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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MARLEE

M y legs swing nervously off the edge of the exam table, the crinkly paper underneath me crackling every time I shift.

Ledger sits beside me in chair that is at least two sizes too small for him, knees to his chest, clutching a plastic water bottle like it might save him. It’s comical to witness, really.

My palms are a little sweaty and I’m not sure if it’s from nerves or the fact that Ledger keeps bouncing his knee like he’s about to be called in for a penalty.

“You good?” he asks like he’s not the one who looks like he might throw up at any moment.

“I’m fine. You’re the one who’s nervous. You’re vibrating like a high-speed dildo.”

He opens his mouth to argue but when he sees my unwavering expression, he takes my hand instead. His palm is warm and slightly clammy.

“Nervous? I’m not nervous,” he says with a little more confidence. “I’m preparing myself for when we hear it’s triplets again.”

My eyes nearly bulge out of my head. “Triplets? Again? Ledge, this is our very first ultrasound. In what universe did you think we were having triplets?”

“Sorry.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I’ve had this crazy dream several times since you said you were pregnant that we went to our first ultrasound and found out we were having triplets.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Uh, how about we work on never ever having that dream again, okay?” I squeeze his hand. “I’m not sure I could handle more than one baby right now. One is what I signed up for.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ve processed that this is all really real—and really happening—until right now.”

You and me both.

I thought I would be doing this whole thing alone.

I never imagined I’d be at this appointment with anyone, let alone Ledger Dayne.

And he’s over here dreaming about triplets?

Fuck me!

There’s a soft knock on the door before the ultrasound tech walks in, a cheerful smile on her face and wearing scrubs covered in tiny rubber ducks.

And now my heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest.

“Hi guys! I’m Wendy. I’ll be doing your ultrasound today. Are you ready to see your little nugget?”

“Does it look like a nugget or a peanut?” Ledger asks. “Because I’ve heard both and the internet says a raisin.” He shrugs. “I guess the internet goes by fruits. I don’t know. I’m just…you know, looking for a visual.”

Aww.

He talks a lot when he’s nervous.

It’s cute.

“Definitely peanut stage,” she confirms. “Nugget’s a few weeks away.”

“Okay.” Ledger nods, no doubt committing the visual of a peanut to memory. “Got it. Thanks.”

“This is your first ultrasound, right?”

I nod. “Yes.”

Wendy reads over my file. “Okay and based on your last period you’re thinking you should be at about eight weeks or so?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Perfect.” She smiles, and I instantly feel calmer. “Well let’s see what we can see today, shall we? We’re going to try an external ultrasound first and if we can’t see much, we’ll go with an internal, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to have you lay back and lift your shirt to your bra line. And then if you can shimmy the waistline of your pants down to just above your pelvic bone, that would be helpful.”

Once I give her the area she needs, Wendy squirts a cold gel on my belly and I try my best not to flinch.

Because shit, it’s cold!

Ledger flinches just watching me, which makes me laugh.

Then the screen to the right of my head flickers to life and we both instinctively turn our heads toward it, watching.

Waiting. It’s grainy at first. Just a bunch of grayish shadows I can’t even begin to comprehend, but then Wendy adjusts the wand slightly, and there, in the middle of the screen is what looks like a peanut—Wendy was right—nestled within this big black space.

Wow.

“There’s little peanut,” Wendy says as she clicks her computer mouse and then pecks at a few keys on the keyboard in front of her.

Oh, my God.

Wendy zooms in on the peanut shaped blob so much that we can see a little flicker on the screen. Like the softest drumbeat in the center of something impossibly tiny. “And this little flutter right here, is your baby’s heartbeat.”

I swear to God time stops.

Ledger stares and I stop breathing. Something in my chest expands…like my heart is trying to make room for someone else now.

“That little flutter thing?” Ledger whispers, his voice breaking. He clears his throat and tries again. “That little flutter is…a heartbeat?”

Wendy nods, smiling. “Yep. Beating strong too.”

“That’s…ours?” The words come out of my mouth but I don’t hear them. And I don’t realize I’m crying until Ledger’s thumbs swipe across my cheeks.

“All ours, Mar. Look how…beautiful it is.” He squeezes my hand and I turn my head to face him only to find his chin quivering and his eyes glistening.

“It’s real now. You okay?” I realize this isn’t exactly what he signed up for initially, but it’s where we are now. I’ve been wanting to be a mom forever but Ledger? This was all sort of thrust up on him much more recently.

“Yeah,” he breathes, his eyes filled with amazement. “Realer than anything I’ve ever felt.”

Wendy continues moving the wand, pointing things out as she goes—head, limb buds, spine—but all I can focus on is the tiny pulsing rhythm of life and the way Ledger’s thumb keeps stroking the back of my hand like he can’t stop.

Which is fine because I don’t want him to.

Feeling him here with me helps me remember I’m not alone.

Ledger has been by my side every step of the way so far. Making sure I’m eating and drinking. Bringing me goldfish crackers every day because he knows they help my nausea, holding my hair back when morning sickness gets the best of me. I couldn’t be more grateful for him.

Leaning forward to get a better look at the small computer screen, Ledger whispers softly and tenderly, “You’ve got no idea what you’re getting into, kid. But I promise, we’re gonna love the hell outta you.”

Just hearing him say those words to our baby…

to the life we created together, brings more tears to my eyes as my heart grows three more sizes.

I let the tears flow shamelessly though because in this moment, watching Ledger react to what we’ve seen and listening to him talk to our baby, I’ve fallen head over heels in love with this man.

“I mean, it really looked like a peanut,” Ledger says with a mouthful of pancake. He was happy to oblige when we walked out of the ultrasound and I suddenly had a craving for pancakes. “A strong little peanut. With a heartbeat.”

“A legume with tons of potential,” I add with a grin.

I dump three creamers into my coffee and stir like it’s therapy. Across from me, Ledger’s plate is stacked with a heroic tower of pancakes—blueberry, whipped cream, extra butter, and what appears to be half a bottle of syrup.

“You know, it kind of looks like you’re stress-eating like you just lost The Cup.”

He smirks and shakes his head. “Nope. This, Marlee, is victory eating.” He chews the rest of his bite and swallows it down with a swig of milk. “There’s a heartbeat. A tiny, flickering heartbeat. That we made. On purpose.”

He’s smiling, but his eyes are wide. Like, terrified puppy wide.

“You’re still cool with this being real, right?”

Peering over his pancakes, he hesitates. It’s a tiny trace of hesitation but I see it. Then he nods. “ I’m in. Like...all in . Even if it turns out that peanut has your nose and my stubborn streak.”

“ God help us all,” I giggle.

Ledger takes a massive bite of pancake, then talks around it. “So, do we start buying stuff now? Like, tiny socks? A crib? A minivan?

“You mean a minivan for the triplets you keep dreaming up in your head?” I tease. “Yeah we better get something more like a nine-passenger.”

“Whoa!” He laughs. “Now let’s not go that far. I know my swimmers would do the job but they’re not on steroids or anything. God help that beautiful little stomach of yours had that been the case.”

“Right? I’d be on bedrest before we knew it. Good thing there was only one in there.”

It feels good to joke around with Ledger. I know this is a lot, especially with him starting the hockey season at the same time. He has a lot going on and I wouldn’t blame him if he feels a bit overwhelmed.

My smile softens as I watch him stab another syrup-drenched bite. He’s without a doubt one of the most amazing men I’ve ever met.

“You’re gonna be a good dad, you know.”

He freezes mid-chew, swallows hard, and clears his throat. “You think so?”

“You don’t?” I ask cocking my head, narrowing in on his insecurity.

Is this why he hesitated earlier?

Ledger shrugs his shoulder as he pushes another bite around his plate.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to try my absolute best.” He pops the bite into his mouth and raises his gaze to meet mine, the green in his eyes prominent today.

“I promise you I’ll give you and our child everything I possibly can. ”

I know you will.

It’s who you are.

And our baby will be the luckiest one of all.

I reach across the table, resting my hand over his. “I have no doubt you’ll be the best dad you can possibly be. And our peanut? Lucky as hell.”

12 WEEKS

My body retches like it’s in full revolt as I hang my head over the toilet in my bathroom.

The first eight to nine weeks of this pregnancy, I thought, were relatively easy-going.

Just a day here and there of feeling like shit, but these last three weeks have paled in comparison.

The end of this trimester has been disgustingly gross in terms of morning sickness.

I thought these kinds of symptoms were supposed to dissipate as time went on, but I’m beginning to wonder if the toilet and I should be on a first name basis now

Clearly, everything I read on the internet isn’t true.

Who knew?

Why, body? Why do you hate me so much?

From the other side of the bathroom door, Ledger speaks softly, tenderly. “Everything okay in there? That last one sounded kind of…violent.”

When I don’t answer right away, the door creaks open and Ledger stands in the doorway with the piece of half-eaten toast he optimistically tried to feed me earlier. He takes one look at me and tosses the toast in the trash, thank God. Just looking at food makes me nauseous.

“I just threw up air and it’s really getting on my nerves. I haven’t even eaten anything. How is this amount of retching humanly possible?”

He gives me a sincerely sympathetic glance. “ Magic? Vengeful womb gnome?”

I glare at him from the floor. “Your semen demon, you mean? The crotch goblin that is literally killing me from the inside out?”

He chuffs but he knows I’m not trying to be funny. “Can we just focus on how good it felt putting him in there and not the part where he’s ripping apart your insides? Also why is it all of a sudden a boy?”

“Because girls are sugar and spice and everything nice. They’d never do this to each other because as girls we know that our gender suffers enough. We literally bleed for seven days every single month. We wouldn’t wish extra nausea and vomiting on anyone, so clearly it’s a boy.”

It makes sense in my head.

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks for clearing that up for me. Come on,” he says as he gently lifts me from the floor and carries me back to the couch, grabbing the trash can on the way like a practiced flight attendant.

He lowers me to the couch, sets the trash can beside me, plumps a pillow and tucks a fleece blanket back around my shoulders like I’m his most fragile cargo.

If I wasn’t so irritated with his semen demon, I’d appreciate his extreme sweetness.

“ Alright, Captain Queasy, what’s the game plan? Ice chips? Ginger ale? Want me to try one of those home remedies where I wave a lemon under your nose and chant softly?”

“Can we invite Betty White to help me with the chanting?”

He twists the corner of his mouth. “I believe she’s with us in spirit, Marlee.”

Ledger disappears into the kitchen. Within seconds there are banging sounds followed by the opening of four different drawers, a few whistled tunes I can’t recognize and then he returns with a mug of warm tea, two crackers on a paper towel, and a banana he’s drawn a smiley face on with a Sharpie.

“Your breakfast crew. They’re emotionally supportive.”

I stare at the banana, then at him. “You drew a face on my banana?”

He nods. “Of course. He believes in you. And also, he’s not judgmental…you know, if you need to puke again.”

I take the mug, my hand trembling a little, and then lean back exhausted. “I didn’t think morning sickness would feel like a war inside my body.”

“You’re literally making a human, Marlee. That’s full-body combat.” He perches on the edge of the coffee table, watching me like I might break in half at any moment. “I do hate seeing you like this though. I’d trade you places if I could.”

“You wouldn’t last five minutes,” I groan.

“One hundred percent correct. I’d cry immediately and demand orange popsicles. Puking and me are not friends. I hang a not-welcome sign in my bathroom to keep Mr. Puke away.”

“Oh, is that all it takes?”

“For you? I think it takes the chanting you refused to do without Betty White by your side.”

I giggle but then wince and grab my stomach. “Ugh. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Okay. How about less jokes. More comfort,” Ledger suggests.

He slides onto the couch behind me, gently guiding me to rest against him.

One hand on my hip, the other strokes my hair slowly.

“For what it’s worth, you’re doing an amazing job making our tiny human.

Even when you look like you’re about to punch gravity in the face. ”

“ Mmm. You're good at this.” My eyes closed, I relish in the gentle respite my body is awarding me along with the tender touch of Ledger’s warm hands.

I miss our physical contact. We haven’t been intimate since the night this baby was conceived and even though there is no physical way my body would allow me the luxury right now unless Ledger has some weird type of vomit kink, I miss him.

“You say that now. Just wait until I panic and try to swaddle my hockey stick.”

I snort softly into his chest and then we sit in silence for a long moment, his breathing and an occasional stomach grumble the only sounds in the room.

“ You want me to google foods that don’t betray pregnant women?”

“Only if they taste like not throwing up.”