Page 53 of Pregnant in Plaid
We drive in comfortable silence, snow falling light outside.
"So tell me about Gage's bachelor party." I say.
"Like I said, it was pretty tame for a bachelor party. But there was this moment with a baby doll."
"I'm sorry, what?"
He grins. "One of the guys brought a doll to practice diaper changing on. It went about as well as you'd expect."
"You didn't."
"Oh, I did. And I failed spectacularly." He shakes his head. "Gage wasn't much better. We're both doomed."
"At least you're trying to learn."
"Trying being the key word." He glances at me. "Did they tell you what to expect with the baby?"
"Some. Mostly just reassurance that everyone's terrified and nobody knows what they're doing."
"Comforting."
"Oddly, yeah."
Back at the cabin, he makes tea without asking. We end up on the couch, same as every night this week.
It's becoming a routine, I realize. This end-of-day ritual where we decompress together. It should feel strange, but it doesn't.
"So," he says carefully. "Did the women of Ashwood Falls give you the third degree about me?"
"Oh god, yes. Marnie was particularly enthusiastic."
He laughs. "That sounds about right. What'd she say?"
"That you're good with your hands."
His ears turn red. "She meant woodworking."
"That's what Emma said."
"And what did you think she meant?"
I take a sip of tea to hide my smile. "I plead the fifth."
"Coward."
"Survivor."
He grins. "Fair distinction."
I set my mug down. "You really are taking this seriously."
"Of course, I am. This is..." He gestures helplessly. "This is everything."
The weight of those words sits between us.
"Trace—"
"I know. Too much." He sets his mug down. "I'm trying not to push. I know you need time."
