Surprise

[BEFORE]

“I’m pregnant,” she stood at the top of the steps looking down on him with one hand warily cupped between her legs.

“What?” His gaze drifted from Monday Night Football.

She released her hand and it fell to side. The site of blood on her hand was alarming, a pool formed on the floor.

“I wanted to say something sooner, I tried, I don’t know, it never felt right.” She shifted her weight from one leg to another and back.

“It’s okay,” he shot from this perch on the couch to be by her side. He wiped one tear from her check just before kissing it and dialing the hospital.

“But….” She looked down at the collection of blood.

“I’m going back and forth between ambulance and driving, I dunno. He eyeballed the blood wondering about the long-term damage to the oak floors.

“No, I can get a pad, let me grab some sweatpants and we’ll go.” She gingerly climbed the steps.

“I can get uber if you insist on a cab,” he talked while tapping the uber app.

“Jesus, I said PAD not TAXI – you know the things that help control the bleeding?”

“Uhm, okay.” He was dazed, but the slight smile on her face as he looked at the blood was hard to ignore. Would she have ever told him? Is this what she wanted? He walked outside to the car and pulled it to the side door.

“Here, put this on the seat,” she handed him a towel before dropping into the passenger seat. 

The drive to the emergency room was painless given the Sunday night traffic. He eyed the passenger seat hoping there was no stain. He whipped into the emergency entrance – wheels screeched to a stop.

“Here you go,” he guided her into a nearby wheelchair into the dimly lit waiting area with a only a few people waiting.

“I’m fine, you can park the car,” she tried to guide the chair herself but finally dropped her hands in her lap as he guided her down the linoleum lined hallway. 

He felt numb as she provided the necessary information to the nurse. Fatherhood was not a foreign concept with a stepson at home, but his own flesh and blood? Would it be a boy or girl? What about names? He turned and examined her and sadness enveloped him.

“You okay?” She reached and patted his hand while leaning toward him.

“Me? What about you? How is the bleeding?” The words left his mouth but he could not remember their formation. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run, but he quietly accompanied her to an exam room.

“It seems to have stopped or least only a trickle at this point.” 

“How long?”

“What? It’s only a few drops since we’ve been here, so much better.” She looked down and pulled back the pad as she talked.

“How far along?” The anger and frustration was percolating just below the surface. He wanted answers now.

“Oh, yeah, right, well I think, let’s see ten weeks? Yeah, twelve is what we discussed at the doctor last week.” She looked up into the fluorescent light while doing the math.

“Doctor? Ten weeks? Seriously?”

....

[AFTER]

“I’m pregnant,” she stood at the top of the steps looking down on him.

“What?” His gaze drifted from Monday Night Football.

She released her hand and held it up to show blood - a puddle formed on the floor.

“I wanted to say something sooner, I don’t know, it never felt right.”

“It’s okay,” he shot from the couch to her side. He wiped one tear away just before kissing her and looking at his phone.

“But….” She looked down at the blood.

“Ambulance or drive, I dunno. He eyeballed the blood wondering about the long-term damage to the floor.

“No, I can get a pad, let me grab some sweatpants and we’ll go.” She disappeared into their bedroom.

“I can get uber” he talked while looking for the uber app.

“Jesus, I said PAD not CAB – you know the things that help with bleeding?”

“Okay.” He was dazed by  the slight smile on her face. Would she have ever told him? Why hadn't she told him? He walked outside to the car and pulled to the side door.

“Here, put this on the seat,” she handed him a towel before dropping into the seat. 

The drive was painless given it was a Sunday night. He eyed the passenger seat before whipping into the emergency entrance.

“Here you go,” he guided her into a nearby wheelchair and then almost empty waiting room.

“I’m fine, you can park the car,” she tried to guide the chair herself but gave up as he guided it down the hallway. 

He felt numb as she talked to the nurse. Fatherhood was not a foreign concept with a stepson at home, but his own flesh and blood? Would it be a boy or girl? What about names? He turned and examined her and sadness overcame him.

“You okay?” She reached and patted his hand.

“Sure, what about you?” The words robotically left his mouth. He always seemed to say the right thing, but he wanted to scream, he wanted to run, but instead quietly accompanied to a room.

“I think the bleeding stopped.” 

“How long?”

“It’s only a few drops since we’ve been here.” She looked down and pulled back the pad while talking.

“How far along?” The anger and frustration was percolating -  he wanted answers.

“Oh, yeah, right, well I think, let’s see ten weeks? Yeah, that is what we discussed at the doctor last week.” She looked up into the fluorescent light while doing the math.

“Doctor? Ten weeks? Seriously?”