“Are you ready?” the ultrasound technician asked as she squeezed out a mound of jell on Emily’s bare stomach. “The baby is a lot bigger than the last time you were here. You’ll be able to see a lot more. I’m just going to be taking a few measurements first.”

I watched, fascinated, as the images of our baby filled the screen.

“You can see the head and the body right here. The heart. It’s beating strong. No abnormalities.” She clicked a few buttons on the machine, and the picture changed again. “The baby is about 10 inches. That’s right on target for twenty weeks. Baby is wiggly today. Are you feeling a lot of movement?”

“A little stronger every day. And yes, the baby never stops moving,” Emily said, still watching as the picture changed once again.

“You might have an athlete on your hand. I bet that comes from dad. There’s a little hand. I’m going to try to get a good picture of the face.”

The technician moved the wand a few times, pressing down under Emily’s belly button. On the screen, a clear image of the baby’s head came into view. And in that moment I saw the first real image of our child, and it was like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. Something inside of me shifted. This was it. This was everything that mattered right there on that screen.

“Two eyes. A nose. Sweet little mouth. Everything looks great. I’ll print this one out for you to keep.” She hit a few more buttons and shifted the wand, pointing out various things on the screen. “That’s the umbilical cord. There’s a foot. Baby has nice long femurs. I bet you’ll have a tall one. You guys did want to know the gender, right?”

Emily looked back at me and nodded, her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. I laced my fingers through hers and said, “Yeah, we want to know.”

“Great. Let’s see if we can get a good look.” She pressed and prodded, trying to get the baby to cooperate. Seconds ticked by as the baby flipped and shifted. I was afraid she was going to give up when she pointed to a white spot on the screen. “There. It looks like you two are having a little boy.”

“A boy,” Emily gasped and covered her mouth.

A son. I didn’t have words for what I was feeling. The technician handed me the printout and all I could do was stare at it. I leaned down and kissed Emily’s forehead, amazed by the sight of the life we’d created together.

* * *

“So Coop junior, huh? I’m not sure the world is ready for two of you,” Ben said and handed back the ultrasound photo. “What does Emily think about having two Reynolds boys running around?”

“She said she didn’t care either way, but I think she really wanted a boy. She has this whole baseball theme planned for the nursery.”

I grabbed the ice pack off the table and put it back on my knee. After the ultrasound this morning, I went for a slow jog around the park, and now my knee was screaming.

Ben looked around my apartment and chuckled. “I see she’s really left her mark here.” He picked up a half-finished baby blanket Emily had been working on and chuckled. “I never thought in a million years you’d end up being the one to settle down.”

I rubbed the back of my neck and shrugged. “Me either. But I wouldn’t take it back. I’m actually really fucking happy.”

“So when should I get one of my agents to list Emily’s place.” He looked around again and frowned. “I assume you guys will be living here, or should I start looking for something bigger?”

“She has to agree to move in with me first.”

“Well, have you asked? The way you guys were on-again, off-again, I doubt she’s just going to assume you want her to move in.”

“Yes, I asked her and she laugh the idea off.”

“Maybe it’s not the right time. Your relationship has been put under a lot of stress. You’re going to be back on the field soon, and that means back on the road. Maybe it is better if both of you keep your places until you figure out how that’s going to work.”

“That’s shitty advice and you better not have spouted that bullshit to her.”

I tossed the ice pack back on the table and got up to get a drink. I really wanted a beer, but even though I wasn't playing, I was still following my behavior clause to the letter. There was no way I’d let them drop me on a technicality.

“I’m just saying you should enjoy the time you have now before it gets complicated with the baby and your travel. Ask her again after the season is over.”

“You don’t get it. It doesn’t matter how complicated things get, this is it for me. I want to marry her. But I’m not sure how I’m going to get her to agree to that if she thinks moving in together is a joke.”

“What did you expect? You don’t exactly exude domesticity. You’ve worn the bad boy reputation like a fucking badge of honor for years. You’re on the road for half the year. Your apartment could be a room in MoMA. You don’t even take care of your own plants.”

“I get it. I was a pretentious asshole that played around. But that doesn’t answer my question. How do I change her mind?”

“I don’t know? Get a dog or something,” he said, helpfully. “Maybe if you show her that you can take care of something else that will help.”

“Great. I’m trying to figure out how to get Emily to marry me, and your best advice is to get a dog. Remind me why I keep you around?”

“She loves you, man. Focus on getting back on the field, and give that other stuff time.”

The problem was, I wasn’t sure I had the luxury of time. While the rookie who was filling in for me didn’t have my stats, he was a solid player. I could feel the vultures in management circling.