Page 22 of Honest Boys Don’t Play

CHAPTER 7

LUKE

I pull up outside Bertie’s dorm to find her already waiting outside. She carries some sort of ginormous bag that looks like she could fit five pairs of shoes in it if she wanted. She uses it to shield her stomach. It’s like she popped overnight.

She heads toward my truck before I even pull into a spot and swings the door open with a creak. One of my first purchases with my NHL earnings is going to have to be a new—at least to me—car that’s safe for a baby. I love my truck, and since the ancient thing is paid for, I plan to hold onto it. Daire’s trying to convince me to get a minivan like his. I have to admit, the automatic sliding doors are tempting.

“Hey,” Bertie says a little breathless. Her mouth pops open when she finds the Sprite sitting in the cupholder. “Oh, I think I love you.” Her cheeks immediately flush. “I mean, not like that, in a … um…” She hastily straps the seatbelt as a distraction.

I chuckle as I drive away. “I know what you meant, B. I’m not sure where we’re going so you’re going to have to give me directions.”

“For now, just drive toward the hospital.” I shoot her a panicked look and she laughs. “Luke, my doctor’s office is by the hospital, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay.” My brain was already running straight to the worst things I could think of.

Bertie places her hand on her stomach. “We can find the gender out today if we want.”

“What?” I blurt. “They can know that already.”

“Yeah,” she sighs and picks up her drink. She takes a sip and puts it back down. “I could’ve done a blood test a while ago,” she goes on. “I think … I’m not sure if I want to find out. I’m scared.”

“You’re scared?” I slow for a red light and look at her, studying the downturn of her glossy pink lips.

She shrugs. “I’m not sure how good I’m going to be at this whole mom thing and I…” Her cheeks redden. “I think I would handle a daughter better than a son and I was reading about gender disappointment, and now I’m terrified that if I find out it’s a boy that I’ll be one of those people and then I wonder if the baby can sense that, you know? The disappointment? And what if the baby thinks I hate them or something? What if I fail at this whole mom thing before I even birth the child?” She’s rambling now, working herself up to the point that she’s almost hyperventilating. “I just think a girl would be easier for me, you know? A boy seems so scary.”

A car honks behind me, and I jerk when I realize the light has changed. I pull away slowly, the truck groaning.

“We don’t have to find out. I’m okay with waiting.”

I don’t tell her, but it doesn’t matter to me either way. Boy or girl makes no difference. I just want a healthy kid—and I know deep down, that’s all she cares about too.

“But if we don’t find out, then how am I supposed to decorate a nursery?” I think she’s talking more to herself than me.

“Well, chances are, we won’t have space for a nursery to start with,” I counter.

From her pout, I’m not sure this brings her any comfort.

When she stays silent, I add, “You do great with Sammy, don’t you?”

She hesitates and then says, “Well, yeah.”

“See, you have nothing to worry about if it’s a boy.”

She exhales a shaky breath. “I guess it’s just harder for me to picture a baby boy for some reason.”

“We’ll do whatever you want with finding out. It doesn’t matter to me if you want to know or wait.”

She dips her head in acknowledgment. The rest of the ride is spent in silence except when we get closer to the hospital and she has to give directions. By the time I find a spot in the parking garage, her soda is empty.

She undoes her seatbelt and freezes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, immediately noting her stiff posture.

“I don’t…” She pauses, putting a hand to her stomach. “I … I think I felt the baby move.” She turns wide eyes to me. “Holy crap.”

“Can I?” I extend my hand to her belly.

She grabs it and places it on the small swell of her stomach. “Right there, do you feel it?” I concentrate, but I feel nothing. She frowns. “It’s my first time feeling anything so it probably can’t be felt from the outside.”