Bain
Kiera’s OB-GYN’s office is not what I expected. It’s not clinical or sterile like other doctors’ offices I’ve been in but rather warm and inviting. It’s a space that’s deliberately designed to be calming. Walls painted in soothing blues and greens, nature-themed art on the walls, the space lit with only natural sunlight through big windows and small table lamps scattered about. If I didn’t know it was a doctors’ office, I would have thought it was a spa.
The receptionist is efficient but warm as she has Kiera fill out some basic forms. Her fingers fly over the keyboard as she takes information down. I stand beside Kiera and glance out over the lobby, filled with couples like us and several women who are alone. I wonder if they’re pregnant and their partner isn’t here or maybe they’re just here for the regular yearly checkup.
Honest to God, I didn’t know what that entailed, but as Kiera and I were researching the upcoming appointment and what would occur, she sort of educated me on Pap smears and I was horrified. I mean, I knew women had them, but I didn’t know about tables and stirrups and what sounds like a torture device Kiera called a speculum.
After she’s checked in, Kiera and I sit together on a small sofa. There’s a coffee table and I’m a bit cramped, but it’s all good as Kiera leans her weight into me. I glance around, observing the other couples. Some are fidgeting while others chat quietly. The married couple adjacent to us are discussing baby names, which is something they need to decide soon as she’s very, very pregnant. They’re called by the nurse and the husband stands first and has to help his wife up from her chair. I bite back my grin, knowing I’ll relish doing that for Kiera one day because she’ll hate needing the help.
I get a few looks from some of the men here, likely trying to determine if they recognize me. I wore a khaki baseball cap with an Audi logo on it. No clue where I got it from because I’ve never had an Audi, but it was in my closet with about a hundred other caps I’ve collected. I steered clear of anything with a Titans or Vengeance logo, though, as I prefer not to get recognized here.
Kiera flips through a magazine, the picture of serene contentment. She hasn’t seemed anxious about this appointment, but I’m not sure she’d admit it if she was. She likes to showcase her resilience and independence. I, on the other hand, am a buzzing mixture of nerves and anticipation. My heel rhythmically taps on the carpet as I wait to see the miracle of life I helped create.
Twisting her neck to look at me, she nods down to my bouncing leg. “Nervous?”
“No,” I lie.
Her grin tells me she doesn’t buy it for one second, but she doesn’t call me on my bullshit, instead going back to her magazine. I resist the urge to brush a lock of hair behind her ear, just like I resist the urge to pull her in closer. Every day that goes by, I seem to want more of her.
Last night after we put the Vipers away, the team went to Mario’s. There were wild cheers and applause when we walked in, but I tuned it all out. Despite riding the thrill of the win, all I really wanted was to see Kiera.
She was already there with the other women waiting for us. They all stood around a few tables laughing. Kiera’s so fucking beautiful when she laughs and I stopped just to stare at her until Camden plowed into me.
It was hilarious to find all the women wearing matching T-shirts. Jenna had them made and they’ve officially proclaimed themselves as the “Titan Queens,” their new title emblazoned on the front breast pocket. The back reads “The real power behind the Titans” and I roared with laughter when I saw it.
But I also paid attention to the weird sensation of possession flowing through me. I slipped my hand behind Kiera’s neck and pulled her closer so I could whisper, “I’m going to take that shirt and have my name and number put on the back.”
I’ll never forget the look she gave me. I’ve watched a myriad of expressions cross over Kiera’s face since we first met. I’ve seen lust, humor, fear, passion, sadness and utter calm. But last night when I told her I wanted my name on her shirt, there was a blaze of joy within a breathtaking smile laced with hopefulness.
It was a silent message that she was looking forward to a future with me the way I was with her. I made her happy and I was struck by a realization that I wanted to make her feel like that, always.
At Mario’s, we were an unmistakable couple and it was an absolute new experience for me. Kiera, with her warm smile and sparkling eyes, had been a part of the team, but as my friend, not my girlfriend. For me, a player who had never taken relationships seriously, to have her beside me, to have my arm draped around her, it just felt right.
I took ribbing from some of the guys. Kirill was gleeful in giving me good-natured shit. “Bain, always scoring on and off the ice.”
I laughed along with them and accepted bro hugs. Hendrix clapped me on the shoulder and squeezed. “I didn’t think you had it in you, man. But I think you’ll make a hell of a dad.”
And the guys… they were good with Kiera. They congratulated her, pulled her into bear hugs, already referring to our unborn child as the newest little member of the team. I loved seeing that, watching her blush, the way she’d laugh, the happiness radiating from her.
The whole night was surreal. I’d transitioned from a playboy to a man deeply connected to a woman. It was a full one hundred and eighty degree change from who I used to be and I have no self-recrimination from straying so far from my hard-core single values. Kiera makes me want to embrace the change.
“Ms. McGinn.” I blink out of my reverie as Kiera stands. I scramble up after her and she reaches out her hand for me to take.
A nurse with a friendly smile leads us down a hallway. It’s decorated with the same calming colors and along the walls are pictures of the babies the doctors here have delivered. Each step I take makes my heart pound with a little more anticipation.
The first stop is a small alcove with a built-in desk where a laptop sits. The nurse records Kiera’s blood pressure and weight, then hands her a cup for a urine sample. I lean against the wall to wait.
The nurse ignores me and types into her laptop. When Kiera returns, we’re led into the exam room and my eyes are immediately drawn to the table with the stirrups that Kiera had described to me.
Handing Kiera a gown, the nurse says, “Only need to disrobe from the waist down.”
“Because we’ll be doing a transvaginal ultrasound?” Kiera asks.
“That’s right. It will give us the best picture at this early stage.”
When the nurse exits, Kiera moves to the corner where there’s a small bench with hooks on the wall for her clothing. I move to the sleek exam table covered with crisp white paper and examine the stirrups.
“This is giving me all kinds of dirty ideas,” I muse.
Kiera snorts and I glance over at her to see her shimmying out of her jeans. Ordinarily, that’s all it would take to get my dick hard, but not here. Not in this environment. I’m all about the pregnancy experience.
I move to one of the guest chairs and prop an ankle on the opposite knee. We’re silent as Kiera shrugs into a robe that ties on the side. She starts to move past toward the table, but I grab her hand, tugging her to me.
She doesn’t fight me but allows me to drag her onto my lap where I hold her loosely. Placing my chin on her shoulder, I ask, “You nervous?”
“Little bit.”
“Shit’s getting real,” I murmur.
“So real,” she agrees quietly and tilts her head to rest against mine.
That’s how Dr. Segal finds us when he knocks on the door and walks in. He’s a short man, probably in his late fifties but incredibly fit looking. He’s got dark curly hair with a bit of gray sparsely mixed throughout. A pair of black-framed glasses perch on the end of his nose and his smile is easygoing.
“Ms. McGinn… it’s good to see you again.”
“You too, Dr. Segal.” Kiera stands from my lap and I stand along with her, holding my hand out.
As we shake, I introduce myself. “Bain Hillridge.”
“Nice to meet—” Dr. Segal jolts and his eyes narrow at me, trying to see past the ball cap. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to cross paths with a Titan today. Great game last night.”
“Thanks,” I say, and I expect him to want to talk about it or even get a picture. Instead, he turns and gives all his attention to Kiera.
“Go ahead and hop up on the table,” he says, moving to the sink to wash his hands.
I move to Kiera’s side as she lays back. Dr. Segal moves to the end and locks out the stirrups. “Slide down a bit more,” he says as he sits on a stool and rolls right on up between my girl’s legs.
I have a moment of distinct discomfort and my hands fist, but I take in Dr. Segal’s clinical expression as he doesn’t even look at her there yet. Instead, he pulls the ultrasound machine over and explains the test.
He shows Kiera the ultrasound wand and then covers it with a medical condom and lube. It’s thin, the end a little bulbous, but it’s quite long.
Way longer than my dick.
I take her hand and she squeezes as the doctor inserts it into her vagina. I wince but Kiera doesn’t even flinch.
She’s a stoic person, though, so I ask the doctor, “Does that hurt her?”
“It doesn’t,” Kiera said, her head tilted to look up at me. “Weird, but not painful.”
Dr. Segal uses his free hand to press down on her lower belly a little and then makes an adjustment on the computer. He rotates the wand and the screen is filled with a gray, hazy static that looks exactly like nothing.
But then I see it. Just briefly… a large black circle, then it’s gone.
Then it’s back again, much clearer.
“That’s the gestational sack,” Dr. Segal says, and my heart hammers in my chest. “And that small gray area is the yolk sac.”
It’s so small, no bigger than a bean. “And that’s our baby?” I ask incredulously.
“Sure is. Let’s listen to the heartbeat.” Dr. Segal taps a few keys and then the room is filled with a fast, rhythmic pattering.
I glance at Kiera. Her eyes are as round as saucers and I know mine look no different.
“Why’s it so fast?” Kiera asks the doctor.
“The fetal heart rate at this stage can be between 100 and 180 beats per minute.”
“It’s like a hummingbird’s wings,” Kiera says in awe and emotion clogs my throat. That’s the perfect way to describe it.
I lean over and brush my lips over her forehead. I’ve never felt closer to a human being in my life and it’s all due to the miracle flickering on the computer screen. That’s both me and Kiera, thriving against all odds.
It’s pure magic.
“I’d say date of conception was around January 1, which means your due date will be September 24. Although it could be a few days before or a few days after.”
“Holy shit,” I wheeze. That’s this year. Just months away.
Dr. Segal grins at me, then Kiera. “Congratulations.”
We walk out of the doctors’ office hand in hand with a picture of the ultrasound in Kiera’s purse. I already snapped it with my phone as we were checking out and sent it to my parents and brother.
“What do you think about grabbing a few nights’ worth of clothes and come stay at my place?” I ask.
Kiera’s been to my place before and she’s stayed the night, but we mostly have settled into a routine at her house.
“Sure,” she says because she’s easygoing that way.
“It’s closer to the arena and we have a game tomorrow, then the memorial the day after, which will be there. Save us some driving.”
“That it would.”
We play the Denver Blue Devils tomorrow and then the day after that is the twentieth—the first anniversary of the crash. A remembrance celebration has been planned at the arena. It’s a given that Kiera and I will go together after we talked about it earlier this week.
I push that out of my head, though. That’s two days away and I don’t want that dragging me down from my high of seeing my kid in Kiera’s belly.