Chapter 6 -- Settling down, heating up.
I lazed in bed, trying to indulge in a few more minutes of doing not much of anything. I was 12 weeks and 1 day pregnant; Keiji and I had an appointment with the perinatologist for a nuchal translucency test in an hour. My first trimester blood work showed no cause for concern, but I was still a bit nervous. I couldn't wait to see the baby again, to see him or her moving, to have proof of the cause of my frequent toilet rendezvous.
Keiji was circling the room, scowling.
"What are you looking for?" I asked.
"My stupid deodorant. Maybe I forgot to pack it," he grumbled. He rummaged in his backpack again.
"You can use some of mine," I offered. "Maybe it's time for you to get a second set of everything? Or your own drawer or something? You're here a lot."
"I don't know if I want to go my interview smelling like--" he paused to read my deodorant's label "'Ooh-la-la lavender.' Where do they come up with this shit?"
"I don't know, it was on sale," I laughed. "But I'm serious. Can you sublet your place? My house is closer to your office anyway."
"My office? I haven't gotten the job yet," he said, rubbing the stick on his armpits.
"Keiji, it's a third interview. They love your work. You have years of experience. Don't fart and you're a shoe-in," I said, swinging my feet to the floor. He paused to watch me, an admiring look on his face. "Ugh, come on, I look like the pregnant Bride of Frankenstein right now." I patted my bed head and looked down at my heavy breasts and protruding belly.
"I always thought she was kind of sexy. Um. But. Are you serious? I mean about me moving in?"
"Of course I'm serious. What, were we all going to move into the loft? Or shuffle the baby back and forth? You can have nights, how's that sound?" I walked to the closet and started searching for the day's outfit. He smirked.
"I was sort of waiting for you to raise the issue. Didn't want to uh, invite myself over or anything. Can you help me button these cuffs?" he asked, holding his arms out stiffly. It was the first time I had seen Keiji in a plain, white shirt. He hadn't cut his hair since we met and it was long enough now to brush his collar. As usual, I thought he looked thoroughly fuckable. I laid my clothes down on the bed and crossed the room to him, going to work on the tiny buttons. When I finished I pressed my naked body against him, regretful that we had slept in too late to leave time for any morning recreation.
"I think we're past the point of you needing an invitation," I murmured, caressing the semi-erection I had raised. "Are you coming back here after you're done today?"
"Um," he said, swaying on his feet a bit. Then he laughed and took a step back from me. "I can't think when you do that. I have to stop by my place and get a few supplies, but yes. I can come over if you want."
"I want. Hm. Where would you work here? There's this room, Evan's, the guest room which I had pegged for the nursery...maybe the attic? It's got a window, with pretty good light. We'd have to get some A/C up there for you, though."
"Artists are inspired by harsh conditions," he said, jutting his chin in the air as he knotted his tie. I smiled and started getting dressed.
"Well, I'm no artist. I've already got a caffeine-withdrawal headache and I can't stand it. Can you start the coffee?" I'd weaned myself to a cup a day, but I absolutely needed that cup.
"Yes, ma'am."
***
We must have been in luck because we didn't spend forty-five minutes in the waiting room. Although he put on a calm face for anything concerning the baby, I could tell Keiji was nervous as he flipped through the folder he'd created for his interview. He was pursuing a design position at a small ad agency; it would be a creatively demanding job and the clients were hip up-and-comers. I grasped his hand, shooting him a small smile.
"Cara Brennan?" a voice called. I looked up and saw a pretty woman in purple scrubs. She smiled as we approached her. "Hi, my name is Inés. I'll be your ultrasound technician today. Is this your first ultrasound?"
"No, we've been in before for a dating exam," I said.
"Okay, so you know the drill. This time it won't be transvaginal, though."
"That's a relief," I said. The last time Keiji had been alternately impressed and disconcerted by what he termed "the dildo cam."
"And you are Daddy?" she asked, addressing Keiji.
"Yes," he said, with a shy grin. "Still getting used to that." She smiled back.
"It takes a little while, even if you were expecting it."
She led us into a dim exam room. Keiji helped me lay down on the table while Inés entered my information into the ultrasound machine.
"Okay, let's see your baby," she said. I pulled up my shirt and she tucked a towel around the waistband of my pants. She squirted warm gel on my belly and placed the wand on top, gooing me up. Keiji and I watched a small screen mounted on the wall, enraptured. At first I could only make out a foggy image of my uterus; Inés changed the angle of the wand and suddenly there was a spine filling the screen. She laughed.
"Looks like we're getting a cold shoulder. C'mon kiddo, cooperate." She pressed the wand into my abdomen a bit. Suddenly, the baby flipped on its side -- a much bigger and more deliberate movement than we had seen a month ago with the wee gummy bear. Keiji gasped.
"Did you feel that?" he asked.
"Nope," I said, still watching the screen. Now I could see a beating heart. Inés documented the heart rate and let us listen; it was just as mesmerizing at the first time. Then she zoomed in on the baby's head and neck.
"What a cutie," she said.
"That is one adorable cranium," Keiji agreed. I laughed, jiggling the image.
"Hey, hold still. Same goes for you, Baby. I'm going to start taking nuchal measurements now," Inés scolded.
"What exactly do these measurements show, again?" I asked. I hadn't had this scan with Evan.
"Well, since you are 'advanced maternal age,' haha, sorry, you have an increased risk for chromosomal abnormalities. Measuring the soft tissues in the baby's neck can help us identify if there is a problem in combination with the first trimester blood tests," Inés explained.
The room got quiet as she took still photos of the baby and measured the relevant parts. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until she spoke again.
"Looks good to me. I'll send the results to the doctor and he'll be in shortly. But before that, I'll take a look at the rest of the baby and get you a few pictures."
"Can you tell the sex yet?" I asked her.
"No!" Keiji cried.
"What?"
"I don't want to know!"
"Well, it's hard to tell at this point anyway," Inés said, grinning.
"You seriously don't want to find out?" I asked.
"No way! Don't ruin the surprise!" he said, shaking his head emphatically.
"Oh my gosh, Keiji," I grumbled, not really put out but still taken aback by his strong opinion. Inés was amused.
"I have lots of couples who are split on this issue. If I see you guys at your next ultrasound, around 18 weeks or so, I can put the results in an envelope for you and you can open it later. Or not. But be warned, if one person knows it's a
really
tough secret to keep."
Inés took several photos of the baby for us; a hand (SO cute!), a profile shot, the spine, a full body shot, and a frontal picture of the face that Keiji said reminded him of the Terminator.
"Don't compare your baby to a merciless robot of death," I laughed.
"It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear," he quoted. Inés's laughter joined mine.
"Yeah, that sounds like a newborn baby to me all right. Here are your pictures," she said, handing me the roll of paper from the ultrasound machine. As she left us in the room alone we pored over the photos together.
"I can't believe how different things are in just a month -- like a complete, tiny person already. Look at the five fingers, so amazing," he said, lightly touching the photo.
"I know. Just wait until they're pulling your hair."
***
After the doctor confirmed that the baby looked "perfectly healthy," I dropped Keiji off at his interview, made plans to pick him up at his place around six, and continued to my office. Even though it was still early on, I had already told my coworkers about the pregnancy. My belly was unmistakable, no sense in beating around the bush. I was preparing my team for my maternity leave and shifted control of several clients over to my most reliable managers. After his initial discomfort, Adam became quite friendly, even stopping in with small treats for me now and then -- Preggie Pops ("My sister said these are great!"), chocolates, etc. I didn't want to encourage anything inappropriate but I always thanked him. It was far better to be on good terms.
I texted Keiji during the middle of the day to ask about the interview; he replied back, "Paint." This meant he was working on a piece, in the zone, but it could also mean that he was putting my question off on purpose. I hoped he had good news. Before we discussed him moving in with me he brought up the need for a stable job. His proceeds from his independent commissions were enough to get him by, but he wasn't able to save much and income was sporadic. I agreed, gently encouraging him to get in touch with his old advertisement contacts. In spite of the rough economy his reputation and portfolio landed him a few bites.
Before I left the office I called Evan to see if he wanted to join Keiji and I for a Friday night dinner out. He'd been super busy with drama commitments and a week full of tests. He was still a bit stiff with both of us, but as time passed and he saw Keiji outside of his old context he seemed to be coming around. Evan picked the place -- a favorite pizza joint -- and I told him I'd see him in a little less than an hour. First I drove to Keiji's; he saved me the hassle of finding a parking space by waiting on the street, portfolio under his arm and pack on his back. He was still wearing his white shirt, but had lost the tie, undone several buttons, and switched the suit jacket for a black fleece. I popped the trunk and he stashed his stuff, then slid into the passenger's seat blowing into his hands to warm them. He looked tired and there was a splotch of grey paint in his hair.
"So? You're killing me here," I said as I pulled away from the curb. He looked away, then back at me. My heart sank. I knew he was up against at least two other people. Well, at least there were the other positions to look into...
"I got it," he said, breaking into a smile, very pleased with his deception.
