Page 10 of Pregnant in Plaid
"WHAT?!" The word comes out so loud that a nearby family startles and a pigeon takes flight. "You're PREGNANT? How long have you been pregnant? Why didn't you tell me? Oh my God, when are you due? WHO'S THE FATHER?"
That last question hangs in the air between us like a grenade with the pin pulled.
I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again. I look like a very pregnant fish.
"It's, um," I start, then chicken out. "It's complicated."
"Complicated?" Tessa repeats, her voice climbing toward frequencies only dogs can hear. "Patrice Henley, you are seven months pregnant and you didn't tell your best friend, and now you're saying it'scomplicated?"
"Okay, yes, I know how that sounds?—"
"It sounds INSANE. It sounds like you've been hiding a WHOLE HUMAN in your body and justcasually decided to mention it when you showed up to my wedding looking like you're smuggling a basketball!"
"Technically it's more like a watermelon at this point," I say, which is absolutely not helpful.
Tessa stares at me. Then she grabs my suitcase handle with one hand and my arm with the other. "We're going to the car. Right now. And you're going to tell me everything. And I meaneverything."
"Can I pee first?"
"NO."
"Tessa, I'm seven months pregnant. I always have to pee. It's basically my superpower now."
She sighs, releases my arm, and points toward the terminal. "Fine. But make it fast. And when you get back, you're spilling every single detail or I'm uninviting you from my wedding."
"You can't uninvite your maid of honor!"
"Watch me!"
I waddle back inside—because there's no other way to describe my current method of locomotion—and find the bathroom. The woman at the sink gives my belly a knowing look and says, "Third trimester?"
"Yep."
"The peeing never stops."
"So I'm learning."
By the time I emerge, Tessa has loaded my suitcase into the back of Gage's truck and is sitting in the driver's seat with her arms crossed and an expressionthat clearly saysyou have five seconds to start talking or I will drive this truck into a snowbank.
I climb in—which takes three times longer than it should because pregnancy has stolen my ability to do anything quickly—and buckle the seatbelt under my belly because above is no longer an option.
Tessa turns to face me. "Talk."
"Okay, so?—"
"And don't leave anything out."
"Right, so the thing is?—"
"Including the father."
"Especially the father," I mutter.
"What?"
"Nothing. Okay. Here's the situation." I take a deep breath, which is harder than it used to be because my lungs are currently being used as a footrest by a tiny human. "Remember that night we all went out? After you moved up here?"
Tessa's eyes narrow. "The night I got drunk and Gage took me home early?"
