Music of the Soul (Runaway Train #2.5)(42)

When the nurse called us back, I could barely control my excitement. Unlike our first ultrasound, I wasn’t scared or apprehensive. Instead, I was just so excited to find out what we were having.

The ultrasound tech, whose nametag read Jess, came in with her head buried in our chart. The moment she glanced up and took us in, she said, “Holy shit!”

“Guess she recognizes us,” I murmured to Jake.

She grinned. “I thought the names on the chart sounded familiar but…wow!”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Jake said, extending his hand.

With a trembling hand, she shook it. After staring at us for a moment, she finally pulled herself together and became professional again. “Right. Sorry about that. Totally lost my mind for a moment.” Taking the bottle of gel in her hand, she squirted some on my exposed belly. “Let’s see what we have here.”

The grainy image of the twins came on the screen. I never tired of seeing them—their tiny hands and legs flailing, the sight of their hearts beating strong in their chests.

“So Baby A is a…” She glanced over at us, appearing to enjoy torturing us with the suspense. “A boy.”

I squeezed Jake’s hand and stared up at him. “We’re going to have a son.”

His response was to kiss me. When he pulled away, he smiled. “And the other baby?” he asked Jess.

“Looks like you’re getting one of each—Baby B is a girl.”

“Really?” I asked.

She nodded. “Everything looks really good with them—strong heartbeats, healthy placenta. Of course, it looks like your son is stealing a bit of the calories since he’s bigger.” She pointed to the screen to show us the difference.

“But she’ll be all right, won’t she?” Jake asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

“Yes, she’ll be fine.” Jess then printed a few pictures complete with baby A and B identified with their genders. When she finished, she gave me a towel to wipe off my belly. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” I said, as I pulled myself into a sitting position.

When she got to the door, her hand hesitated on the doorknob before she turned back to us. “Would you mind signing something for me?”

“We’d be happy to,” I replied.

We ended up signing a few pieces of paper before we escaped out the door. When we got into the limo, I took out the pictures to look at the twins again.

As he rubbed my stomach, Jake smiled at me. “Now that we know what we’re having, what about names?”

“Hmm, good question. I know I want our daughter to have your mother’s name.”

Jake’s expression pained as he stilled his hand on my abdomen. “That’s really sweet, Angel, but I don’t think I can bear calling her Susan. It would hurt too much.”

I cupped his cheek with my hand. “Then we’ll call her something else. What was your mother’s full name?”

“Julia Susannah. Papa and Grandmother shortened it to Susan.”

“That’s a beautiful name for our daughter.” I patted his hand on my belly. “What if we called her Jules? That’s kind of a sassy little nickname. And if she’s anything like your mom or me, she’ll be sassy.”

Jake grinned. “I agree. And I love that. Jules Slater sounds like a future rock goddess, too.”

“It does.”

“And for our son?”

“He needs his father’s name in there somewhere.”

Jake wrinkled his nose. “He’s getting my last name. What about something of yours?”

I shrugged. “We could give him my dad’s name as a middle name.”

“Andrew’s a good, strong name.” He winked. “And biblical.”

“So is Jacob,” I countered.

Jake laughed. “Fine. We’ll think about using my name as a middle name too.”

“I like using family names and giving our babies history.”

“So do I, but at the same time, I don’t think you want to use my Papa’s name.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I love him, but I don’t want to name our son Herbert.”

“Neither do I.”

Jake’s phone dinged in his pocket, and he pulled it out. He read the text and grimaced. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“That was Loren. He’s been researching the auditorium in Boise, and he thinks we’re going to need to scrap doing Jackson or add in another song with it because the way the stage is built.”

I gasped. “That’s it.”

Jake’s brows furrowed. “What’s it?”

“Jackson.”

“You want to name our son after the duet we’re doing?”

“Not entirely. My mom’s maiden name is Jackson.”

Jake appeared to be thinking about the name. “Jackson Slater…Jax Slater.” He grinned. “I like that a lot.”

“Jacob Jackson Slater,” I said, with a smile.

He rolled his eyes. “Andrew Jackson Slater,” he countered.

“Then it sounds like we named him after the president.”

Jake laughed. “I guess you’re right.” He rubbed my belly. “So, Jax and Jules it is.”