled. It's fucking twins man. Not one but two babies. Everything that you thought you were going to have to endure, you now have to endure times two. It's not too late to back you know...

“Hey...hey.”

Sharon squeezed my hand again. Her expression was one of concern.

“I know its a lot. If you would rather not know--”

I shook my head.

“No, no. I want to know,”

Turned to the operator lady who was patiently waiting.

“Tell us, we want to know.”

“Are you sure?”

We both nodded our ascent.

“OK then. Just give me a moment,” the operator said while moving the ultrasound probe across the gelled surface of Sharon's stomach and watching the screen.

“Ah, there you go.” she said and paused with her roving. She then pointed at the images on the screen.

“Looks like you've got yourself one of each. A boy and a girl. Congratulations.”

I looked down at Sharon. She was beaming. One of each. Just like she wanted.



***


A little more than two months had passed and I still hadn't told anybody. Nobody particularly close to me anyway. Certainly not family. I was still figuring out how to. Our family has produced more love children than I care to count and I wasn't sure I had the stones to drop the bomb of knowledge of yet another one. Plus Sharon had asked me not to. Not until she had garnered up the courage to tell her people first. Or the courage to see the pregnancy through to the end. Because although she said abortion was not an option, I know she had at least thought about it.

Sharon had left the announcing until the last moment, when her baby bump had started to show. Then she had no choice. People were bound to notice, if they hadn't already. I had wanted to be there for that conversation but she had insisted that she could handle it. We weren't together and so it would be kind of weird if I was there.

“Even if we're not, I'm still going to be a part of this baby's life. My presence there would go a long way to show that I'm a 100% dedicated to that.”

And for a moment Sharon had looked like she was considering it but then blink-blink breathe and her resolve had hardened again.

“No, Ive got this.”

Personally I think that she partly refused because though my presence would show my intentions to “do the right thing” it would also serve as a reminder of the car wreck that was our engagement. No, she would handle it herself. And so she had. Said that people at home were more disappointed than angry, with her anyway, but just plain angry at me. And why hadn't I turned up? I was claiming I was going to be there for the Sharon and the baby and yet I didn't even have the balls to be there when Sharon was telling her family? I sure had a funny way of showing my dedication.

I gave Sharon my best “I told you so” look but had said nothing.

But I had tried to be as consistent as I could. Making doctor's appointments and showing up for check ups and the such like (thank God for insurance). And although it was highly unlikely that Sharon and I would ever get back together (undeniable sparks and all), we had managed to strike up an at least amiable friendship. And that was after a lot of pushing on my side. A lot of apologies as well. It had taken forever for Sharon to even accept the help that she not only needed but deserved. But like they say “Persistence pays” and after what seemed like ages it finally felt like we were on the same page.



***


Sharon and I walked out of the hospital and into the chill. The clouds were promising rain and the wind nipped at my ears. Sharon reached for my hand. I let her take it. She was a hand holder, always had been. Even before we had started dating. She had said as much herself. So me letting her take it wasn't sending out mixed signals...was it? At least I didn't think it was. We walked across the parking lot towards the special hire taxis.

“Thanx for coming today. It means a lot.”

She squeezed my hand. I squeezed back.

“You don't have to thank me.”

“Yes I do. You don't have to be doing this. A lot of guys wouldn't be.”

“But I am. And that's not about to change. So you better get used to it 'cause I'm in this for the long haul.”

Sharon smiled. Was silent for a moment and then,

“Do you want to go grab a cup of coffee or something? Hang out for a bit?”

“I thought you weren't supposed to drink coffee.”

“'Or something' then.”

I smiled. Apologetically.

“I cant. I have a meeting to get to. Rain check though?”

Sharon nodded. Slipped her hand out from mine.

“Yeah, sure. I was stupid to think--”

“How about dinner tonight? We'll go somewhere nice, talk.”

A faint smile kissed her lips.

“I would like that.”

“I'll call you?”

“Yeah.”

And with that I bargained for her a 'specio', gave the man the money, gave Sharon a hug, one more “I'll call you” and watched, hands in pocket, as the taxi drove away.