my pursed lips with my finger as I think. “Let’s see,” I murmur. “Have I told you the one about the guy who stole my heart for the millionth time when he sang to his infant son?”
His smile is beautiful as he shakes his head. “Tell me.”
“Those first few days after Gray was born were some of the most exhausting days of my life. As you know, my milk didn’t come in right away, which made it hard for Gray to get enough sustenance, so he was constantly hungry.” Or so we thought. He’d feed, and as soon as I laid him down, he’d wake up again crying. I had him at my nipple so often that they ended up cracking and bleeding. Come to find out, he only wanted something in his mouth. We introduced him to the pacifier, and he immediately latched on. That pacifier was my miracle.
“Gray’s crying woke me up one night a few days after we came home. I was so tired I couldn’t even keep my eyes open as I went to his room. I was stumbling and using the wall as my guide. I heard you before I made it to Gray’s room. We both know you can’t carry a tune.” We laugh. “But hearing you sing “Baby Mine” to Gray, I swear it was the sweetest sound I had ever heard. That’s one of the many times I fell in love with you.”
He gets up from the stool, cups my cheeks, and kisses me sweetly. “I lost count years ago of how many times I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lie my head right over his heart. I enjoy listening to his heartbeat as we stay that way for several long moments. It’s one of my favorite sounds because it means he’s real and here with me.
There’s a soft knock on the door, and Lincoln and I are broken away from our moment. An older gentleman wearing a white coat over a light-blue dress shirt and gray slacks walks inside. Dr. Becker has been my doctor since I was twelve years old. He delivered both Gray and Gemma. Before that, I saw his father, who retired and left his practice, and patients, to his son.
Lincoln steps back and goes to sit on the chair.
“Hey, Molly. Lincoln,” Dr. Becker greets. He hooks his foot around the stool and tugs it toward him. After setting his laptop down on the counter, he takes a seat. “How are you doing?”
“Just wondering what’s going on with me.”
He taps away at the keyboard for a few moments before turning his attention to me. “Unfortunately, we’re going to have to be left in the dark a bit longer. I got your blood work back, and everything seems to be normal.”
“How is that possible?” Lincoln asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “There’s obviously something going on.”
Dr. Becker nods. “I agree. We need to dig a bit deeper to figure out what it is.”
“What else do we need to do?”
“First, I want to go over your family medical history again. I know you were asked last week, but I want to make sure you didn’t forget anything.”
I shake my head. “No, nothing. My maternal grandmother died from a stroke a couple of years ago, and my maternal grandfather from colon cancer when I was ten. My paternal grandparents are still alive and in good health. Mom and Dad are healthy, and since you’re Lindsay’s doctor, you already know she is too, so no issues there. None of my other family has medical issues that we’re aware of.”
He taps on his laptop some more. “Any other incidences since your last visit?”
“The muscles in my legs locked up on Sunday, and I fell.”
“She bumped her hip on the corner of the table as she was falling, leaving a bruise behind,” Lincoln adds.
Dr. Becker looks up from his computer, his bushy brows behind his glasses dropping. He gets up, washes his hands, and walks over to me.
“Lie back for me, dear, and let me have a look.”
Although I don’t think the bruise is that bad—it’s actually almost gone—I lie down and lift the bottom of my shirt. Dr. Becker rolls down the waistband of my leggings until he exposes the slightly sore area. He pokes at it a couple of times before fixing the waistband.
“Nothing to be concerned about.”
He moves to the center of my stomach and presses down a couple more times.