Page 42 of Falling Together

“Okay.” Georgia squeezes my hand and I squeeze back.

“I’m sure you’re ready to see your baby, but I warn you, it’s a vaginal ultrasound and it can be a bit cold.”

She gloves up and moves the monitor closer to the table as Georgia gets her feet in the stirrups.

“Oh,” Georgia gasps as she starts the procedure.

But I don’t notice as the sound of the heartbeat echoes through the room.

“Holy shit.”

“That’s a strong heartbeat,” the doctor says. She clicks on the monitor. “Now, let’s see what we find.”

Georgia’s grip is tight on mine as we stare at the fuzzy screen. I’m not sure what I’m looking at until the doctor points out a small shape, about the size of a lime.

Holy shit. That’s my baby. I’m in awe as I stare at the screen.

“You’re right at twelve weeks, and everything looks good so far. I’ll get you started on some prenatal vitamins to help, and I want to make sure you stick to a healthy diet.”

“I can do that,” Georgia agrees.

“What is it you do for a living?” the doctor asks.

“I’m a hippotherapist.”

The doctor nods like she knows exactly what that is. I’m guessing it’s a nicer version of what Georgia told me when we first met. Not quite the cowgirl description she gave me.

“I tell most of my patients that horseback riding is off-limits, but if you are comfortable riding and can take it easy, I don’t see why you couldn’t keep riding.”

“That’s safe?” I ask.

The doctor nods. “As a therapist, she has knowledge of how her horses behave, and if they are well-mannered, I don’t see it as a safety concern. Now, if you’re trying to break in a young horse, I do not want you doing that. But an easy walk would be okay.”

My attention turns back to Georgia, and there is relief on her face. “I’ll play it by ear and see how I feel. I don’t want to put the baby in danger.”

I squeeze her hand. “I trust you.”

“I’ll print some pictures for you both, and then you can get out of here and enjoy your day.” She smiles at both of us. “Congratulations.”

Georgia and I leave the office in a blur, but it’s only when we’re back outside in the bright sun that I remember our conversation from earlier.

“What did you mean in there? Before we got called back,” I ask.

She fiddles with the keys in her hands. “I’m giving you an out. I know this isn’t what you signed up for, so if you don’t want to help, you don’t have to.”

“Did you sign up for this?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, trying not to let my annoyance show.

“Well, no, not exactly.”

“Then why would I get an out if you don’t have one?” I take another step closer. “Because I don’t need an out, Georgia. I’m here. You and me. We’ll do this together.”

Her eyes glass over before she blinks and it’s gone. “Okay.”

“Now, about telling people.”

She barks out a laugh. “The people I love know. Everyone else in town will know by lunchtime.”

“Seriously?”