Lymber craft's Arc

Chapter 43 of 70

In the morning Lymber called the clinic before Paul left for work. She kept her voice low at the kitchen counter so Violetta wouldn't hear from the other room. The woman on the phone asked how far along. Lymber said ten weeks. The woman gave her a slot at two. Lymber hung up and told Paul. He nodded once and said he'd move his afternoon. She looked at the puppy asleep under Violetta's chair and thought about her mother. Polly's rule was Polly's rule. But the scan was hers first. She would call her mother after, with a picture in her hand. They dropped the kids at the neighbor's at one thirty and drove to the clinic together. The waiting room smelled the same as the last two times. Lymber signed in and gave the same scripted answers she had used twice before. One partner. Paul. A date that matched the math. The nurse walked them back and Lymber lay down and lifted her shirt. The gel was cold. The wand pressed. On the screen a small shape flickered, and then the sound came through the speaker, fast and even. The tech said ten weeks and two days. She printed three photos and handed them to Paul. He held them by the corner like they might tear. He said, Okay. Then he said, She's real. Lymber corrected him without meaning to. She said, They're real. He looked at her. He said, Yeah. In the car Lymber put the top photo on the dash and took out her phone. She dialed her mother. Polly picked up on the second ring. Lymber said, I'm pregnant. I'm ten weeks. We just left the clinic. There was a long pause. Then Polly said, You told me after. Lymber said, I told you the same day. Polly breathed out. She said, Bring the picture over tonight. The kids too. She hung up. Paul reached across and put his hand on Lymber's knee. Lymber slid the ultrasound photo into her bag and started counting backward in her head. Ten weeks now. Thirty to go. The town didn't know. The kids didn't know. Her mother knew, and she was angry, but she knew. That was the order Lymber could live with.