“Yeah, I know,” I agreed with a sigh, as I slid my arm around his waist. “But do you want to know something that made me feel really comfortable?”
“Hm?”
“You, Joe.” I smiled up at him. “What you did back there in the office with Mr. Nyhan? What you said? It meant a lot to me.”
He looked down at me, brows furrowed. “I didn’t do anything, Molloy.”
“Yes, you did,” I replied, leaning into his side, as we walked over to my car. “And it meant everything.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he replied, still looking confused. “You driving, baby?”
“Nah.” I shook my head and tossed him the keys. “Can you do something for me?”
“Name it.”
“Stay with me tonight.”
He sighed heavily. “Molloy.”
“Don’t say no.” Sinking into the passenger seat, I tossed my schoolbag over my shoulder into the backseat before turning my attention to Joey, who was cranking the engine. “Say yes.”
“What about the kids?”
“What about you?” I shot back, flicking on the car stereo and nodding my approval when No Doubt’s Underneath It All drifted from the speakers. “This one’s you, Joe.”
“Give it a rest with the songs,” he muttered. “And I’m grand.”
“Your face tells a different story.”
“Aoife.”
“Joey.” I reached across the console and covered the hand he was resting on the gearstick with mine. “Please.”
He didn’t answer me until he had pulled away from the school and was on the main road. Only then did he release a sigh and turn his hand over.
“You win, Molloy.” He entwined his fingers with mine. “Again.”
“Yay.”
“So, are you ready for this?” he asked, attention flicking between my face and the road ahead of us. “To see the baby?”
“No,” I admitted quietly. “Are you?”
“No.” He squeezed my hand. “But we’ve got this, Molloy.”
MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE CHANGED OUR CLOTHES?
JOEY
“Joe, it’s me, Shannon. I’m on the way to Dublin with the school. I won’t be back until late tonight. Can you tell Mam? He has my phone so don’t call it, okay? You won’t be able to get ahold of me, but I’m okay, Joe. Don’t worry about—"
I replayed the voicemail my sister left me for the third time and contemplated how the hell I was going to smooth this over at home.
Deleting the message from my phone, I slid my phone back into my pocket and ran a hand through my hair in frustration.
Mam was going to hit the roof.
The old man would blow a fuse if he found out.
“Maybe we should have changed our clothes,” Molloy whisper-hissed, drawing my attention back to the present.
We were sitting in an overcrowded waiting room at the maternity hospital, surrounded by heavily pregnant women and their husbands – any number of which could have been mistaken for our parents.
“It’s grand,” I replied, resting my hand on her bouncing knee. “I’ve got you, Molloy.”
“Yeah, Joe, that’s the point,” she mumbled. “Everyone here knows just how well you got me.”
I laughed because in all honesty what else could I do in this moment?
She wasn’t wrong.
We were sitting in our BCS uniforms and attracting an array of different looks from the people around us.
Pity. Disgust. Sympathy. Surprise.
The list went on.
“Fuck them,” I told her, casting a warning glare to a particularly pervy father-to-be who was eyeing my girlfriend’s legs. “They don’t know us.”
“Joe, we’re the only teenagers here,” she continued to ramble, tone panicked. “That girl over there looks like she’s in her early twenties, but that’s it. All these women are way older than me.”
“It doesn’t matter, Molloy,” I tried to soothe. “Age is just a number.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, smoothing down the hem of her pleated skirt. “You’re absolutely right, Joe.” Reaching for my hand, she shifted closer, welding her side to mine. “God, I need to pee so bad.”
“Just hold it,” I replied. “You read the form. It said you need a full bladder.”
“Yeah, but it’s so uncomfortable.” She squirmed in discomfort. “Distract me.”
“How?”
“Tell me who was on the phone?”
“Shannon,” I replied, sighing heavily. “She’s gone to Dublin with the school.”
“Really? You never mentioned it.”
“Because I didn’t know,” I admitted. “Yeah, that’ll be fun to explain to the old man when he gets wind of it.”
“No.” Her hand tightened around mine. “No, no, no, you don’t need to explain anything, okay? You need to just stay away from that asshole. Let your mother handle it.”
“Molloy.”
“I’m serious, Joe,” she choked out, pulling my hand onto her lap. “I can’t cope with knowing he’s hurting you—"
“Aoife Molloy?” a frazzled looking nurse called out, thankfully putting an end to the conversation. “You’re up, sweetheart.”
“Oh Jesus.” Looking like a deer caught in headlights, Molloy sprang to her feet, dragging me with her. “Don’t leave me, Joe,” she whispered, with a death grip on my hand, as we followed the nurse. “Don’t leave my side.”
“I won’t,” I promised, letting her pull me into the dimly lit room with her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“My name is Margaret, and I’m the ultrasound technician,” the woman introduced herself, closing the door behind us. “You’re here for your dating scan, is that right?”
“Uh, yeah?” Molloy croaked out, and then reluctantly let go of my hand when the woman led her over to the examination table. “Uh, he’s the father, so can he stay with me?”
“Sure, Dad can sit on the chair next to you.”
Dad.
Holy fuck.
“Joe?” Molloy squeezed out, eyeing me meaningfully from her perch on the table, as she laid on her back and held out her hand.
“Shit, yeah.” Shaking my head to clear the panic, I closed the space between us, and sank down on the chair next to the table and grabbed her hand.
“According to your notes, this is your first pregnancy,” the technician stated, as she lubed my girlfriend’s belly with a bottle of clear gel. “The first day of your last menstrual cycle was December fourteenth, is that correct?”
“Uh, yeah,” Molloy croaked out. “That’s right. I had some spotting at the end of January, but my friend was saying that might be—”
“Implantation bleeding,” the technician filled in with a knowing nod. “Uh-huh. And you’re a half twin, is that right?” Stuffing a wad of tissues under the waistband of my girlfriend’s skirt, she fiddled with the ultrasound machine next to the table, tapping buttons and typing on the little keyboard. “Fraternal? Dizygotic?”