Wrong Question, Right Answer by Elle Casey
May huffs out a sigh of frustration. “It’s from me, of course. Just open it. You’ll see.”
I tear the paper, never one of those people who saves the stuff for another gift. Under the flowers and bows is a cardboard box.
May starts clapping her hands and dancing in place. “Open it, open it. You’re going to love it so much. I know you are.”
I pry the tape apart and lift the flaps of the box. Wrapped in some nondescript paper is something heavy and black. Even when I pull it from the outer layer, I’m still not sure what I’m looking at. It’s only when May grabs it out of my hands, turns it over, and points it at me with a maniacal grin on her face that I finally get it.
“You bought me a Taser?”
“Yes! I bought you a Taser! Isn’t that so cool?” She shifts over so she can stand next to me, holding the Taser out toward Ozzie. “Now you can fight people from afar. You don’t have to get right up in their faces or kick ’em with your boots, which might get awkward as you get bigger. You can just shoot them from up to fifteen feet away.”
She points the gun at her fiancé and pretends she’s releasing the electrified barbs at him. “Pew! Pew! Zap! Crackle! Pop!”
Ozzie puts his hands up to his heart and pretends to fall backward a little bit. Then he stands up straight and goes back to being his regular, serious self.
I don’t know what to say. She actually bought me a weapon? How did she know I like weapons so much?
She turns around and puts the Taser back in my hand, grabbing the box for me. “There are several cartridges in here too, so you’re all ready to lock and load.” She pulls them out and throws the empty box onto the table, holding the cartridges out in front of me. “Here, take them. They’re yours.”
I’m so stunned by the fact that she even gave me a gift I don’t know what to say.
Her face starts to fall. “Don’t you like it?” She looks over her shoulder at Ozzie and then back at me. “You totally hate it, don’t you?”
I swear to God I can see tears shining in her eyes. I panic, grabbing her arm. “No! I love it. Seriously. It’s cool.”
“Are you sure? I was just thinking that if you’re pregnant, it’s probably dangerous for you to do hand-to-hand combat, but if you have a Taser, you can still kick ass and take names like you always do, just from a distance.”
For some silly reason I get choked up. It feels like there’s a giant lump in my throat, and it aches. I reach up and pat her on the shoulder until I can finally speak again.
“It’s cool. I love it. I’ll keep it in my bag forever.”
May’s cheer seems to be restored. She leans to the side and picks up the second box from the table. This one is covered in gray and black striped paper.
“This one is from Ozzie,” she says. “He bought it all by himself. He didn’t even tell me he was doing it.” She turns around and gives him a silly smile.
I carefully put the Taser and the cartridges down on the table and take the package from May. I can’t even look at Ozzie right now, my heart is thumping so hard in my chest. I was really rude to him earlier today and he hasn’t said a word about it. And now I find out that he went out and bought me a gift when I was thinking about how much I hated him and hated how he was acting?
“I don’t know what he got you. He won’t tell me anything.” She looks over at him and pouts.
I slowly rip the paper away and pull out a long, thin box. It looks like he’s given me some sort of fancy pen. Is this another giant hint that I’m going to be working at a desk for the next nine months? I slide the inner box out of its sleeve and then open the hinged box.
Lying in a bed of dark blue velvet is a silver spoon. I stare at it for the longest time, trying to figure out what the hell he’s giving me a spoon for.
May’s voice goes all goofy. “Awww. He bought a silver spoon for your baby. You know what that means?”
I look up and shake my head at her.
“It means that he’s going to make sure that your baby always has the best of everything. That your baby deserves a silver spoon. Baby’s first silver spoon.” She looks over at Ozzie. “That was totally awesome, honey. You’re so sweet.” She runs over to her fiancé and throws herself into his arms.
He envelops her in a hug but looks up at me. “Congratulations,” he says. “I’m happy for you.” He detaches himself from May and she lets him go. He walks over and stands in front of me.
I look up at him, the silver spoon in my hands. I speak softly because I don’t want May to hear what I’m saying. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch earlier.”
He shakes his head. “Not another word about that. We’re fine. We’re good. Just don’t think you’re going anywhere, because I’m not going to let you. You’re part of the team forever. ’Til death do us part.”
I can’t say a word because I don’t trust myself not to bawl like a baby. I just put my arms around him and give him a hug, so happy he doesn’t hate me or want me to go find a job somewhere else.
“You can keep working in the field like you always have, for as long as you want. I’m going to let you decide what you can and can’t do.”
I nod. “Thanks. It wasn’t so bad today.” I’m telling him the truth, not trying to suck up. It wasn’t crazy and it wasn’t fun, but it also wasn’t dangerous. “I found a lot of great stuff. It’s all right there in the report. You should probably read it and contact the chief.”
He nods. “Good job.”
Relief floods me. Lucky was right. I can’t keep living my life like it hasn’t changed. It’s not just me I have to worry about; there’s a little somebody inside me now who I need to be worried about too. I can’t do stupid shit like I used to do.
I let go of Ozzie and back up, gathering my gifts from the table and shoving them into my bag. “Thanks, guys. Really. I mean it. You didn’t have to do this. It was real nice, though.”
Thibault is standing in the doorway. “I feel like an asshole,” he says. “I didn’t get you anything.”
I smile at him as I walk by. “Don’t worry about it. You can pay me back in babysitting.”
He scoffs, but then I hear his voice coming from behind me, a hint of worry there. “Are you serious? Are you sure I’m qualified?”
I launch my parting shot as I go through the next door. “You’re just as qualified as I am.” And that’s going to have to be good enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I am now eight weeks pregnant and Lucky has convinced me that I need to go see a doctor. I fought it for as long as I could, but after reading more of those books he bought me, I realized he’s right. I need to have some professional eyes on this baby, because I have no idea what I’m doing. Thankfully the New Orleans Police Department made some good arrests based on the information we gathered in our reports last night, so we have a couple days of breathing room while they conduct interrogations and try to gather more data for our team.
Lucky’s driving, still convinced I take too many risks when I’m behind the wheel. I don’t care enough to argue with him about it. It could be because he was right about one thing: I do have more speeding tickets than anyone else on the team. But in my own defense, I’ve always been a cop magnet. Buying a mini-van might solve that problem, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to do that. My baby’s going to be riding around in style, just like I am.
We arrive at the doctor’s office ten minutes ahead of schedule because Lucky insists on leaving way too early. He parks the car and turns off the engine, but he doesn’t take off his seatbelt.
He looks over at me and gives me a nervous smile. “Are you ready for this?”
“As ready as I’m ever going to be.” I take off my seatbelt and put my hand on the door, but Lucky’s hand on my wrist stops me. I look down at his touch and then up at him. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciate you letting me stay at your place.”
I shrug. “It’s not like I even know you’re the
“I told you that I wouldn’t bother you. I just want to be there in case you need me.”
The next words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. “How will you know if I need you if you’re never there?”
He focuses really hard on my eyes, maybe trying to read my mind. “Are you saying you want me around more often?”
I shrug, looking out the front window. “I’m not saying anything. I was just making a comment.” Admitting to him that I might actually want him around is way more difficult than it should be, probably, but I have a problem showing weakness, and that’s what this feels like.
I can hear the smile in his voice. “I can be around more often if you want. If you need someone to rub your feet or your back . . .”
I pull my wrist out of his hand and open the door. “Shut up.” I know he’s just joking with me. I cannot even imagine him sitting there at my feet rubbing them. I don’t think he’s ever even seen my toes before.
Lucky shuts his door and meets me on the sidewalk. His hand moves to the small of my back as we walk up to the front door together. Women walking by us do a double-take and stare. Even with the stupid beard he’s started to grow, he’s still too good-looking.
He opens the door for me, and I roll my eyes at him glaring when I’m done.
“What’s wrong?” He strokes his chin. “You don’t like my beard?”
“Of course I love your beard. Who doesn’t love giant tufts of pubic hair on a man’s face?” I leave him standing there in the entrance, thrilled that I got the last word in about his stupid attempt at making himself ugly. As if he could ever be anything other than gorgeous.
I walk up to the front desk and give them my name, and I’m asked to sit down, fill out some forms, and be patient.
“Of course,” I say as I take a seat and pick up a magazine, handing Lucky the papers.
Lucky sits next to me. “Of course what?” He starts filling out the forms. He knows way more about me than I realized.
“Of course I have to be patient. It’s not like you can say you have an appointment at ten o’clock and have the doctor actually see you at ten o’clock. No, that would make too much sense. That would be too easy. Ten means eleven, probably.”
Lucky looks around the room and drops his voice. “I think it would be some kind of miracle for a doctor to stay on schedule with the kind of stuff they deal with every day.”
I laugh to myself as I page through the magazine. He’s probably right. There’s nothing like a good old-fashioned pregnancy to get a woman panicking. I’m normally pretty cool about stuff, but even I worry about the weird things I’m reading about in the books. I don’t even want to think about the childbirth part of things. I’ve pretty much just been blocking that out of my mind entirely.
I hear my name being called five minutes later and look up to find a girl wearing a set of pink scrubs smiling at me and gesturing for me to enter the inner sanctum. I get up and Lucky follows.
I talk to him under my breath. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Yep. Absolutely.”
We follow the girl into an examination room that has a big machine in the corner. The lights are very dim.
“Go ahead and take everything off from the waist down and then lie on the table. You can put that paper over you.” She smiles once more and then disappears. I look at the closed door, at Lucky, and finally at the table. “Is she serious?”
Lucky rubs his hands together and smiles. His teeth practically glow in the dark. “Now, this is what I’m talking about. X-rated doctor visits.”
I hiss out a breath of annoyance. “Shut up. If you keep acting like you’re twelve, I’m going to kick you out.”
He immediately stops doing his imitation of a fifth grader. “Fine. You want mature? I can be mature.” He folds his arms. “Take your clothes off and get up on the table, woman. I haven’t got all day.”
I try not to smile as I put my bag on a chair and start disrobing. I’m not worried about Lucky seeing me. First of all, I wore my best underwear, and second of all, it’s not like he hasn’t seen it all anyway. At least I don’t have a baby bump yet. I’ll still be sexy for another month or two before I lose it all.
Lucky starts to whistle like a guy strolling casually down the street might. I turn around and find him with his back to me as he stares at the ceiling. It makes me smile to think that he’s giving me privacy or that he’s embarrassed to be caught staring. For some crazy reason it makes me want to get naked with him. I quickly shove the thought away. Being naked with him has already gotten me into enough trouble.
I’m up on the table with a disposable paper draped over me when a girl walks in. “Hello,” she says. “I’m Amanda and I’m going to do a quick ultrasound on you.”
I’m a little confused as to why I’m having this procedure done when I haven’t even met a doctor yet, but what do I know? I’m just a patient. “Okay.”
She checks the folder in her hand. “You’re Antoinette Delacourte, right?”
“Toni. Just call me Toni.”
“Great,” she says. “Go ahead and lie back. I see that you’re eight weeks pregnant according to the information form that you filled out for us, so I’m going to have to use a different kind of ultrasound wand than you may have heard about in order to take a look at your uterus.”
It sounds ominous, whatever this thing is, so I sit up. “What’s that mean?”
She holds up what looks like a big dildo. “I’m going to insert this into your vagina so that we can look up into your uterus basically through the angle of your cervix.”
My jaw drops open. “Uhhh, no, you’re not.”
Her brows furrow. “Excuse me?”
I shake my head and look at her matter-of-factly. “Nope. You are not putting that anywhere in me.”
Lucky steps over and puts his hand on my shoulder, pushing me back. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just nervous.” He looks down at me. “Babe, all the girls do this. Just relax.”
I fix him with a glare. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not getting your hoo-hah probed by a giant dildo.”
The girl barks out a laugh before she controls herself. “I’m sorry. That was unprofessional.”
Lucky and I both look at her and say the exact same thing at the same time: “Don’t worry about it.”
Lucky leans down and stares at me, his nose just inches from mine. “Babe, would you please just do this? For me?”
I sigh. “You’re not going to be able to use that on me every time you want me to do something I don’t feel like doing.”
“Why not?”
“Because. It’ll lose its power and then you won’t have it when you need it. Besides, if that beard gets any longer, I’m going to start carrying my Taser in a holster.”
His voice goes really soft. “But I really want to see our baby.”
I can’t think of a single thing he could’ve said that would have influenced me more than that. I let out a long sigh of defeat. “Fine. Go ahead and probe me with the damn dildo.”
I can tell the girl is trying not to laugh again. Her voice comes out all wobbly. “Okay . . . I’m going to put some gel on the, a-hem, probe, and then I’m going to insert it very slowly. I promise to make it as comfortable as possible.”
Lucky’s grin gets bigger.
“Do not say a word, Lucky. I swear to God . . .” I am so ready to grab his throat.
He shakes his head and battles to keep a serious look on his face. At the same time, the girl starts putting her probe in. I have to look at the ceiling and avoid Lucky’s eyes. I cannot believe I’m doing this with him
I hear some noise and some buttons clicking, so I look over at her machine. At first there’s just darkness on the screen and then what looks like static, but eventually we see some circles and other things moving around. Every time she moves the angle of her probe it changes the weird things on the screen.
“What are we looking at?” Lucky asks. He’s holding onto my hand but leaning toward the machine, squinting his eyes.
“Well, I’m just checking on her cervix first, making sure everything looks good . . . and it does.” There’s a long period of silence before she speaks again. “And now we’re going to go ahead and take a look at the uterus and see what’s inside.”
“Maybe it’ll be nothing,” I say, almost hoping I’m right. But there is a small piece of me that hopes there’s a baby in there. I guess I’ve kind of gotten used to the idea.
“Well . . . I definitely see something.” She says this with the weirdest tone to her voice.
I lift my head up and stare at her. “What’s going on?”
She looks at me and she’s grinning. “There’s nothing going on except for the fact that I have a little bit of a surprise for you.”
“We already know I’m pregnant.”
She winks at me. “But did you know you are pregnant with twins?”
“What?”
Lucky leans so far over me toward the screen that all I can see now is the back of his head. “What did you say?” He sounds like he’s ready to slap the girl.
She clicks a bunch of buttons on her machine and wiggles the probe around some more. “I’ll go ahead and take some pictures for you so you can bring them home and show your families.”
“But wait a minute . . .” Lucky says, “I thought I heard you say that there were two babies in there. That’s what twins means, right?”
I’m forgiving him that stupid question, because he’s echoing what’s in my head. Twins means two, right? Or is that some crazy medical term that means something totally different? Please let it be that!
“I’m going to go ahead and let the doctor discuss this with you. I’ve probably already said too much. But don’t worry—everything looks great.”