Chapter 60

An audible crack came from James' hand as I held it in a vice-like grip, my eyes tightly shut and facing away from the screen, bracing for the awful news. Without even being aware of it, I was holding my breath, the fear threatening to consume me again.

“Emily, it's okay, you can look now, everything is fine, the baby is alive and healthy.” Beatrice's voice was filled with a mixture of amusement and sympathy as she spoke.

“Really?” I asked, eyes still tightly shut, but I lessened my grip on James' hand a fraction.

“Yes, everything looks perfect. The right amount of arms and legs, fingers and toes, all in their proper place,” she assured me. I opened one eye, squinting at the screen.

“No tail or... anything?” I asked timidly. At this question Beatrice laughed loudly.

“No, no tail or other inappropriate appendages,” she said, patting my knee. Slowly I opened both of my eyes to look at the screen. On it I could see the ghostly outline of a baby, its head slightly too big for the rest of it's body. I saw its spine, and an arm flailing around, its legs curled up against its body.

“Is it really okay?” I asked dazedly.

“Yes. Look, it's even sucking its thumb,” she said, pointing at the screen. Finally I allowed myself to break into a smile, feeling the relief washing through me. Beatrice pressed a few buttons and that squelchy, static sound of the baby's heartbeat could be heard. The baby flailed around and Beatrice had to chase it with the ultrasound probe. “Oh no, it's getting away..!” She said in mock horror and I laughed loudly. “Active little thing! Everything looks exactly like it should, heartbeat sounds great. He or she is a little on the small side, but that's to be expected considering the rough start you had. Besides, you're not exactly a giant either,” she added, looking pointedly at me.

“Yeah, I come from a family of midgets...” I sighed, still not taking my eyes off the monitor. Beatrice had taken a few stills, and put one up on the screen.

“I'll go print out a few of these for you.” Beatrice said as she took the probe away and habitually handed me tissues to wipe the gel off. “And I'll give you two some privacy. Take as much time as you need,” she said as she got up, patted my shoulder and exited the room, closing the door behind her. I cleaned the gel off and pulled my top down again, then sat up on the bench I had been lying on. James was still staring at the screen, his face half-hidden by his hair.

“James?” I wrapped my hand around his, squeezing it gently to get his attention. He turned slowly to face me, and the look on his face was something I hadn't expected. His mouth was a little open, his bottom lip trembling a little, his eyes brimming with tears. “Aw, honey...” I said, squeezing his hand once more. He blinked a few times and a tear ran down his face, he quickly averted his eyes and looked at the floor, his jaw trembling some more. “Happy tears?” I asked gently. Still staring at the floor he nodded, then took a step forward and buried his face against my shoulder and neck, hiding as well as searching for comfort. I wrapped my arms around him, patted his back and kissed his temple. The reaction I was seeing in James had surprised me, I had thought I was the one who was going to break down crying. But I understood him, understood why he was reacting this way. Seeing his child, and hearing its heartbeat, had been a lot more significant for James than he had been prepared for, it had overwhelmed him and brought him out of balance. I also suspected that he had been a lot more afraid of something being wrong than he admitted to, and that the relief he was feeling was also a reason behind him becoming so emotional. When James had composed himself he sniffed and straightened up a little. Arms still wrapped around me he leaned his forehead against mine. “You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I'm... just fine,” he whispered and broke out into a little smile. “I swear your pregnant hormones are catching,” he said with a watery chuckle, quickly wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. I giggled at him and ran my hand over his hair.

“They are pesky, those hormones, huh?” I said sympathetically, and wiped his other cheek with my thumb. He nodded.

“Yeah... I'm all right, it's just... That was a very special thing to see. And hear,” he admitted.

“I know.” I kissed him lovingly. “Now stop sobbing, man up and let's get out of here,” I said loudly, patting his chest and straightening up. James rewarded me with his loud, duck-like laughter.

After we got out of the doctor's office we went out for lunch, feeling like we could breathe a sigh of relief knowing that the baby was healthy. The café was very busy and crowded, so we tried our best not to talk about the pregnancy as long as we were there, both a little paranoid that someone would overhear and it would get out before we'd had a chance to tell our friends and family. Returning home I went upstairs to change out of my jeans, which had become uncomfortably tight lately, and with a sigh I came to the conclusion that I would have to go out and buy new clothes soon, bigger jeans and eventually maternity clothes. Feeling more comfortable in a pair of baggy sweats I went downstairs and made tea for both of us. James was staring at his phone when I entered the living-room.

“What are you up to?” I asked curiously as a landed next to him on the sofa.

“I was looking at our baby,” James said, smiling proudly as he showed me the ultrasound still on his phone. Beatrice had sent us the images on our phones as well as given us paper copies. She knew better than anyone how expectant parents tended to stare soppily at ultrasound images several times a day, especially first-timers.

“Aaw. Aren't you the cutest dad-to-be ever!” I giggled and he blushed a little, putting the phone away. I inched up to him, wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his shoulder. His arm closed around me and he caressed my upper arm. “I feel so much calmer, knowing that everything seems okay. I feel like I can breathe now.”

“Yeah, I know, I do too,” he sighed, kissing my forehead.

“You know... Maybe we should start telling people soon? I mean, we know the baby is okay now, and I'm only going to get bigger and it'll just get more difficult to hide.”

“Yeah, I think you're right, we should,” he agreed. “I was thinking maybe we could throw a party? Invite everyone we want to tell?”

“Really?” I asked, a little surprised, pulling back to look up at him with a frown. “...I didn't think big announcements were your kind of thing.”

“I wouldn't know if it's 'my kind of thing' or not, I've never done this before!” He retorted with a hint of sarcasm.

“No?”

“Announced that I'm becoming a father? No!” He said exasperatedly. “There are certain things in life you announce to people, like: 'I'm getting married', 'I'm getting divorced', 'I'm gay', 'I've been chosen to join the space programme' or, you know... 'we're having a baby'. And I've never done any of those, or any sort of big announcement.” At this I chuckled and nodded understandingly. “You know, when we moved in together... That happened so quickly, and we never really announced that to anyone. I sometimes wish we did, because to me that was a big and important thing. This time I thought it would be nice to gather all the people who are important to us, make a big thing out of it and celebrate a little, because this is a big thing,” he explained. Hearing him talk so excitedly about this made me smile, the happiness washing through me.

“I want that, too.”

“Okay,” he nodded, his face breaking out into a grin. “I'll sort out everything; I don't want you to get all stressed out over this. You can just... sit on your arse and point and order me around.”

“Oh-ho-ho, you have no idea what you just agreed to!” I guffawed, rubbing my hands together menacingly. We quickly made a list of people we wanted to invite: Jezza and Richard with their wives, of course, and friends of James' like Simmy, Colin, his manager Fiona and a few other friends, including his sisters. I decided to invite Kellie, Cathy from my previous job and my friend Wendy from the ward I was working now. My family back in Norway already knew, and I understood that they would wait until the baby was born to come visit. When we had finished our guest-list, James immediately started calling people. Planning this party we had realised we needed to have it as soon as possible, Christmas was coming up and we wanted to tell everyone before the holidays, and preferably before the huge, annual Top Gear Christmas party on December 20th, which didn't leave us with much time. Having made the round of calls, James had found out that most people could miraculously make it, if we held the party little over a week later.

A few days after our ultrasound, I was enjoying a particularly lazy Sunday. December-London was grey and cold, giving me the perfect excuse to stay inside under a blanket. James had been preoccupied and quiet all day, mostly keeping to himself in his study or in his garage, writing or tinkering away. Knowing that he had days just like I had, where he just needed personal space and to be left alone, I let him be. I had learned enough about James by now to know that he didn't always tell me everything that was on his mind. The more I got to know him, the more I realised that he probably revealed far less of his innermost thoughts than I was aware of. Why he didn't, I wasn't quite sure of. James had always been very protective with me, trying to shield me from anything that might upset me. Maybe he didn't want to bother me, or burden me or make me upset. He had told me had always felt like a bit of a loner, and he had probably never lived or been so close to anybody before in his entire life, he was still getting used to it. So I left him alone, hoping that he would come talk to me if he needed it, if needed some support. Late that evening he came in from the garage, greasy and dirty, and headed straight upstairs for a shower. I finished watching the episode of Castle I had been barely paying attention to, then switched off the telly thinking I would go to bed. Entering the bedroom I noticed the door through to the bathroom was open. James was standing in front of the mirror in his boxers, hair still damp from the shower. He was staring at his own reflection in the mirror, deep in thought, looking troubled. He was so preoccupied he didn't even notice me as I approached him until he saw my reflection in the mirror. I wrapped my arms around him from behind and kissed the back of his shoulder tenderly.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked kindly. He drew a deep breath and sighed heavily.

“I'm too old to become a dad, Emily,” he said. His eyes met mine in the reflection, they were full of sadness and worry. “I mean, look at me... I'm fat, and wrinkly, and my hair is grey, my whole body creaks like an old wooden house and I have a bad back and...”

“Hey, hey, hey,” I said firmly, trying to stop James' worried ranting. This was so typical of him, he wouldn't talk about something that was troubling him, and when he finally did everything came pouring out of him like a dam had just broke inside him. Grasping him by the shoulders I forced him around to face me, taking him away from obsessing over his own reflection in the mirror. When his eyes met mine he looked apologetic, but mostly just very sad. “Aaw, sweetheart...” I cupped his face in my hand, caressing his cheek with my thumb. Briefly he closed his eyes to the gentle touch. “Come here.” Taking him by the hand I lead him into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling him down next to me. He fiddled with his own hands, looking upset. To comfort him I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, running my fingers calmly through his damp hair. “James... When this baby looks at you, it isn't going to see any of those things, you know? It'll just see... dad. You're just going to be cuddly, safe, silly, long-haired daddy, with the weird laugh and the squishy tummy.” At this James chuckled sadly, but he still looked worried. “James, do you feel old?”

“I... yes, I do, sometimes. Especially in the mornings...” He said quietly, not looking at me.

“James, that doesn't count! Everyone feels old in the morning! I spend the first hour of every single day feeling a thousand years old! That wasn't what I meant, though.”

“Jezza and Richard say I'm ancient all the time,” he argued, a sulky quality to his voice now.

“Oh that's bollocks, and you know it. They call you that because you're calm, you're sensible – well most of the time anyway, and you're pedantic, you think things through. Basically, everything they are not. They associate those qualities with being boring and old, but that's just wrong, they're just personality traits,” I argued back.

“Well... No, I guess I don't feel old, not really. Most of the time I wonder where the last twenty years went, I feel like I should still be thirty,” he admitted.

“See! James, you can't get so hung up on which year you were born, that really isn't what matters. I've known supposed grown women act like snooty, immature teenagers, and I've had mates far younger than me who was as old and wise as bloody Buddha. What age you are on paper is one thing, what age you are in your head is completely another,” I finished firmly.

“But... I'll be old enough to be its granddad, Emily,” he persisted.

“All right, granted, you are older than most first-time dads,” I conceded.

“That's an understatement,” James chortled despite himself.

“I wasn't done! I was saying, you are a little older than most first-time dads, but that just means you're also a little wiser, right? You've established your life, you have stability, a stable economy.. You even have the freedom to cut back on work and just focus on being a dad, to take your time and enjoy it. Most people become parents when they're what, 25, 30? And they work themselves to death trying to pay off the mortgage and the car and the kids' daycare. And they miss out on all the good stuff, because they're busy or they're too tired, and suddenly the kid is 18 and it buggers off.” I squeezed James' shoulder to make him look at me. “Am I making any sort of sense? Do you get what I'm trying to say?” James broke out into a weak smile, looking mildly comforted.

“Yeah, I think I understand... Being a little older might have some advantages and not be entirely awful?” He ventured.

“Exactly,” I smiled, and leaned in to give him a kiss.

“You're probably right. Can we get into bed now? I'm freezing,” James said with a shiver, goose bumps blossoming on his bare arms. I nodded, got up from the bed and closed the bathroom door, turned off the ceiling light, tore off my clothes and crawled under the covers. James inched up to me and I squealed in the instant his cold skin hit mine. He chuckled mischievously and snuggled into me, searching for warmth. James' sudden talk of age had brought back a lot of sad memories, bringing old fears with them. The last time James had been thinking like this he had ended up breaking up with me, letting his fears get the better of him. What if something similar happened this time? After a long silence I ran my hand over his arm again and kissed his hair before talking.

“James? Do you still think you're too old to be with me?” At this unexpected question James raised his head off my shoulder and looked at me. I could see the answer in his eyes before he even spoke it.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“So you're still worried that I'm going to have some strange epiphany someday, realise you're too old for me and walk out on you?” I asked, feeling hurt now.

“I... Yeah, sometimes...” he admitted, looking ashamed and apologetic. For a moment I just looked into his eyes, absent-mindedly caressing his hair, trying to figure out what to answer. Then I took his hand and placed it on my tummy.

“James, I am having your baby. I can't think of a more powerful way of telling you how much I love you and how committed I am to you. I don't know what else I can do to assure you that you are absolutely everything I want, and I am never going to leave you. I need you, and this baby is going to need you.” James looked at me in stunned silence for a while.

“You don't have to do... anything else,” he mumbled, swallowing hard now, torn between feeling ashamed and touched.

“James, you have no idea how proud I am to be able to call you the father of my child. Our child,” I assured him, running my hand over his cheek again. He blinked rapidly a few times, and then leaned into hug me tightly.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I'm sorry for being so... It's just frightening, you know? Becoming a dad is still scaring me to death,” he admitted quietly.

“I know, baby...” I soothed, hugging him tight. “I think it's supposed to be scary. If we weren't terrified of becoming parents, we'd be bloody daft.” James sniffed and pulled back to look at me.

“You seem to be dealing with this so much better than me,” he observed. At this I laughed once, loudly.

“Have you forgotten the complete mental breakdown I had earlier this week?”

“No, I haven't forgotten. You were worried about the baby, and that's natural. But you seem so calm about becoming a mum,” he pointed out.

“James, believe me, I'm not calm about it!” I said, half-laughing. “But do you know what helps me?”

“No,” James said, shaking his head.

“Knowing that I have you. As long as I have you, I know I can do anything.” At this James broke out into a wide smile, then gave me a kiss, which turned into another, and another. When he pulled away James smiled at me again, his eyes twinkling. “You know, when I look at you... I don't see some geriatric, wrinkly, crippled old fart,” I said, and James giggled.

“No?” He asked, sounding amused.

“Mno. I see a man with... Gorgeous, blue eyes that crinkle up in this adorable way when he laughs. And his long hair has these silver-streaks that I find very sexy. And he has the most attractive arms and hands I've seen on any man...” I continued, running my palm down his arm. James listened quietly, but he was blinking and averting his eyes, looking flustered. “But most important of all, I see a man who is incredibly kind and thoughtful, who has a good head on his shoulders and who can fix anything. I see a man who is playful and child-like, and sometimes very childish, and who can make me laugh until I pee my pants. And I see a man who can make me weak at the knees just by looking at me in a certain way, a man who is my perfect lover. That doesn't sound like some wrinkled, sad old geezer does it?” I finished in a challenging voice. Not getting an answer I raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for a reply.

“Hmm, no...” he conceded, almost unwillingly. “I'm not absolutely certain you were talking about me just then,” he teased, leaning in for a kiss.

“I was,” I assured him, feeling his lips meet mine. He tried to convey so many things with that kiss, his gratitude as well as his love and adoration for me. Eventually, reluctantly, he let go of my lips and rested his head against my shoulder again.

“You didn't say anything about my fat stomach,” he added as an afterthought, and I guffawed with laughter.

“If you're fretting that much over your gut bucket, then cut back on pies and join a bloody gym, will you!” I shrieked, still laughing.

“Emily!” James gasped, sounding horribly affronted, as if I had suggested he'd take up prostitution. “Take that back! Or you're sleeping on the sofa!”

“Okay okay, I take it all back, don't cut back on pies, god forbid!” I laughed, relieved to see James returning to his normal self. “Feel better?” I asked when my laughter had subsided.

“Yes, a little. Still scared, but... Like you said – as long as I know I have you, I know I can do anything,” he echoed.