Between The Sheets Part 11

I'm on my feet and walking to the door when I realize my mother is staying put. I motion for her to come with me. Reluctantly, she stands and shuffles over.

"I wasn't sure," she whispers.

With my head on her shoulders as we follow the nurse, I tell her, "Right now, I need my mama more than ever, so stay close. Always."

Before I can even sit on the patient table, the nurse in the super comfortable looking scrubs hands me a cup and asks for a sample. She also explains that I need to get naked and put on the paper gown before the doctor comes in.

Nice. I thought we might get to know each other first before I start handing over my fluids.

After willing my bladder to let the flood gates open, I leave my specimen cup in the secret pa.s.s-through compartment in the wall and make my way to the exam room. Within minutes I'm shivering in my paper gown, having shed all my clothing like a freaking ninja so my mom wouldn't have to see my white a.s.s.

The door swings open along with a cold breeze, causing my nipples to stand at attention. And holy s.h.i.t, if it wasn't the chill, my nips may have called out anyway. Sweet jeezus, this is not my regular doctor.

The fine piece of manhood reaches out his hand. "h.e.l.lo there, Melissa. I'm Dr. Bryant." When I suddenly become mute, he continues by introducing himself to my mother, and then addressing me again. "Dr. James is on maternity leave so I'm filling in for her until she gets back. But don't worry, I've been doing this for years. I have two beautiful children of my own and my wife tells me I have a great bedside manner."

I bet she does. The man is like milk chocolate, all smooth and yummy with his height and muscular build. Dark skin and light green eyes. Holy s.h.i.t. How am I going to let this G.o.d-like creature with soft strong hands and a great bedside manner touch me?

He goes on to ask the regular questions. Have I had any spotting, cramps, blah, blah, blah? How am I feeling? My medical history which my mom helps me with. Then he gets real personal and asks about my baby daddy. I'm completely honest and tell him I'm not married and I haven't told Ty because I wanted to be sure I'm really pregnant. He nods with a sympathetic smile and taps away on his computer.

"So I hear you have irregular cycles and are not sure when you last had your period. Is that correct?"

I go on to explain how I run and I never keep track, but maybe the last time I had it was around my birthday.

"Well, according to the good ol' urine test, you're coming up positive for pregnancy. What we need to do now is an internal exam, listen for a heartbeat since I'm guessing we're far enough along. And then we'll get you set up for an ultrasound." He places his tablet on the counter and calls out for a nurse.

"All that? Today?" I ask. It's not what I expected. Everything online said first appointments were a bit of a let-down. But this, this is way more than I could have imagined.

"Melissa, it's important that we get some accurate measurements on your baby. It will help us establish a due date and allow you to make plans for the duration of your pregnancy. I'm a.s.suming you'd like to know when your baby is going to be done cooking, right?" His eyes twinkle with a smile. They freaking twinkle. I may want my baby to stay in the oven if that means I get to ogle this doctor for longer.

"Yes, that'd be nice."

A nurse or nurse's a.s.sistant comes in and she starts flipping up things here and there on the exam table. The most notable, of course, are the stirrups.

"Mom," he says, "Why don't you come up here?" I'll have to thank him later for not giving my mom a cooch shot. Instead, she's standing right next to my face and I take her hand.

The nurse places a light blanket over my bottom half and lifts my feet into the dreaded stirrups. This isn't my first rodeo, but it's never a pleasant one. I can't think of any woman who has ever enjoyed this.

The doctor slides a pair of purple gloves on his hands and stands beside me. First, he measures my belly with a tiny tape measure. Then, he explains that I'll feel some pressure as he does the pelvic exam to check my uterus. Oh, fun times.

When he's finished with the exam, and I'm done wincing at the uncomfortable intrusion into my body, he says, "Well, you're definitely far enough along to hear the heartbeat so let's take a listen."

The nurse removes my feet from the stirrups and slides out a platform for me to rest my legs. With the blanket still covering my lower half, the doctor takes what looks like a microphone and shimmies it in the opening of my gown. A switch is flipped and he pushes the sucker onto my belly.

At first, there is static coming from a small speaker nearby. Then ...

Oh my G.o.d. One hand shoots up to my mouth, and my eyes focus on my mom's as I squeeze her hand with my other one.

"Is that it? Is that my baby?" She nods and a quick glance at the doc shows off his sweet smile. The rhythm of the whooshing sound is amazing. "This is crazy. I've watched this scene in so many movies, but this is real. It's real, isn't it?"

"It's very real," Dr. Bryant says. "Wait till you see the ultrasound."

I'm leaving early tomorrow morning to San Francisco. That leaves me with less than twenty four hours to figure out how to tell Tyler Gelson that he is going to be a father come December. Less than twenty four hours to tell him I'm fourteen weeks pregnant. Out of my first trimester. There's a heartbeat. There's a real baby. I saw her in the ultrasound. Not that I know she's a she. I don't want to know yet. For that, I have to wait for Ty. But she's real. A beautiful face, arms, legs, hands, feet. Eyes, ears, a nose, and a mouth. She's all there.

But first, I have to tell my dad. If my mom didn't already know, I'd have told Ty first. But she does know. And I can't have her keeping a secret from my dad. That's just not the way things roll in our house.

With my feet tucked beneath me, I lounge on my mom's sofa waiting for my dad to get home. Any minute he's going to walk through that door and I'll have to spill the beans.

The question is, how?

More than anything, I think every dad dreads hearing their daughters say the words, "I'm pregnant." But I'm not a teenager anymore. Maybe he won't be so disappointed I got knocked up out of wedlock. I'll be the talk of the family with my aunts. That's for sure. No doubt they'll all be in church praying for me.

Maybe I can just do it like that old Molly Ringwald movie, Playing For Keeps. "I'm pregnant, can you pa.s.s the turnips?" Who the h.e.l.l eats turnips?

There's a sound at the door, the rustling of the door k.n.o.b and then the thud of his giant footsteps on the hardwood floors. A few seconds later he appears in the archway leading into the room where my mom and I await.

He takes off his black police department ball cap and I can already see the worry in his eyes. "What happened?"

His eyes trail from mine to my mother's and back to mine again. Then he glances at the death grip I have on the pillow and the tissue in my hands.

My mother stands and is at his side in one graceful swoop. She circles her arms around him and lifts on tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Come, take a seat."

Before he does, he closes his strong arms around her for a brief moment and presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. My heart fills with admiration of the love they share. Close to forty years and counting and they still have it.

He sits down across the sofa from me and reaches his hand over to cover mine. "What is it, Melissa?"

"Well, it's nothing bad, really? So you can just un-wrinkle your brow?" The crease between his eyes always gets to me. That look ... like he's scared and ready to kick a.s.s at the same time.

He throws an arm over the backrest, relaxing into the sofa cushions, and shifts to face me. "So tell me, mija. What's not so bad?"

I glance over at my mom and she nods. "Well, you're going to be a grandpa?"

He takes a gasp for air and then a smile creeps over his face. "Whoa," he covers his chest with his hands, "that's not bad at all. Congratulations." His eyes shift to my mom. "We're going to be grandparents. It's about time."

The fear and worry escapes from my pores as I see the smile on my dad's face brighten and light up the room. He's not angry. He's thrilled. Whew.

"Wait a minute." Oh s.h.i.t. I knew it was too good to be true. "Where is Tyler? Why isn't he here with you sharing the news?" I can't help the frown that takes over my face as my fingernails turn into the most fascinating thing in the room. "Tyler Gelson is the father, right?"

My head shoots up to look at my dad. "Of course my baby is Ty's. I can't believe you'd even ask that."

"Well, he's not here. I can't believe he'd be such a coward," he says, his voice rising with each word.

"Daddy, Ty is not a coward." I pause, my lip quivering and my hands trembling. f.u.c.k. "He doesn't know yet."

"Why the h.e.l.l not?" A hand flies up to press to his forehead, his signature I'm confused and irritated move.

Because is all I want to say, but I know better. My dad is a master of interrogation because he happens to be an amazing cop and an even better dad. Shel and I could never get anything past him when we were younger and I still can't. Apparently. It was dumb of me to think I might be able to share the news and walk out the door without a thousand questions. Why couldn't he have just stopped at is all I want to say, but I know better. My dad is a master of interrogation because he happens to be an amazing cop and an even better dad. Shel and I could never get anything past him when we were younger and I still can't. Apparently. It was dumb of me to think I might be able to share the news and walk out the door without a thousand questions. Why couldn't he have just stopped at congratulations congratulations?

"As you know, I just got back from San Francisco. I didn't even know I was pregnant until Mom told me."

Dad doesn't waste anytime staring down my mother. "How did you know?"

"She came over to visit and as soon as I saw her, I just knew. Look at her, she's glowing like an angel at Christmas."

His attention reverts back to me and so does his smile, thankfully. "Anyway," I continue, "Mom suggested that I might have a bun in the oven so she took me to get a few home tests." I leave out the part about the d.i.l.d.os in the aisle at the drugstore and move on to tell him about my doctor's appointment. With tears in his eyes, he listens as I recount listening to my baby's heartbeat. "I don't want to tell Ty over the phone so I'm going to drive back up tomorrow morning and share the news."

"He's going to be so happy, I'm sure of it."

I can only hope. Secretly, I have my fingers crossed. I haven't forgotten what he said about Shel wanting to have a baby. The best thing about her having a kid is the ability to give it back. Well, he can't give back this one. This little peanut is his ... forever.

Chapter 13

Nine hours is a long time to contemplate how to tell the man you love you're having his baby. Too f.u.c.king long if you ask me. By the time I reach Ty's apartment, I've sucked down three iced teas from Starbucks and had to stop to pee once every two hours. This weak bladder is killing me.

I was ready to strangle the barista at the last stop because, apparently, it is too much to ask to brew some decaf tea and then pour it over ice. I feel her though. This decaf s.h.i.t is going to get real old. I don't know if I can hold out the entire nine months. As it is, I'm going through withdrawals without my gla.s.s-gla.s.ses-of wine. Not to mention, new flavors of Stella Rosa have popped up and I'm dying to head to the winery for a tasting. If it was still 1960, I'd be able to take a drink. d.a.m.n those doctors for figuring out alcohol and a growing fetus shouldn't mix. I laugh to myself at my joke.

Ty is waiting outside, sitting on the bottom step of the staircase that leads up to his place. He closes the distance to my car in a flash. My window glides down and he pokes his head in for a kiss before I can get out a h.e.l.lo.

"Dang, Mel. Hungry much?" He eyeb.a.l.l.s the empty container of Pringles on the seat next to me. And the half eaten package of licorice next to it. And the exhausted bag of hot-n-spicy beef jerky.

"It was a long ride." I open the door so I can get out and stretch my legs.

"Remind me to pack a cooler for you for the way home. Or a refrigerator," he teases.

I punch him in the gut. "Ha ha. You're so funny."

His arms curl around my waist and tug me closer. Instantly, I feel at home in his arms. Allowing myself the comfort of his embrace, I rest my head against his chest with a long sigh of contentment. How could I be worried about telling Ty about the baby? He's always been there for me. Since we were kids he's been my safe house, my security blanket. The one person besides Shel or my parents who I could turn to for just about anything.

"Hey," he says, rubbing his hands up and down my back. "Can you believe I'm going to be an uncle? When Shel said she wanted to get preggers, she meant it." This could be my opening. "I thought they'd wait a little longer though. They haven't had much time to enjoy being newlyweds. I don't envy them or the lack of sleep they're in for. I'm so not ready for that responsibility."

Okay, maybe not. My body tenses as I back away from him. Oh s.h.i.t. This is going to be a lot harder than I could have ever imagined.

After Ty has dropped my bags in his room, he leads me into the kitchen where the scent of garlic is wafting through the air.

"I thought I'd surprise you with an early dinner." His heart-melting smile hits me in the chest and makes my knees go weak. If I were a cartoon, you'd see me in a puddle on the floor already. "I didn't think you'd want to go out after the long drive."

"You cooked for me?" It smells like more than just mac-n-cheese or Ramen so I'm impressed.

"Yeah. My mom helped me."

"What?" I yelp, and my hand flies up to cover my mouth. "Oh. Sorry. I mean, you called your mom."

He laughs because he knows how insane it sounds. "No need to apologize. It took me a good hour to work up the sanity to call her. And by the time I was finished, I regretted it but, at least, we have something good to eat."

I know how much of a pain in the a.s.s his mother can be. I feel for him and Sh.e.l.ly. The woman is downright nasty. Especially to Shel. So much so that she hasn't even told her mom she's expecting because she doesn't want her watching over her every move and inserting herself into every decision she and Matt make.

"We could've had Taco Bell." If I were Ty, I would have made some Hamburger Helper before I made the call to Cruella.

"I wanted to do something special for you for making the trip. And since Shel and Matt only eat Captain Crunch or pasta, I had no choice." He shrugs.

"Well, I'll just have to show you how much I appreciate the gesture." I hook my finger into the waistband of his jeans and pull him closer. "So what are we having?"

"Umm. Pasta." I chuckle, but he holds up a finger to shh me. "But it's homemade. Not from a can like Shel uses."

I arch a brow at him. "Impressive."

He arches a brow right back at me. "I hope you're saying that later."

"You haven't touched your wine, Melly?" Ty gestures at my gla.s.s. "I got your favorite. It's not some cheap s.h.i.t."

d.a.m.n. I didn't think he'd notice. "Oh, thanks." I raise the gla.s.s to my lips and take a pretend sip. "It's good. I just haven't been feeling it lately. Since Shel can't drink, maybe I'm having sympathy sobriety with her."

He laughs at my joke. "You think you could have sympathy b.o.o.bs too?" He chuckles. "I hear that's one of the perks."

"Oh, really. Mine aren't big enough for you? You only have two hands."

"Honey, your b.r.e.a.s.t.s are perfect. My two hands are very grateful for them. Along with other parts of my body." He winks.

"You'll just have to show me later."

"Or now. I'm done." He tosses his napkin on his plate. "That was delicious. I'll have to email my mom to tell her so."

"Email?"