Page 52 of Pregnant in Plaid
"Do you?"
I think about his notes in the pregnancy book. His calls to Dr. Martinez. The way he's made space for me in his home without making me feel like a burden.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "I do."
"Good. Now go home."
Home. The word catches me off guard.
When did his cabin become home?
Trace pulls up ten minutes later, truck warm and waiting.
"How was it?" he asks as I climb in.
"Good. Overwhelming. Emotional."
"All the best chick parties are." He glances at me. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just tired."
"Bachelor party was pretty tame. Darts, bad jokes, and Gage getting roasted by every guy over forty."
"Sounds fun."
"It had its moments." He pauses. "How was the bachelorette party?"
"Not too bad. They were actually really nice about giving me some baby advice."
"Yeah? What'd they say?"
"That I'm not alone. That everyone's terrified. That you've been calling Dr. Martinez's office three times a week."
He winces. "She told you that?"
"She did."
"I just wanted to be prepared."
"I know." I look out the window at the snow. "It's a lot of information. Makes sense you'd have questions."
"You're not mad?"
"Why would I be mad?"
"I don't know. Felt like going behind your back maybe."
"You were trying to help. That's not the same thing."
He's quiet for a moment. "How was seeing Tessa? You two get to talk?"
"Yeah. About the wedding. About my parents." My voice catches. "About being scared."
"And?"
"And she said I'll figure it out. That everyone does."
"She's right, you know."
