CHAPTER TWO
“Do you know the date of your last period?” Doctor West asks, peering over the top of his thin, gold-rimmed glasses that are perched on his pointy nose.
“December twelfth,” I reply.
He takes a circular plastic instrument from the top drawer of his desk and turns one of the inner circles. “Your due date will be September eighteenth, and you’re currently 12 weeks and 5 days pregnant,” he informs me. Even though I was already aware of the dates, hearing my obstetrician confirm it suddenly makes this entire situation feel real. My mum wanted to come today, but I insisted I do it alone. The truth is, whether Dek is in the baby’s life or not, I know I will be doing most of the pregnancy appointments alone anyhow, so I may as well get started now.
Doctor West prescribes me prenatal vitamins and writes out a referral for an ultrasound to confirm my dates before he sends me on my way. In the quiet of my car outside the doctor’s office, I sigh heavily. I haven’t even told Aubree about the baby yet. Of course I told my mum, who told my dad. He called me and reassured me in that way only a daddy can. He promised he was there for me whenever I needed him, and even offered to do up the old log cabin on the farm for me to come and live in. As tempting as the thought of hiding away for the next year or so sounded, I decided to stay in Katherine. I’ve got a good job and great friends. I know Aubree will be a pillar of support when I tell her about the baby. I just think it’s important that Dek knows before I go ahead and tell the world.
The roar of a motorbike zooming past catches my attention, and I take it as sign. I need to find him and break the news. I don’t expect him to be with me, and to be honest, I’m not expecting a great deal of his involvement in the child’s life – he did tell me he wasn’t in the position for anything more than one night of great sex. So I highly doubt he would be in the position for eighteen years of co-parenting.
The drive to the clubhouse doesn’t take long, and soon I’m coming to a stop in front of the familiar chain-link gate. A young guy is standing off to the side, so I climb out of my car and approach him.
“You lost?” he asks.
My eyes widen in surprise.
“Rude,” I mutter under my breath. He gives me a raised brow, so I know he heard me. Whoops. “I’m looking for Dek. Is he around?”
“Don’t know no Dek,” he replies dismissively before turning to walk away.
“He’s a biker here… he was the party a couple months ago. Tall, leather vest, black hair, black eyes,” I rush out.
“There’s no one named Dek here, woman. Now get in your car, and get out of here.” He walks further away, so I run to catch up to him. Gripping his shoulder, I manoeuver my body so I’m in front of him, in his face.
“Look, I need find Dek. It’s important, and you’re not being very helpful. He’s part of this club so I’m sure you know who I’m talking about. Stop being a dick and please just help me out.”
“Listen, little lady,” he snarls, his face turning scary. My heart stops in my chest as he leans down super close to my face. His breath smells like stale tobacco and I fight back the urge to vomit a little. “I told you, there’s no Dek here. So get in your fuckin’ car and fuck off.”
This time when he stomps away, I don’t follow. I go to my car, climb inside, and tear away, spinning the wheels. Why wouldn’t he tell me where Dek was? Why did he say he didn’t know anyone named Dek? Maybe he goes by a different name… like a road name? Do those exist in real life, or just on television?
So many questions. Zero answers.
The bonus of working as an ultrasound technician is I don’t have the usual wait times for an appointment. My colleague, Maria stayed back after we closed to do my scan.
“Are you excited?” Maria asks, squirting the warm jelly onto my lower stomach.
“Nervous,” I answer honestly.
“Let’s have a look then.” She places the Doppler on my stomach, and within seconds, I make out the image inside of me. “Okay, I’ll just take some measurements and then we’ll listen to the heartbeat and see if we can get you some pictures.”
“Thanks again for doing this, Maria,” I say softly, my voice full of gratitude.
“Don’t mention it,” she replies kindly.
I watch intently as Maria precisely measure my baby’s limbs, head, organs, and overall length. She also takes note of the thickness of the nuchal translucency, which, combined with the results of the bloods I had taken earlier today, will provide information on whether or not my child has disabilities, like Down’s Syndrome. It wouldn’t matter either way to me, but I would like to know in advance so I can be prepared.
When Maria is done with the important stuff, she flicks a button and the thump, thump of the baby’s heartbeat fills my ears. It’s a sound I’ve heard many times before, but it has never been my child’s heart beating. Warm tears fill my eyes as I listen to the steady rhythm.
“It’s got a good heartbeat,” Maria mentions. “Look at that face!” she says, as the image on the screen focuses in on a perfect profile shot.
“Aw, she has a button nose like me,” I murmur.
“You think it’s a girl?”
I shrug. “I don’t know what I think,” I say through a light laugh. “I just don’t like calling her an ‘it’.”
“My friend’s daughter had a baby shower on the weekend, and she announced the sex of the baby to everyone by cutting the cake. The inside layers were blue and pink. She’s having twins!”
“Oh my, she’ll have her hands full.” I chuckle. “That’s a great way to do it! I’ve heard of people opening a big box filled with balloons, and when they fly out, they’re either pink or blue.”
Maria prints me off some pictures and hands them to me along with some paper towels to wipe off my stomach. “Get cleaned up and I’ll meet you out in the waiting room.”
Maria and I lock up the clinic and walk out into the parking lot together before going our separate ways. I drive toward my apartment before realising that I’m really hungry and can’t be bothered cooking. I call through an order of Chinese and pick it up before continuing home.