"It's definitely not a chipmunk," Dr Luke assures me with an easy smile. "Your little blob is a human fetus, I'm quite certain. Heart rate is perfect and the baby is measuring at under three centimeters, which is right where it should be."

"So everything looks good?" Kyle asks, nodding toward the screen. "This all looks normal?" I wonder if he's worried because he thinks it looks like a blob too? He seems a little tense.

"Everything looks great," Luke says. "Daisy, if you decide to stay in Philadelphia you'll want to get a local OB/GYN as soon as possible so you can get on their schedule. I can refer you to someone in my practice if like."

I nod, but it's a noncommittal nod because I've got no idea if I'm staying in Philadelphia or not. But it's fine, I've got time. I've got six and a half months to decide, right? Six and a half months to gestate and set up a nursery. Pick up a car seat and a pack of diapers. It's fine. Except... it doesn't feel fine. It feels like it might be time to panic a little. It feels like it might be time to make... plans. And plans are the worst. Violet is the planner, not me. I'm the free spirit. She's the responsible one.

Free spirits make great parents though, right? Good enough parents? Passable parents? Am I going to totally fuck this kid up?

The sonogram machine hums and a strip of photos emerges. Luke separates them and hands a set to each of us. "Copies for each of you," he says, as if it's normal to hand out duplicates because the two people who commingled their DNA to create a baby don't have their relationship sorted out yet.

You can't split a baby though.

Wait. "It's just one baby, right?" I ask, suddenly panicked. "I'm a twin. Doesn't that increase my chances of having twins? You're sure it's just one? You're very sure?"

"Just one," Luke promises me and I audibly sigh in relief. That's something at least. "Congratulations," he adds, handing me a towel to wipe off with before he leaves the room with a promise to put a rush on the lab work.

Kyle is distracted, staring at the photos in his hand, so I rest my own strip across my boobs while I wipe the gel off my stomach, keeping an eye on him. He's pacing across the three foot of available floor space in the exam room, clearly in his own head. I wonder what he's thinking about? I wonder if he wants to back out of having anything to do with this baby? It's probably hard to feel a connection with a grainy blob on a screen located inside of a woman you barely know.

It's okay though. Despite my mini-freakout just now, I can handle this by myself.

He's silent as I slide off the table, though the blasted crinkle paper snaps him out of his daze and he offers me a hand to steady me. He's silent as we retrace our steps toward the hospital entrance. He's silent as we exit the hospital through the automatic doors. When we're outside, a few feet past the entrance, he stops.

"That was humbling, don't you think?" he asks, searching my face, his eyes purposeful, like he wants to dig around in my brain and know everything I'm thinking.

"What was? I'm the one who had to hike up my shirt and get covered in goo." I wrinkle my nose in confusion.

"Hearing the heartbeat. Seeing the baby." He places both of his hands on my hips, his eyes dropping to my midsection before moving back to meet my eyes. "What did you think?"

"Um, I..." I felt like I was in love with the chipmunk. I felt terrified. I felt happy. Excited and alarmed and awed and overwhelmed. Protective and hopeful and anxious. "I don't know," is what I tell him. "I felt a lot of different things."

He nods, a small, barely noticeable tilt of his head while he stares at me. He's got nice eyes. Blue, same as me. His are lighter though, with flecks of green. I wonder if the baby will have eyes that remind me of Kyle’s.

"This is bigger than you or me, Daisy. It's bigger than just the two of us. There's another person involved here. Another life involved. I think we owe it to this baby to do our best by it."

"So you want to marry me out of a sense of honor?" I reply slowly. So he's not looking for an escape hatch, he's still on this marriage-of-convenience idea?

"Is that such a bad thing, Daisy?" His eyes flash. "To conduct yourself with honor? A baby is a big deal to me."

"So we should stay together for the sake of the children?" I question. "Circa 1965?" Yet isn't this what I've always wanted? A man who would behave like a grown-up? Take responsibility? A man who would show an interest in the future? The kind of man who remembered to get rental insurance before he flooded his apartment with a kegerator malfunction?

He shrugs and steps back, his hands falling from my hips as he glances at the parking lot instead of at me. "I'm not suggesting you saddle yourself with me forever. If you find being with me so distasteful you could always leave."

"Whenever I want?"

"After a suitable amount of time, yes."

"Suitable? Define suitable."

"Look, Daisy." He turns and meets my eyes again. "I'm thirty-four years old. I've just taken over my grandfather’s company. I'm not looking for a dramatic two-week marriage followed by an annulment and bad press. I don't have the time or inclination and it's bad for business."

Oh, wow, be still my heart. I don't hide the skepticism from my expression.

"I need you to let me help. There's no reason for you to do this alone." He's taken the car keys from his pocket and he's bouncing them in his hand as he talks. He's back to not looking at me again.

I'm a bit bewildered. He needs me? No one has ever really needed me before. I'm an identical twin and I'm definitely the extra one. Violet is the one you'd pick out. I'm the gift with purchase. Though he really only needs me because I'm the incubator. It's not like he'd have chosen this on purpose. Chosen me.

We continue on to his car, some kind of high-end Land Rover. It occurs to me as he's holding the door for me that he's already better prepared for a baby than I am. I drive a two-door Honda Civic coupé. Can I put a car seat into the back of a coupé? Legally? Logistically? Would the car seat even fit through the door opening with the front seat flipped forward? Would I have to tilt the carrier sideways to wiggle it through with the baby precariously suspended in the carrier?

I need to get a new car.

I have time though. I could trade my car in like the weekend before the baby arrives. No biggie.

I'm not even going to worry about my one-bedroom apartment. The baby is going to be really small for a really long time and I've got room for a crib. I will need my sister to move out though. If she doesn't get her own place before she finds out about this baby she's never going to leave.

On the bright side, my plan of pushing Violet outside of her comfort zone is working like a charm because she's having some kind of torrid affair with a British guy from the tour I sent her on. By torrid I mean they had sex, which is a really big deal for Violet because she's a bit of a prude and I don't think she's ever had sex with anyone who hadn't already pledged to be in love with her.

Anyway.

I'm staring at Kyle's backseat when he slides behind the wheel. It's quite roomy back there. I bet a car seat would fit through the back door with ease. No tilting or accidentally whacking the carrier against the doorframe trying to squeeze it in.