Seven Days: The Complete Story (37 page)

We go into the
tiny room where the scan is to be performed and Nicholas helps me
up onto the bed. He rearranges my hideous hospital gown to cover
the bits he thinks nobody should see but him and sits on a chair
next to me at the head of the bed. He has this smirk on his face
like he made this baby singlehandedly, which we both know is a
physical impossibility but it’s cute. I like that he’s watching
over me like this, cooing and gushing, trying to take care of me
and the baby even if sometimes he can be a tad stifling, almost as
if he’s afraid I’ll run away like Joel did.

I’m not going
anywhere. I have everything I ever wanted. Why would I?

The
sonographer comes into the room. She introduces herself as Maura
and explains what we’ll see on the scan today. She asks us if we’d
like to know the sex of the baby.

“Yes!”
Nicholas is emphatic. He’s convinced there’s a mini Sadie growing
inside me and he wants to win the bet we made. He likes to be the
winner. I’ve never told him that most of the time I let him win his
silly bets because I love to see the fun in his eyes.

“No,” I reply
simultaneously. “I want it to be a surprise.”

“How the hell
do you expect me to decorate the nursery if I don’t know the sex?”
he whines playfully. The team of designers he has at the ready have
been pressuring us for weeks now about colour choices and cots and
mobiles. I want to choose it myself, little by little, piece by
piece but Nicholas isn’t having a bar of that, hence our bet on the
sex.

“The same way
they did it in the ‘olden days’, I suspect. You know, when you were
a teenager and I wasn’t born.” I giggle.

“I’m not that
damn old.”

“Old enough to
remember when mobile phones were invented,” I point out.

He raises his
eyebrows.

“We’ll
decorate in a neutral palette and add touches of colour once the
baby comes along. Besides we both know it’s going to be a boy and
I’ll win the bet, so I’m sticking with that blue or maybe the
lemon. I haven’t made up my mind.”

“For a woman
who’s so anal about organisation the rest of the time, you’re being
rather indecisive. Let’s just find out the sex.”

“No. I want a
surprise.”

“Jesus, you
can be infuriating.”

“Better get
used to it, then. I intend to be infuriating, oh, for at least the
next four months. Or maybe the rest of my life. And you will not
use any of your cheap standover tactics to bring me to heel,
Nicholas Clayton Lawson.” I give him a mock glare and watch for the
reaction. He hates people knowing his middle name. He reckons it’s
daggy. Which it is. We won’t be having that as one of the names for
our little boy. Family name or not.

Nicholas
releases an overdramatic groan and mumbles something about
women.

“Are we ready
to get started?” Maura asks.

“You’d better
check with the boss,” Nicholas tells her.

I grin at him
and pat his hand. “Glad you’ve finally realised.”

And the
sonographer commences the exam.

The room is
quiet for a while after that. Maura squirts some cold goo onto my
stomach and slides the wand over my belly. She checks out portions
of the scan and enlarges sections before taking a series of photos.
Nicholas is watching intently. At one point I’m sure he’s counting
the number of fingers and toes. Maura seems to think so too because
she shows him all the relevant body parts and reassures him
everything’s in order. She points to the kidneys, lungs and heart
and from the corner of my eye I see Nicholas tearing up.

I mean, there
are actual glints of tears. Of course, he’d deny it if I tease him
so I give his hand a reassuring squeeze. I feel the same way, too.
Seeing your baby inside you is the most surreal feeling. It’s
excitement and fear and anticipation rolled into one.

That’s our
baby in there, Nicholas, I think. The baby you and I made with our
love.

I know he
hears my silent words because his hand squeezes mine back and he
drops a tender kiss on my temple.

“I love you,”
he whispers in my ear. “I love you so much.”

At one stage,
Maura presses the wand hard against the side of my belly. It’s
uncomfortable as she pauses and takes another photo but I don’t say
anything. I hold my breath and pray that everything’s all right
because there’s an odd sensation in my belly now, a tightness that
wasn’t there a second ago. It’s then, as she’s squinting into the
screen pointing out the baby’s features, that it turns its head and
for the first time we see its entire face— a little nose, two big
eyes. I watch as the baby sucks its thumb and rubs its little
tummy. I’m in awe that this tiny thing inside me can move and
obviously feel. As we continue to watch, the baby removes its left
hand from its mouth and raises it in a wave.

Straight at
us. Like, literally, at us.

“Holy shit.
Did you see that?” Nicholas has this goofy look on his face. He
points to the screen. “Little Jolene is waving at us. Our baby’s a
genius.”

“He’s
stretching,” I say. “It must be awfully crowded in there.”

Then the baby
kicks. It makes me laugh because not only can I feel it but I see
it happening. There’s a bulge in the side of my belly and I realise
that’s what the sensation was. It’s the baby moving. I can feel my
baby moving.

“Can I let
Nicholas feel?” I ask Maura.

She nods and
removes the wand. I place Nicholas’ hand on my belly and the baby
kicks again.

Nicholas gazes
at my belly and then at me. “She’s got some fight in her,” he
remarks. “Just like her mum.” His eyes are full of love. It’s
overflowing unashamedly down his cheeks.

“Tell us the
sex, Maura,” I say. “If Nicholas cries any more we’re all going to
drown.”

*****

Later in the
afternoon, Nicholas and I decide to go baby window shopping. Having
won the bet, I tell Nicholas I intend to dispense with the interior
designer and have the nursery how I want it to be. I don’t care if
the dresser doesn’t match the crib or the curtains are not the most
expensive fabric. I want the room to be homely and filled with
love.

“Are you
always going to be this bossy?” Nicholas asks, as we wander around
Baby World, holding hands. I’ve been pointing out things I really
love and pretending to ignore his suggestions because I won the
bet.

“I’m not being
bossy. I want to do this my way, our way. We don’t need a team of
bystanders to make it happen, no matter what they say about it
taking a small village to raise a child.”

“It takes a
team?” He looks a little worried.

I pull him
closer to my side, curling my arms around his bicep and cuddling
into him. “I don’t think so. A lot of love and some common sense
but not a lot of people. You and I can do it by ourselves.”

Nicholas stops
in the middle of the nappy aisle. He turns to me, his hands go to
my waist, pulling me close. “You are one incredible girl, Sadie
Cooper.”

“How so?”

“I think most
girls would have a minor breakdown at an unplanned pregnancy but
not you. You’ve taken it in your stride. Nothing phases you. You
glide around like this beautiful, serene angel.”

Um, I don’t
know what planet he’s been on these last few months but I think
there’s been a fair amount of freaking out on my part. Does he not
remember that tantrum I threw over the fact he ate the last two Tim
Tams the other night?

“I’m sure I’m
not that perfect. In fact, I was a complete trollop the other
day.”

“You’re
perfect to me.” His hands slide down my hips to my bottom and he
cups it. He looks deep into my eyes and I feel a little giddy at
the fact he’s going to kiss me right in the middle of the baby
shop. But he doesn’t. He keeps staring with this weird look on his
face.

I eye him
suspiciously. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I
just love you, that’s all.”

“Why are you
being ultra nice all of a sudden?”

“Hey! I’m
always nice.”

I’ll give him
that. My Nicholas is the most gorgeous man on the planet. Still, he
has that look. “What’re you up to then?”

He nods toward
some sort of hammock contraption. “I was just wondering. You know,
when we get home— ”

I frown and
then the penny drops. “You’re incorrigible, Nicholas.”

“What? It
might be fun. We’ve never done it in the hammock.”

“And there’s
plenty of good reasons for that.”

I like my
brain inside my head, for one. And my baby is staying firmly put
for another four months, for two. What on earth is he thinking?

I look up into
his eyes and I know exactly what he’s thinking. He’s dirty and he
knows I love it.

Changing the
conversation, I walk off down the aisle and turn the corner. It’s
the aisle with bottles and sterilisers and … breast pumps.

Nicholas is
behind me, peering over my shoulder. “Are they for real? You
actually have to use that on your boobs? Do we need all this crap?”
He’s talking about the myriad of bottles and buckets, nappy bags
and other paraphernalia.

“The breast
pump, most likely and definitely a change mat or table and a nappy
bag. But the rest I doubt it. As long as we have the essentials, I
think we’ll cope. I’m sure the pre-natal classes will give us the
info we need.”

“We have to go
to a class? What the hell for? We’re having a baby not learning to
dance.”

“We have to
learn what to do in the labour. You don’t want to be unprepared do
you? You want to know how to look after me and what things we need
for the birth.”

Nicholas sighs
again and kisses my lobe. “As long as your boobs stay the size they
are now, babe, you can do all the damn classes you want.”

Oh for Pete’s
sake.

The next month
is hectic. I enrol for prenatal yoga classes and sign us up to
attend birthing classes too. Nicholas dragged his heels on making a
decision about what night we should go, but after much discussion
and a lot of pouting on my behalf we decide on Tuesday evenings.
I’m positive he thought if he ignored the idea for long enough I’d
forget. Heavy breathing in public isn’t really his thing, so I’m
over the moon he’s agreed. It’s another milestone in our journey as
a couple. We’re doing what other people do. There’s no sneaking
about or furtive handholding. We’re practically normal— well, if
you discount the fact that Joel’s bedroom door remains resolutely
open and his stuff where he left it. Nicholas is holding onto the
hope that he’s going to stroll through the front door at any minute
and sink onto the couch with a beer. He’s not though. He doesn’t
text, he doesn’t answer my emails. The one person who’s had word is
Jill. Joel contacted her to give directions about certain parts of
the Iris project which made Nicholas super pissed off, so pissed
off in fact he threw a vase at the wall. I want to tell Joel that.
I want to tell him that in his haste to give us space he may
actually have ruined the one real thing in our lives. It’s
astounding to me that he’d behave this way, that he’d have the will
power to stay away from his company and his friends for so long,
but I suppose we do what we have to do.

On Wednesday
morning, Nicholas calls from the office and invites me to have
lunch with him. I jump at the chance because I feel like haven’t
seen him in days, he’s been so busy.

“I thought we
might have a picnic in my office,” he says. “I don’t have time to
go out but I’ve got time to sit for half an hour with my girl and
eat a sandwich.”

“Do you want
me to supply the sandwich?” I ask. “I can pack us a lunch and bring
it with me.”

The phone
fills with laughter. My attempts at cooking have improved vastly
since we’ve been living together but I’m not up to gourmet picnic
standard yet. Not if my boobs are the size of Nigella’s now.
“Nope,” he replies. “It’s organised. The cafe on the corner is
doing a hamper. Laura’s picking it up at one.”

“Will there be
dessert?” My appetite for sweet things is insatiable since I’ve
been pregnant.

“Depends on
what you class as dessert.”

“Are you
trying to be dirty with me, Nicholas Lawson?”

“I’d like
nothing better. Maybe we can roll around on the picnic rug for a
bit? I haven’t seen you in days. I miss your body.”

“So you
thought you’d take me for an office tumble under the guise of a
picnic? That’s a bit sneaky.”

He chuckles.
“I didn’t think that at all. It came to me then.”

“And you
thought you might like to come some more, is that it?”

“Well,
yeah.”

“You’re so
rude.”

“Thanks. I’ll
see you at one.”

I can hardly
wait.

*****

The picnic is
delicious— tiny sandwiches filled with chicken and homemade
mayonnaise, wraps with some sort of roasted vegetables, bottles of
sparkling water. And the cake. Oh. My. God. I could have an orgasm
over the chocolate layer cake alone. The filling is dark and creamy
and if I didn’t have Nicholas I’d marry it, for sure.

Nicholas and I
are sitting on the floor of his office, leaning back against the
sofa. We’re stuffed to the gills. My hands are on my belly because
I think it might be about to burst. The baby has enjoyed his lunch,
too. He’s doing a little dance beneath my fingers. Nicholas’ arms
are stretched along the length of the couch behind me. His fingers
are playing with a lock of my hair, twisting it. His eyes are
closed like he’s sated from sex. It’s the food, though. He loves
food nearly as much as he loves me.

“That was
awesome,” I say. “I don’t think I’ll need to eat for at least two
days, I’m so full.”

A smile bends
his lips. “Me either.”

“Thank you for
inviting me for lunch. I’ve missed you these past few days. Having
you collapse into bed beside me and be gone before I’m awake isn’t
my idea of a relationship.” I’m not harping, I know it’s because
he’s been busy. I need him to understand how I feel. I’m lonely
without him.