Page 29 of Pregnant in Plaid
"Now?" I cross my arms, meeting her eyes. "Now we do this right. You tell me everything. Due date, doctor appointments, what you've been eating, if you've been taking vitamins, all of it. You stop trying to handle everything alone. And I stop trying to control everything."
"That sounds reasonable."
"I'm also probably going to hover. A lot. It's going to be annoying."
"I can handle annoying."
"And I'm going to ask you approximately eight hundred questions about pregnancy because those podcasts I listened to last night were informative but not comprehensive."
"Only eight hundred?"
"Today. Tomorrow I'll have more."
She laughs, and the sound fills the cabin like sunlight. "You know what? I can work with that."
"Good." I push off the counter. "Because I would've been there. For all of it. Every appointment, every milestone, every moment. I missed seven months, Patrice. But I'm damn sure going to be there from now on."
She looks at me for a long moment, something shifting in her expression. Then she nods.
"Okay," she says quietly. "Okay."
And for the first time since she told me I'm going to be a father, I feel like we might actually pull this off.
Yeah.
We're going to be okay.
Chapter 6
Patrice
Ikeep the appointment.
Not because Trace made it without asking—though I'm still annoyed about that—but because he's right. As much as I hate admitting it, I need a local doctor while I'm here. And Dr. Martinez comes highly recommended, apparently delivered half the babies in Ashwood Falls including some kid Tessa knows from Book Club or yoga or whatever small-town activity they do here.
"You don't have to come with me," I tell Trace for the third time as we pull into the parking lot of Ashwood Falls Medical Center.
"I know," he says, killing the engine. "I'm coming anyway."
"I'm capable of going to a doctor's appointment alone. I've been doing it for seven months."
"I know that too." He gets out and comes around toopen my door before I can do it myself. "But you're not alone anymore. So I'm coming."
I want to argue. I really do. But the truth is, having him here feels... nice. Which is terrifying in its own way, but I'm choosing not to examine that too closely right now.
The medical center is small but clean, all wood paneling and watercolor paintings of Alaskan landscapes. The waiting room smells like antiseptic and something floral that's probably supposed to be calming but just makes me think of funeral homes.
The receptionist looks up as we walk in, and her face lights up with recognition.
"Trace!" She's maybe mid-fifties, with graying hair and a smile that takes up half her face. "Haven't seen you in ages! How's that cabin coming along?"
"Hey, Linda." He sounds genuinely pleased to see her. "Cabin's good. Finally finished the guest bathroom."
"About time. You've been working on that thing for what, two years?" Her eyes shift to me, taking in my very obvious pregnancy with practiced assessment. "And who's this?"
"Patrice." I offer my hand. "I have an appointment with Dr. Martinez."
"Oh!" Linda's eyes widen as she does the math. Trace plus pregnant woman equals... "Oh! Well, welcome to Ashwood Falls! Let me get you checked in."
