Phantom Scars (32 page)

"Well, I think I found what caused the fainting episode. Have you had any before this?" he asked cryptically, and I was starting to get worried.

"No," Emma whispered.

"Well, that's good. I hope you don't have any more. If you do, you should take it up with your OB/GYN."

Those last initials stuck out in my brain. OB/GYN was the kind of doctor you saw when you were pregnant.

"My what?" Emma asked shocked.

"I have the test results right here, Mrs. Clemens, you're a little over four months pregnant."

Emma quickly turned away and threw up. I carefully rubbed her back and tried to calm the now-fussing baby. Pregnant, Emma was pregnant with a baby, our baby.

"From the dates you gave me and your blood count, it looks like you'll be due right before Thanksgiving," the doctor went on after my girl stopped vomiting. I guess he was used to people doing that.

A couple of women came in to help out, one to clean up the puke, the other a nurse to check on my girl. Dr. Canter was called in to perform an exam on Emma, since she was already so far along. Four months! I looked at her, but she didn't look pregnant. She looked perfectly normal.

"Are you sure the test is right? She doesn't look pregnant," I pointed out.

Dr. Canter grabbed an ultrasound machine and pulled it over to the bedside. "We'll soon find out."

A soft whooshing sound filled the room, and it seemed to relax little CJ. He curled into my side, as I gripped Emma's hand. Dr. Canter took a few prints, and I finally asked, "So, is she really pregnant?"

She smiled at me and turned the screen, so we could see a little baby growing in my wife's stomach. "Yes, she's pregnant with a healthy baby. She's almost seventeen weeks by the looks of things. We can usually tell the sex by this stage. Would you like to know?" she asked looking to Emma.

Emma was sitting stunned with wide eyes. "Yeah, I think it’d be helpful in preparing for the new baby. It looks like we're going to have our hands full," I said looking down at the little hand wrapped around my finger. A baby, or another baby, I should say. I guess I would be staying home next summer. There was no way I would leave my girl home alone like this.

"Emma, do you want to know?" Dr. Canter asked, and Emma nodded yes dumbly.

"It looks like you're going to have a baby girl. Congratulation, guys. You should call my office in the morning and set up another appointment in two weeks."

Emma still looked shocked.

I was surprised, when Dr. Canter walked over and put her hands on either side of Emma’s face. "Emma, honey, I've only known you for a short time, but I know you can do this."

That little pep talk seemed to do the trick. Emma took in a deep breath and nodded okay. I kissed her cheek. "You know my momma is just going to be thrilled, right?" I said with a smile.

"Devin," she asked with a shaky tone, "Are you thrilled?"

I smiled widely. "Ecstatic, we have a boy, and now we're having a little girl. Isn't that the American dream?" I said leaning over and kissing her lips softly.

"Okay," Emma said with a little more confidence. "We can do this."

I knew with the help of our friends and family that we could.

Chapter 61 – Secrets Worth Sharing

So, it turned out that Emma's nausea from her medicine was morning sickness, the fatigue from her depression was actually fatigue from the baby, and the mood swings she blamed on her heightened anxiety was actually normal pregnancy hormones. All of the symptoms, plus her light and irregular periods, left her in the dark when it came to suspecting she was pregnant. For some reason, when it had turned out that she hadn’t been pregnant the first time, she had just assumed she wasn't the second. Being her first pregnancy, her body was not expanding that fast. I mean, she looked almost completely normal, but now that I thought about it, her breasts were quite a bit larger. I just thought it was her growing up. I guess I was wrong, she was actually growing
out
.

Over the next month, it became abundantly clear that I would be the one who would be caring for little CJ. It wasn't that Emma wasn't trying, but more than once, I was thrown into a panic, when I heard little CJ screaming from the next room, only to find my wife out cold from exhaustion, freaking me out and making me think something was wrong with her, when actually, she had just fallen asleep. The fact that his diapers also made her vomit pretty much sealed it for us. I was on daddy duty, at least until our little girl made her appearance.

CJ was an adorable baby, when he wasn't screaming. Unfortunately, that rarely happened. He had a nasty case of what the doctors called colic. His baby formula made his tummy upset, and I didn't know what to do for him other than walk the floors all night, patting his back until we both collapsed from exhaustion. Poor thing would actually whimper in his sleep, and I was starting to feel like a failure as I father. Shouldn't I have had some instincts? Shouldn't a parent just know what was wrong with their kid and how to fix it? I dropped my head back against the couch, as I rubbed little CJ's back and wondered why God didn't send instructions with babies, because I was pretty dang sure they needed them.

I heard a knock at the back door and looked at the time. It was a little after six o'clock in the morning. I wandered over with a fussy CJ on my shoulder and opened the door to find my momma. She took one look at me and frowned. She took the baby from me, and he seemed to settle right down.

"Get me a burp rag and a receiving blanket. It's time I teach you a few tricks of the trade," she said, and I quickly did what she asked.

She rolled one of the blankets up, making it into a weird donut shape and had me take the baby. She slipped it in between CJ and me and then told me to burp him. After a few pats, he burped like a beer-drinking champion. I looked at him surprised, and my momma just laughed. "That was why he was so fussy, honey. Air bubbles hurt in little tummies. Now we need to get the rest out. Go sit down, and I'll teach you how to fart a baby."

I looked at her confused. I was pretty sure my momma had just said she was going to teach me how to fart a baby. Was this some secret information?

"Don't look at me like that. I know what I'm doing. Clayton was the gassiest little thing you ever saw."

"He still is," I said snickering, and she shook her head at me.

"Now, lay the baby in your lap, with his head on your knees and him looking up at you," she instructed, and I did what she said, because that donut blanket trick seemed to get him pretty settled down. "Now, take his little feet in your hands and push his knees into his tummy gently, sort of curling him up to the point his little bum pops up."

I did what she said, and she instructed me to do it a few more times in sort of a rocking motion. Sure enough, little CJ let one rip long and loud. He seemed to be smiling about it, too, which was just too dang cute.

"Now that you have him feeling better, why don't I take him a while, so you can go get some rest? You look exhausted, sugar."

"I am," I said rubbing my face. "Emma has been so tired herself. She's really struggling to keep up with her schoolwork."

"Well, I'm not surprised. Growing a baby is hard work. I'm just glad I raised you right, and you're taking so well too little CJ here," she said kissing his tiny nose. "I know it was hard to step into the role of father so suddenly, Devin, but you're doing a wonderful job."

I must have been more exhausted than I thought, because I nearly burst into tears. "Do you really think so, Momma? I feel so bad some nights, when I can't get him to settle, or he just lays there whimpering, and I don't know what to do."

She hurried forward and hugged me. "Oh, honey, that's exactly why you're such a good daddy. I always knew you would be," she said kissing my head. "Now go get some rest. CJ is going to do some bonding with grandma for a while," she said beaming with excitement, as she packed his diaper bag. I hugged and kissed them both goodbye and dragged myself into my bedroom, barely making it to the bed, before I flopped down and fell straight to sleep.

I woke to the sound of Emma vomiting. I jumped out of the bed and ran to the bathroom to make sure she was okay. When I started rubbing her back, she gasped out, "CJ, table." It took me a minute to figure out that she meant CJ was on the changing table. I went running in, worried he would squirm off, but she had belted him down snugly.

I stopped in the doorway, relieved to find him safe, and took a minute to laugh at the sight. He was naked and content. She had put a wipe over his winky to keep him from fountaining, but he had gotten a hold of it and had it in his mouth. When he heard me laugh, he turned his little head and started kicking excitedly and waving his wipe like it was a flag. He was happy to see me, and that just made me feel amazing. As I started walking closer, he shot off like a fountain, surprising himself and making me laugh even more. I quickly wiped him down and got him changed. He stretched his little arms toward me, wanting me to pick him up, so I did, happy to have some good daddy and son bonding time.

Armed with my momma's new “burping and farting” techniques, I was looking forward to trying them out on my own and proving to myself I could take care of my son.

"How's my big boy? You feeling better all cleaned up? Shall we go check on mommy?" I asked him, as I moved into the hall, but I heard someone clear their throat.

I stopped and saw Clark in a wheelchair with his nurse, Rhonda. I'd forgotten he was coming home today. His eyes were glistening, but he was smiling. He sniffled, and Rhonda had to wipe his nose, because both of his arms were out of commission right now. They had tried taking part of one to get the other to work this last operation, and he didn't have the use of either.

"Hey, Clark, it's good to have you home," I said shifting little CJ so he could see him. "You must be Ms. Rhonda," I said stepping forward, shaking her hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot of good things," Rhonda said smiling, and Emma walked up behind me and wrapped her arm around me, kissing my cheek and little CJ, too.

"Well, that's nice," I said awkwardly. "Did you need help bringing your stuff up?"

"No, I have a cart, and since you have an elevator, it was fairly easy to get it up here," Rhonda said with a pleasant smile.

"That's good. I'm so glad we had the foresight to put the elevator in," I said looking at Emma. "We didn't have one before the fire," I pulled Emma around and rubbed her little tummy, "But I can see it coming in handy, and not just for Clark's chair, either."

"Yes, I was a little surprised, when he said he’d be living over a restaurant, but this place it great."

"Well, that’d be thanks to my Emma here," I said kissing her. "She really was the one who pulled this place together."

"That's not true, Devin, you did all the work," she complained. My girl was humble.

"I only do what you tell me, dear," I promised, kissing her forehead, and she blushed. When I looked over at Clark, he was smiling, and I was glad he finally was starting to understand how much I loved his daughter, and now his son, my son.

"So, what are we doing for dinner? We have to celebrate Clark coming home," I said excitedly, bouncing little CJ, who kicked and flailed his little arms with excitement.

"It's too bad the Italian place closed," Emma lamented, and all I could think was thank God the Italian place closed. I looked at Clark, and he was grimacing. I guess he knew what that place had been, too.

"I can always cook us something, baby. What do you want? Are you craving something?" I asked excited.

"Just Marie's cannoli special," she pouted.

"Maybe my momma has the recipe or some clue what she put in them. Just give me a minute, I'll go find out," I said hurrying out the door. I didn't even realize I still had CJ, until Jen came up, attacking me, trying to steal him from me. I was so used to having him in my arms that he felt more like a limb than baggage. He kind of was my extra limb, my fussy one that needed a lot of burping, but he was cute.

I found my momma and asked her about the cannoli, and she told me to hold on a second. She went into the office and came out about ten minutes later with a big smile. "I've got it. The whole recipe, right down to the pasta!" my momma exclaimed.

"Really?" I asked excited.

"Of course, once I told Marie that Emma was craving it, she almost insisted on flying back to make it for her, but her husband convinced her to just give me the recipe. Now, you have to swear that it'll never leave the two of us. Only we're allowed to have it and only to use it for good," she said like she was giving me superpowers.

I smiled, kissing her cheek. "Of course, Momma, to the grave," I teased in a bad Italian accent. She swatted my behind, and I ran away and snagged my son from the bridge club. Poor kid had more lipstick on him now than a drag queen. I was apologizing to him, when the elevator door opened, and Emma was laughing at me. I was not sure why, but then she wiped some lipstick off of me.

"Let me guess, Lottie and the bridge club?" she asked.

"Yes," I grumbled. "I didn't even get a tip, because I wasn't working. The poor little guy was accosted when Jennifer stole him," I hugged my son. "I swear, buddy, if I knew she was going to take you over to those crazy old nannies, I wouldn't have let you go." CJ was just patting my face, and Clark let out a chuckle. Apparently, Emma had told Clark about Lottie's fascination with my backside. He found it hilarious. How did I know this? He told me to shake it for Rhonda, and she would give me a twenty.

"Alright, you guys, enough teasing. I risked my backside, saved our boy from the lipstick-slathered grannies and still was victorious. I have the cannoli recipe!" I held it up triumphantly.

"Really?" Emma asked wide-eyed, like I'd just told her I had the Wonka Golden Ticket.

"Yup," I said waving it and headed into the kitchen, preparing to put my culinary expertise to good use. Being a good first officer wasn't the only thing I excelled at. I could totally hold my own in the kitchen. "Now, you all had better be nice, or I won't make any leftovers for later!" I snapped.

I was apparently not scary, because Clark and Rhonda chuckled. I couldn't really find it in me to care, though, because my pregnant wife came in with my son and kissed my lips softly. "Thank you," she whispered.

That was what made it all totally worth it.