Page 41 of Possessed Silverfox
“Not really, except I’ve been nauseous lately. Do you have any tips for that?”
“Yes! Anything with ginger, and try to stick to bland foods, crackers, that sort of thing. I’ll give you a packet of complimentary prenatal vitamins as well. They sell them in bigger bottles at Clover’s Pharmacy on 4th street.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welcome! And, Joseph!”
Joseph startles from the plastic chair like he’s been shocked. “Y-y-yes?”
“How’s your mother? I saw her at Bridge the other day. She must be so excited about having a grandbaby!”
“She’s doing well. Still a pistol even at her age. And yes, she’s very excited.”
“Wonderful. I’ll let Emily know you’re ready for her. Have a great day, you two.” She smiles as she closes the door behind her.
Joseph looks around the room anxiously. “And that was my high school health class teacher.”
“No way!”
“Unfortunately, yes, way.”
“No wonder you looked like you got in trouble! Do you think she remembers?”
“Oh, she definitely does. She was just kind enough not to reprimand me for skipping the condom that first time.”
I start laughing, and soon, I’m laughing so hard tears stream down my face.
“You failed health class! You knocked someone up!” I hoot.
It feels good to laugh. I’ve been so anxious about my appointment this morning that I haven’t even let myself begin to get excited.
I change into the gown and hop up onto the table.
“Where do you want me?” Joseph asks.
“Could you, uh, hold my hand?” My nerves return.
He grips my hand in his large, warm palm. “Of course.”
There’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I call.
The ultrasound tech walks in, wheeling a massive plastic machine on a cart behind her. It looks like a cross between an old printer and a vintage TV. She’s wearing light pink scrubs and Converse tennis shoes. She looks to be around my age.
“Hi, I’m Emily. Are you ready to see your baby?” she asks. The cart groans as she lugs it over to the space between the exam table and the wall.
The screen powers up with a zap, and then a piercing metallic sound echoes throughout the tiny exam room. It’s shrill and high.
I glance over at the screen, which seems to dissolve into hundreds of little pixels like the image stopped loading halfway through. Emily’s brow is furrowed.
She slaps the top of the machine, and it shrieks again. Static creeps up along the screen, eating the image. It zaps shut with a spark.
The top of the machine is smoking.
“Um,” Emily says quietly, “That’s weird. Uh, okay. One moment, please, that’s never happened before.”
“What a great thing to hear at your first ultrasound appointment,” Joseph whispers.