"And I'm his girlfriend," Kinsley adds with a smile.
Brittney glares at us. "Can we have her removed?"
Melissa blinks. "Um, yes. Client confidentiality is a high priority for us. If you don't want them here, we can certainly take care of that." She looks at me like she expects me to walk out of the room.
I put my arm around Kinsley. "That's fine. We can go."
"No. You can stay. I just want her to go." Brittney pouts.
Kinsley gives me a little head shake telling me not to make a scene. I meet her gaze, and we have a private conversation without speaking. I know she wants the video, and we need due dates for her to plug into her timeline, but I'm not doing this without her.
Melissa clears her throat and shifts her feet. "Ma'am?" she asks Kinsley.
I hold up our joined hands. "If she goes, I go. Which we can do." I make a move to leave and Brittney groans.
"Fine.” She flicks her hand at us and huffs. “She can stay. Ijust want to see the baby."
Melissa's eyes go wide, but she recovers quickly. "Okay then. Well, let's see what we can find out today."
Kinsley and I settle into the chairs against the wall and wait. My stomach is twisted up, and I don't know what to expect. I’m not sure how I’m going to feel seeing this baby on the screen.
Kit said she’d bet the farm Brittney made the whole thing up. She’s been scouring social media for pregnancy pics of Brittney and didn’t see any until after Brittney announced the baby at the party. Now Brittney’s feed is full of them.
I have to take Kit’s word for it because I’m not going anywhere near Brittney’s socials.
Brittney scoots into the exam table. “Will we be able to tell if it’s a boy or girl?”
Melissa nods her head as she helps Brittney lift up her top and expose her belly. “Probably. Sometimes the baby is a little shy but that’s only happened a couple of times. Have you started buying clothing and things?”
Brittney grins. “Just a couple outfits. Mom said she always knew I was a girl, but I don’t have any premonitions.”
“That’s totally normal. Most first-time moms don’t. Some of my patients that have had multiple children say they can tell by how much morning sickness they have or what cravings they experience; but it takes several pregnancies to establish patterns like that.”
Brittney leans back and Melissa presses several buttons and turns a dial.
I have to give Brittney some credit for not letting the tension in the room affect her excitement about seeing the baby. There's something pure about the way she's staring atthe ultrasound machine, like nothing else matters except what's about to appear on that screen.
Melissa squirts gel on Brittney's belly and then moves the wand thing all over to smear the gel. The screen fills with gray and black shapes that don't look like much of anything to me.
"There's the head, and here's the spine..." Melissa's voice gets softer.
The image shifts, and suddenly I'm looking at a tiny human being. Complete with fingers and toes and a face that looks almost ready to open its eyes and look back at me.
I hold my breath. If this is my kid—if somehow, despite not remembering that night, this little person exists because of me—then my whole world changes.
Brittney gasps. "My baby. My baby," she whispers over and over again as tears start to fall.
"Let's see if we can get some measurements," Melissa says, clicking buttons and drawing lines across the screen. "Based on the size... looks like you're about twenty-eight weeks along. Due date would be..." She punches some numbers into her computer. "January fifteenth."
I feel Kinsley stiffen beside me.
January 15th. I count backwards nine months in my head. Thanks to Doc, we have a medical record of the night I took the pain pills—including the date.
Kinsley pulls out my phone and her fingers fly. She’s got some kind of pregnancy calculation website open, plugging in dates. When she looks up, there's something fierce and satisfied in her expression.
"The conception date doesn't match," she says loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, showing me herphone. "Not even close. Conception happened months before your accident. Brittney was past her first trimester when you took those pills. You're not the father. You couldn’t be."
Relief floods through me so fast it makes me dizzy. Not my kid. Not my life tied forever to a woman I don't love.