Page 74 of Pregnant in Plaid
"Best decision I ever made," he says simply.
"Okay, you two are adorable and it's making me nauseous," Patrice says, but she's smiling. "Where's the food? I'm starving."
"Over there," I say, pointing to the buffet table. "Want me to get you a plate?"
"I can get my own plate."
"I know you can. But you don't have to."
She looks at me for a long moment, something soft in her eyes. "Okay. Thanks."
I load up two plates—one for her, one for me—while she finds a table. By the time I get back, she's already been cornered by Old Jim, who's telling her some long story about ice fishing that she's politely pretending to find interesting.
"Help me," she mouths when she sees me.
I set the plates down and slide into the seat next to her. "Jim, you're monopolizing the prettiest woman at the wedding."
"Besides the bride," Patrice corrects.
"Including the bride," I state.
Jim laughs and wanders off to find another victim. Patrice immediately starts eating, making littleappreciative noises that remind me of yesterday's egg incident at breakfast. It’s been the same sound with each meal I’ve made her.
"Good?" I ask.
"So good. I don't know what Jake did to this salmon, but it's incredible."
We eat and watch as the reception gets into full swing. Gage and Tessa cut the cake—a small, simple thing with wildflowers on top. They feed each other pieces without smashing it into each other's faces, which Tessa declared was "uncivilized" during the planning.
Then the dancing starts.
Their first dance is to some slow country song that makes everyone sway and smile. They move together easily, Gage's hand firm on Tessa's back, her head resting on his shoulder. It's simple and perfect and makes me want things I didn't know I wanted six months ago.
"They're good together," Patrice says quietly.
"Yeah. They are."
"Makes you think, doesn't it?"
I look at her. "About what?"
"About finding someone who fits. Someone who makes you want to be better." She's watching the couple, but there's something wistful in her voice. "I never thought I wanted that. I was so focused on my career, my plans. And then—" She stops, hand on her stomach.
"And then?"
"And then everything changed." She looks at me. "For the better, I think. Even though it's terrifying."
"What's terrifying about it?"
"All of it. Giving up control. Trusting someone else. Believing they won't leave when things get hard." She pauses. "My parents had that. They were a team, you know? Even at the end—after the accident—I could see how much they loved each other. That kind of love—it's beautiful, but it's also scary as hell."
I reach over and take her hand. "You're not your mom. And I'm not your dad. We get to write our own story."
"What if I'm not brave enough to do this?"
"You flew across the country pregnant to take a job you believed in. You're brave."
She squeezes my hand. "You keep saying stuff like that."
