Ripped - Cassia Leo Page 0,5
maybe especially—Kaia, who’s biologically not my daughter, but her heart and soul will always be mine. At nine years old, she’s the perfect age to be daddy’s girl. I do not look forward to her becoming a teenager. And Mila is my perfect little devil. She’s as close as I can get to a boy in temperament, throwing the occasional fiery tantrum and pissing off her big sister by pulling her hair any chance she gets with those sticky toddler fingers. But I still want my boy.
I know I have about as much chance of getting a girl interested in surfing as I do a boy, but Kaia has already made it clear she doesn’t want to surf. If Mila goes the same way, this third child may be my last chance to make a mini-me. I guess it’s kind of narcissistic to want a miniature version of myself, but that’s not really what I want. I want to watch my son grow up and learn all the things I learned on my own. But he’ll learn them from me, so he’ll learn them sooner and faster. I want to sit on the sand, point at the waves, and say, “That’s my boy. Taught him everything he knows.”
Yeah, it’s stupid. Which is exactly why I don’t want to know the sex. I need this one to be a surprise. I won’t be sad or depressed if I find out we’re having another baby girl. But I don’t know how or if it will affect my performance in the next four events, assuming I don’t drop into no-man’s-land in the CT rankings after Trestles.
Lindsay flinches a little when the ultrasound technician squeezes the jelly onto her abdomen. “That’s cold.”
The tech grabs the transducer, which is attached to the giant ultrasound machine with a cable, and takes a seat on a stool next to where Lindsay is lying down. “Sorry about that. This machine is on loan while our other machine is being repaired, and it doesn’t have a built-in gel warmer. I didn’t realize that until you were already lying down, or I would have moved you to the other room.”
“It’s okay,” Lindsay replies, though I can feel a slight tremble in her hand as she squeezes mine tightly.
The tech moves the transducer over Lindsay’s belly, spreading the jelly over her skin as her gaze stays focused on the screen. A jumbled mix of black-and-white movement appears, though none of it makes sense to me. The tech’s eyebrows scrunch together and Lindsay’s grip on my hand immediately tightens.
“What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with the baby?” she asks.
“Oh, no. Don’t mind my expression. My face moves a lot when I’m thinking. Everything looks fine so far, there’s just something I see, but I want to be sure.”
“What do you see?” I ask, hoping she sees a third leg.
“Well, just a minute,” she replies, her left hand typing something on the keyboard as her right hand moves the transducer around. “It looks as if… you are the proud parents of twins.”
“What?” Lindsay shrieks.
My chest tightens at the thought of having two babies at once. I will definitely have to retire if that’s the case.
“Are you… Are you sure?” I ask.
The tech looks at me over the glasses perched on the end of her nose. “Yes, sir.” She points at something on the screen. “See here? That line is the division between the two amniotic sacs. You are having two babies. Would you like to know the sexes?”
At the same time, Lindsay says yes while I say no. The tech looks at us, eyebrows raised, probably wondering why we didn’t agree on this beforehand. We did. We agreed we didn’t want to know the sex of the baby. It seems Lindsay is trying to renege on our agreement.
“You said we’d let this one be a surprise since it’s our last,” I whisper.
She looks at me with those wide blue eyes and pouty lips that always seem to get me to cave. “Adam, we’re having twins. I need to know the sex so I can start preparing. This is huge.”
I draw in a deep breath as I try to think of a compromise. “Okay, how about this? What if we ask this kind woman if each baby is a different sex? If the answer is no, we won’t find out. If the answer is yes, then we’ll have our answer.”
The tech nods at my ingenious plan. “Very smart. Either you find out you’re getting