Page 28 of Pregnant in Plaid
Something in my chest that's been tight since yesterday finally loosens. "You've got me. For all of it. Every appointment, every craving, every middle-of-the-night panic attack. I'm here."
"Even though I'm a mess?"
"Especially because you're a mess. We can be messes together."
She smiles, and it's the first real smile I've seen from her since she arrived. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay." She steps back, and my hands fall away from her face. "But you're canceling that doctor's appointment."
"Consider it done."
"And you're not making any more decisions about my medical care without asking me first."
"Understood."
"And—" She pauses, considering. "You're teaching me how to make bacon that good."
I grin. "Deal."
She heads back down the hallway, probably to get dressed, and I lean against the counter, feeling like I just survived something intense and important.
My phone buzzes. A text from Gage.
Gage: You still alive?
Me: Barely. We had a fight.
Gage: About?
Me: I may have scheduled a doctor's appointment without asking her first.
Gage: You idiot.
Me: Yeah, I'm aware.
Gage: Did you apologize?
Me: Groveled, actually.
Gage: Good. Tessa wants to know if Patrice is okay.
Me: Define okay. But yeah. We're figuring it out.
Gage: That's all any of us can do.
I set my phone down and start cleaning up breakfast, feeling lighter than I have since yesterday.
We're figuring it out. Together.
And we're going to be okay.
When Patrice emerges again, she's showered and dressed, looking more put-together than she has any right to after crying in mykitchen.
"So," she says, leaning against the doorframe. "What do we do now?"
I look at her—this strong, stubborn, terrified woman who's carrying my baby and trying so hard to hold everything together—and I know exactly what I need to say.
