Her Billionaires(121)

“Now you’re turning me on.” The laugh did make her nearly pee, giving her a few fleeting seconds of amusement, shifting away from worry. A knock, then her midwife came in, followed by the tech.

Fuck.

“Sherri? What are you doing here. They said this was just a routine screening and I wouldn’t see you.” What she wanted to say was Go away! Nothing’s wrong Nothing can be wrong so go away and let me not hear what you’re about to say! but something in her knew that wasn’t the case. She gripped Josie’s hand like she was drowning.

Josie gripped back.

Sherri’s eyes were kind but guarded, wrinkles forming everywhere as she smiled. Somewhere in her sixties, she had a relaxed, natural look to her, with dark brown eyes, tanned skin and long, gray hair braided in a thick rope that stretched over her ass. Today she wore a loose, flowing jacket over a tank top and a long skirt, an outfit not unlike many in Laura’s closet.

“The tech just asked me to take a quick look at something.” Her voice was smooth and practiced. Josie nodded, eyes on Laura, her professional nurse face in overdrive. They were all hiding something from Laura, and she did not like this one bit. Sherri introduced herself to Josie and they shook hands in a perfunctory way.

The midwife and tech put their heads together and murmured medical terms Laura strained to hear. She really was about to explode, her vagina starting to pulsate—and not the good kind of pulsating.

“I need to pee!” she whispered to Josie. How banal, to have such an insignificant need in the middle of what could be the worst news she’d ever heard in her life. Yet nature called.

The tech and Sherri pulled back, the tech leaving the room. Sherri’s hand was warm and gentle on Laura’s shoulder. “First, the baby is healthy according to our basic measurements.”

A huge, loud sigh poured out of Laura, like a yoga breath. “Thank God.”

“But it’s a bit complicated.”

No!

“Right now, you’re on the high end of amniotic fluid. There’s a condition called polyhydramnios—it literally means excessive amniotic fluid. Your measurements show you are at the low end of having this condition, which means the fetus is just floating in all that fluid, like an overstuffed balloon.”

“Are you sure that’s not just my bladder?”

Sherri laughed and reached out to grip Laura’s hand. “Why don’t you go and empty that poor, overstretched balloon and we can talk more. All the images we need are done.”

Laura started to get up and stopped. “The sex?”

Sherri cocked her head and made a face of surprise. “Oh! James didn’t get to that before he found me. You want to know?”

“Yes!” she and Josie practically shouted.

Chuckle. “Well, then, if you can bear it, lean back again and let’s look.”

Groaning, Laura complied, the pressure to urinate overwhelming her mind and body. This was crucial, though. Boy or girl? She’d wanted to know since the day the test said PREGNANT.

More gel. Wand. Gouging (not really, but it felt like it). Jiggle. “Why are you jiggling?” And then she knew, as the baby moved and shifted, trying to get away.

“Well, this is not an exact science.” Josie snorted. Sherri made a self-deprecating gesture. “I am, though, ninety percent certain it’s a girl.”

Girl.

“I don’t see the telltale penis I’d expect to see. Just the umbilical cord. The only time we’re certain is at the birth.”

Girl. Laura had imagined the baby was a girl since day one. She was right. It really was. Mother’s instinct always knew, right?

“Are you OK, Laura?” Sherri asked.

She shook herself out of her own thoughts and grinned. “I assumed it was a girl. I was right.” She stuck her tongue out at Josie, who had teased her she was wrong.

“You and Josie are having a baby girl,” Sherri said, looking at them both with great joy.

Hold up. “Me and Josie?”

“Awkward,” Josie said out of one side of her mouth. She addressed Sherri. “Um, we’re not—” she said, pointing between her and Laura.

“Oh, no! No, we’re not a couple!” Laura added.

“If I were into women, Laura’s totally not my type,” Josie added helpfully.

Hey, now. “What does that mean?” Laura cried out, indignant.

Sherri cut them both off, her face red with embarrassment. “I certainly did not mean to start an argument, and I apologize for my assumption. And Laura, you did mention that the father isn’t part of the picture—”

“Fathers,” Josie muttered. Laura cut her a glare that would kill Medusa. Sherri clicked a few buttons on the machine and printed some pictures, handing them to Laura. On slick fax paper, they were the most beautiful photos she had ever seen in her entire life, even if her baby did resemble something from a government archive in an episode of The X Files.