Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Now we have just a short journey home across the city, and then we’ll be back.
I spend so long in the car rehearsing how I’ll say it and show him that I don’t even notice the journey passing by. And when we’re home, with our bags dumped to one side, ready to be unpacked tomorrow, and takeout sitting on the counter in front of us, I know it’s time.
“Hey,” I say, turning to Hunter to get his attention, muting the television so he’ll look at me, and he does, raising an eyebrow in question. I can see he’s a little worried it might be something serious, but mostly very curious. “I had something I wanted to ask you.”
“You can ask me anything,” he says, taking my hand in his and kissing it. “You know I’ll most likely say yes, anyway.”
I giggle. “I know. It’s not really that kind of question, though.”
“Yeah?”
I take a breath. “How do you feel about being a daddy?”
Hunter stares at me for a long moment. “I… I would really love to be a daddy,” he says. “Is… are you… is that…?”
“That’s why I was sick on the way home,” I tell him with a grin. It’s funny – I never thought I would be happy about being sick.
“You’re… you mean, right now, you’re….”
Hunter seems to be having a hard time putting this together for a private detective.
“I’m pregnant,” I confirm, and laugh in joy as he grabs me, tears of happiness openly streaming from his eyes. He squeezes me tight and then puts his hand over my stomach in wonder.
EPILOGUE
FIVE MONTHS LATER
Hunter
“Are you ready for this?” Jenna asks, and honestly, I don’t know if I ever will be.
On the other hand, I’ve been ready since the fourth month. Now, at seven months, the doctor says we can know the sex.
“Yes,” I say, my voice choked and pinched. I squeeze her hand tighter. The nurse operating the sonogram glances at us and smiles.
“Here we go, then,” she says. She moves the wand across Jenna’s stomach and down, changing the view we have of the baby on the screen.
“You have a real wriggler,” she laughs, chasing the baby around Jenna’s belly as it rolls inside of her, seeming to want to get away from the probe. “Baby doesn’t want to pose for the camera today!”
“Is that a problem?” Jenna asks, her voice tense. “Won’t you be able to see?”
“No, it’s fine,” the nurse says calmly. “We’ve got a few tricks to get them turned around. We can just see… ah, there we go rolling again.”
“Can you see?” I ask urgently. I’m so nervous. I don’t know why – it’s silly, really. The baby will be the baby no matter what. The decision has already been made for us by biology. It’s only us that are finding out today about the sex of the baby. And either way, I know I’m going to love them no matter what.
“I can see,” the nurse confirms. She glances at both of us. “Definitely want to know?”
“Yes!” Jenna and I chorus together so eagerly that she laughs.
“You’re having a beautiful bouncing baby boy,” the nurse says, and Jenna bursts into tears.
I squeeze her hand tight, unable to stop tears from coming to my eyes and a kind of strained half-laugh that I can utter.
“Are you okay?” the nurse asks in alarm. “Oh, dear.”
“Y-yes,” Jenna sobs, managing to speak between great heaving breaths. “I’m just h-happy!”
The nurse laughs at her, and the two of us laugh and cling to one another, blinking tears out of our eyes desperately so that we’ll be able to see the baby on the screen for as long as possible.
In my head, I’m already thinking about when we will book the extra private 3D scans because this is addictive. I don’t want to stop looking at my baby on that little screen.
“I’ll print these out for you,” the nurse says.
“Thank you,” Jenna manages to gasp out, just having managed to compose herself. I help her clean herself up a little from the gel the nurse used and then give her a hand to get down from the bed.
We head out with a few printed pictures of the baby clutched in our hands, sniffling and laughing together.
“It’s a boy,” Jenna says to me again in wonder as we walk back to the car. “A boy. We could call him Hunter junior.”
“Or Frank,” I suggest. “What do you think? It might persuade your dad to stay on the straight and narrow for his namesake.”
Jenna considers it for a minute. “What was your Dad’s name?” she asks.
A lump I thought I had lost ten years ago makes its way back into my throat. “William. Everyone called him Billy.”
“Billy,” Jenna says like she’s testing it out loud. “I like it.”
“Billy Jacobs Junior,” I say. “He’d still have to keep the junior.”