Walking on Broken Glass - Christa Allan [119]
Molly picked up a little drum. “No, you can’t play with that either,” I said.
“She's no fun,” said Molly.
“I hope that's a pretend pout or no Snickers Blizzard for you on the way home. And, to answer your question, Dr. Nolan, I don’t know. I’m not feeling like I did with Alyssa. Maybe I don’t remember feeling swollen. ”
“Um-hm. Hm. Yes.” Dr. Nolan scanned and looked at the ultrasound screen. The probe glided through the gel like a rollerball.
She scanned the screen. “What do you think, Molly?”
Molly squinted, tilted her head from right to left, poked the screen, and then leaned in. “Well, I’m not really sure.” She reached for my hand. “I think I’d have to say, based on the equipment, a girl?”
I closed my eyes as I felt the sting of bittersweet joy. God, I don’t want to cry in this room with my very best friend who is desperately trying to have a baby. I opened my eyes wide and hoped nothing would drip out.
“Can you do this?” Molly knew. I didn’t have to pretend to be brave.
I tapped Dr. Nolan's arm. “My turn.”
“Now, wait a minute.” She turned the monitor toward me. “Tell me what you think.” The probe skated across my tummy again.
“Molly, you either need glasses or biology class. That looks like a boy,” I said.
“Well, well,” Dr. Nolan said, and gently squeezed my arm. “God is quite the character. When He tells you all things are possible, you’d better listen, sister.” She set the probe down, stripped off her gloves, and grabbed one of my hands and one of Molly's. “You’re both right. Twins.”
Somehow between the hysterical teary-eyed blubbering and the spontaneous open-mouthed giggling, we made it to my car.
Dr. Nolan practically had to kick us out of her office. “No more baby viewing. Buy your own ultrasound machine. I hear tell some of those Hollywood types have. The Thorntons could buy one for every room in their house. Now take these pictures.” She handed them all to Molly. “Leah, you make an appointment for when Mr. Man's in town. Having two babies is a new game.”
In the car we called Carl, Devin, my dad, Peter, my in-laws. They all had the same reaction: stunned silence followed by questions, screeches of excitement, and more questions. I also called the staff at Brookforest and Rebecca with the same results. Carl wanted to drive home that afternoon. I reassured him I could email the pictures. Otherwise, I looked the same.
“Gloria's probably already calling Ivy League schools to find out if they can get a discount,” said Molly. She volunteered to drive my car home, so I could start multiplying by two.
“Glad I had that brilliant idea to get in touch with the contractor,” I said. “Now we have to figure out where these babies are … Babies.” My heart pounded with grateful disbelief. “Babies, Molly. I’m having ba-bies. Can you believe it?”
“It's so incredible. God is good, isn’t He?”
Her eyes were fixed on the Post Oak Road traffic, but I knew that hard stare was not simply concentration. “Molly, you’re so right. God is good. He put you in my life, and you’ve saved me over and over again. I feel like I can never repay you. I pray for you and Devin all the time. Your blessing will come, too, I know it. Little Molly and Devin babies …”
She held up her hand, “Stop. No little babies.”
“But, Molly, you and Devin will go back to in vitro or you could adopt. A private adoption.”
Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Leah,” her voice was raspy, “we postponed in vitro because … because I have breast cancer.”
“Believe me, this isn’t what I had in mind for telling you. It was too much to hide, especially when you’d go for broke talking about babies.” She said, “But you’re my crazy best friend, and I expect that from you.”
We stopped about forty-two seconds after Molly dropped the news because I threatened to throw up if she didn’t. We still sat in the car in the parking lot of a nail salon, a dry cleaners, and