Chapter 18: Nine Years Ago

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Chapter 18: Nine Years Ago


Amelia


"Oh my God, are you serious, Mom?" I gasp, staring incredulously at my mother and feeling my cheeks and neck burn bright red with a mixture of embarrassment and shock.

Am I really going to have to give my mother the talk?

I know I've never really talked to her about Sam before, not in excruciating detail anyway, but I always assumed she knew enough to know transgender men couldn't knock up their cis female partners. It's just not how biology works. Trust me, if we could do it that way, we would've done so in a heartbeat.

It would've saved us thousands of dollars.

"We've been doing IVF for the last few months," Sam adds with a casual smile. I look sharply up at him, trying to gauge his expression. If he's offended, he's not showing it. He looks completely unperturbed. When he gives my hand a squeeze, I relax a little.

"I'm gonna be an aunt!" Abby screeches suddenly, making Ty jump beside her.

Everyone is standing up now and hurrying around the table. They take turns hugging and congratulating us. Nat can't help herself. She gives me a second hug when there's a pause in all of the excitement.

"I'm so happy for the both of you!" she says in my ear, and then proceeds to fling her arms around Sam's neck. "Congratulations!" she tells him.

"Thanks," Sam replies as Abby dashes over to give us both a hug too, followed by my mom and dad.

"Congratulations, sweetheart," my dad grins and kisses my hair.

"Thanks dad," I beam up at him.

"How far along are you?" Nat asks.

"Almost nine weeks, it rolls over on Tuesdays, so I'm about eight and a half, technically," I tell them, putting both my hands flat against my shirt.

"Turn around, show us the belly!" Abby commands. She clasps her hands together in excitement and I'm afraid she's going to start ripping my clothes off if I don't act fast enough.

I do as I'm told and lift up my shirt, laughing softly.

"I'm not actually showing yet, but if you touch it, it does feel a little harder," I explain, which leads to everyone wanting to put their hands on me and feel for themselves. I don't show them the ultrasounds we got from the fertility clinic. We don't want to tell anybody we're having twins until the end of the first trimester.

By the time we're ready to leave a few hours later, I'm completely drained. I think I'm done socializing until Christmas.

"You'll tell us if you need anything," my mother says, hovering in the mudroom.

"Yes mama, don't worry, I'm OK," I assure her, giving her hand a squeeze.

"I'm taking good care of her," Sam grins, touching my shoulder briefly.

"I know," my mom smiles at him and gives us both a hug. "Don't forget to text me when you get home. Put those in the fridge or it'll go bad," she adds, gesturing to the plastic bag in Sam's hand, filled with Tupperware containers. We've got about three days' worth of leftovers.

After saying goodbye, we walk outside together hand in hand, not saying a word. The gravel crunches underneath our feet and we can hear the sound of crickets in the tall grass a few yards away where the fields start. We stop near the barn between Sam's truck and my car.

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