Later
Kerry's House
“If you’re trying to be funny,” she warned, rolling her eyes at her own lame attempt at sounding stern. Kerry had one hand in the popcorn bowl and in the other, she held the movie box for Nine Months. “Cute, real cute, Carter.”
He chuckled as the video began, and returned to his seat beside her on the couch, throwing an arm across her shoulders. “You need cheering up, and comedy…”
“This isn’t a pity party, Carter – John. I don’t do pity parties.” Her insecurities broke througfh as she spoke.
“I don’t pity you, Kerry, you’re a good friend – the best – and I intend for it to remain that way. Friends help each other out and cheer each other up, correct?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, finally satisfied with the explanation as the previews ended. “Thanks.” She was relieved but almost deflated, something inside felt sort of twisted at the word ‘friend’, but she opted to ignore it again. She flipped her better leg beneath her and leaned against Carter’s side, reclaiming the popcorn bowl and commenting, “I really hope this isn’t some sort of omen. A comedy of errors leading up to, you know, the end of it.” Kerry gestured with a hand full of popcorn before lifting it to her mouth.
He watched the kernels slide past her lips and groaned to himself, mind being led in directions for which he knew she’d kill him for following. Mentally scolding himself, he asked, “You’ve seen this one?”
“No, it’s on the back of the box, Carter,” she chuckled at his disappointed expression even as she attempted to mock him. After a moment, she continued, “It’s going to be a long six months,” she eyed the blue and yellow papers that had been delivered earlier in the evening and were now sitting on the end table. ‘Alone,’ she added mentally.
As if he had heard her thoughts, Carter took her hands and smiled as the first scene opened on the screen before them. “You’ve got friends, Kerry, you won’t be alone unless you want to be.”
She reflexively squeezed back and smiled up at him, “Thank you,” she repeated. “I don’t want to be.” Her words were quiet in a less than obvious attempt at refusing her vulnerability again, openly, and she knew he hadn’t heard, for his eyes never deviated from the screen.
But he had, and he smiled, vowing silently, “I’m here. I’ll always be here…”
---
“I’d warn that this will be cold, but I believe you’re aware of that,” Nancy grinned toward her patient, who was anxiously awaiting the real-time image that would soon arrive on the screen. Her child, her baby. She’d see her son or daughter for the first time, then, and she felt a hand close over hers as she nodded to the doctor.
Carter stood over, smiled, and then sat in the stool the doctor motioned toward. Leaning toward her ear, he whispered, “I know you didn’t ask me to be here, but we were talking about your appointment earlier, and I checked your calendar for the time. It’s pretty slow downstairs, anyway,” he lied, “and I thought I might want to be here, you know, see my niece or nephew for the first time.” His grin was boyish, kind, beautiful to her as she smiled worriedly up at him. “Is it okay?”
“Fine, Carter,” she replied, silently glad that he’d opted to join her. They’d spent the night before discussing possible complications that could result from the amniocentesis she knew her OB-GYN would think necessary. After agonizing for several hours and listening to arguments from both sides, Kerry and Carter had jointly agreed that perhaps the amnio was necessary, at least giving information that could potentially save the child’s life. The doctor in her knew that it wasn’t a medical necessity, but still was advisable because of her somewhat advanced age. The mother in her kept thinking, “I’d know if something was wrong with my baby, wouldn’t I? Oh God, what if something’s wrong with my baby?” and so the two balanced each other out well, and Carter had hugged her when she’d finally acquiesced to his way of thinking.
Of course, he planned to keep her on her back for at least the twenty-four hours after the test, doing stupid little things unlike what had originally and unashamedly flashed through her mind when he’d first announced his intentions. Read books, watch movies, listen to her extremely loud music a little bit lower than normal, tell childhood stories, play cat’s cradle or strip poker, whatever, he’d informed her, would make her happy or keep her calmly occupied. He’d grinned when he’d said strip poker, and she’d laughed aloud at the thought, but both had filed it away for later suggestions, as neither had thought it was quite so amusing as to be impossible. She was falling in love with him, because he wanted to be a father and he was a father to her baby, and he was so attentive to them in his gentler moments, and because despite it all, he really seemed to care, to hold affections toward her. And though she never thought he’d love her back, he had for longer than either of them could have expected.
It was in moments like those, he’d think later, when the image of her child, their child, first came into view on the screen and she’d begun to cry as his eyes welled with tears, that he knew he loved her, and nothing else seemed to matter except the three of them.
“You’re beautiful,” he’d whispered into her ear after the technician handed Carter a towel to wipe the gel from her slightly swollen stomach and left the room. He’d touched her, reverently with the towel, doing as instructed, and her eyes had widened as she watched him, heard his words, and a blush spread across her cheeks as he offered his hand and pulled her to a seated position. She’d moved to lower her shirt then, but he’d stopped her, setting a hand fully against her stomach, smiling up at her as he leaned closer, and spoke to the child for the first time.
Yes, Kerry’d decided then, John Carter would make an excellent father. Someday soon, she thought, and someday soon, she hoped.
“Amniocentesis is in four weeks,” she’d told him then, and he’d lowered her shirt for her and smiled at her reassuringly as he mentally carded the date and time, vowing to be there to hold her hand. And shortly afterward, when they’d arrived in the ER again, they’d let the others’ hand go, become doctors again, and been swept into the whirlwind of activity that Carter had denied.
