Diego closed his eyes and beamed.

Carla took a deep breath and got out of the car. She waved to Diego and headed toward the hospital. Her stomach was bloated with water and she was desperate for the washroom.

Tom was already waiting for her inside the building.

He still looked tired and drawn, but his stubble was now gone. His hair was longer than he usually wore it and color had returned to his cheeks.

Carla wanted to hold him, like she used to, but his shoulders and jaw were stiff. It was like there was a sheet of glass between them that neither of them knew how to break.

As they both sat down, she tried to make a joke about their lack of physical contact. “I’ve drunk so much water, it’s a good thing you didn’t squeeze me just then.” She jiggled a leg, trying to keep her thoughts off her bladder. “There could have been an accident.”

“Thanks for the warning. I’m wearing new shoes,” Tom said with the slightest smile.

Carla looked down. “They’re very nice shoes.”

“Thanks. I wore them to the funeral.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t notice.”

“We both had a lot on our minds.”

“Yes, yes, we did.”

Carla was glad they were conversing, even if it was awkward.

They didn’t speak for a while and her eyes swept over the posters on the wall—tips for breastfeeding, weaning and how to put on a diaper. Information for when everything went right, not for when it went wrong.

Tom broke their silence. “I arrived early and sat in the car listening to the radio for a while. ‘Lucky Man’ by The Verve came on. It’s one of my favorite songs.”

“I didn’t know you liked that one. I like it, too.”

A third good omen? she thought.

“I hope the title refers to me,” Tom added.

Carla pricked up her ears. “I didn’t think you believed in things like that.”

“I’m trying to be more open-minded.”

“When I pulled into the parking lot, ‘Lucky, Lucky Me’ by Marvyn Gaye was playing,” she said.

“Good track.” Tom nodded. “I haven’t heard that one for ages.”

A nurse appeared and called them into a dim room where a sonographer sat waiting. She introduced herself as Sonia and told them more about the scan.

Carla lay on her back with her top rolled up. The gel tickled when it squirted onto her stomach.

“Sorry, it’s a bit cold.” Sonia pressed the transducer against Carla’s belly and moved it around.

Carla stared up at the ceiling, trying to avoid looking at the screen. Her thoughts were free-falling, her mind replaying the dreaded words that had stayed with her and Aaron for years. There’s no heartbeat.

She looked at the corners of the room, at the unlit lighting strip, at the signs on the wall showing how to wash your hands properly. Time seemed to take forever and Sonia kept pressing and moving. Carla was aware of Tom’s shallow breathing and her fingers curled into her palms, needing to touch something, feel something, because she didn’t have his hand to hold.

Eventually Sonia spoke again. “The baby is growing well and has a nice strong heartbeat.”

Carla heard a whoosh of breath and realized it came from her. Tension evaporated from her body and she felt like she was floating.

“Would you like to look at the screen?” Sonia asked.

Carla saw Tom was already facing the computer, his handsome features lit by a silver light. She saw wonderment in his eyes.

She slowly turned her head, too, focusing on the gray shapes on the screen. She could see a head and arms and legs, and something seedlike and dark pulsing away.

“That’s the baby’s heart,” Sonia said, pointing at it.

Carla felt her lips start to tremble, and tears suddenly burst from her eyes, flooding down her cheeks. She felt Tom’s hand seek out her own and he squeezed her fingers tightly. His thumb soothed the back of her hand.

“You’re seventeen to eighteen weeks pregnant,” Sonia said.

“Oh gosh. I had no idea I was that far along. Almost halfway there.”

“Would you both like to know the sex of the baby?”

Carla’s and Tom’s eyes met and they nodded excitedly to each other. “Yes, please,” they chorused.

“You’re having a boy. Congratulations.” Sonia printed out an image of the baby and passed it to Carla. “We’ll get you booked in for your twenty-week development scan and I’ll leave you here to get dressed and to use the washroom.”

“I thought I was getting bigger,” Carla said to herself. She wiped her stomach with tissue and repositioned her top. When she stood up, her urge to pee returned and she noticed Tom staring at her.

“Your face is glowing,” he said. “I’ve been longing to tell you, but a funeral didn’t seem the right place to do so.”

“Thanks,” Carla replied. She threw the tissue into a bin.

“Carla, I want to—” he started.

But Carla really, desperately needed the toilet. She performed a jig on the spot and couldn’t wait any longer. “Sorry, Tom. I’ve got to use the bathroom.” She pressed the photo into his hand and ran for the door.

“Carla...” he called after her.

They met ten minutes later at the front of the building. Impending parenthood felt exciting and scary and now very real. Knowing her pregnancy was going well so far meant Carla could start to plan and tell the rest of her relatives. No doubt word would soon get around like the beat of jungle drums, especially because she was carrying a boy.

“I’m so relieved everything’s looking okay. Would you like to go for a walk?” Tom asked her.

“Oh, sorry.” Carla gestured over her shoulder. “Diego’s waiting for me in the car. I should get back to him.”

“Oh, okay.” He worked his lips. “Perhaps another time.”

She patted her hands to her sides. “We’ll need to meet up to discuss the baby.”