Page 100 of Pregnant in Plaid

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"How would you know? Are you dying?"

"No, but?—"

"Then shut up about what great shape I'm in."

I make a mental note: during labor, all reassurances are apparently the enemy.

A nurse comes in—Brenda, according to her name tag—and checks the monitors. "Everything's looking good. Baby's heart rate is strong."

"How much longer?" Patrice asks, and there's a note of desperation in her voice that breaks my heart.

"Hard to say. First babies can take their time."

"That's not helpful."

Brenda smiles sympathetically. "I know. But you're doing great."

Patrice shoots me a look that clearly says See?

"I didn't say anything," I protest.

"You were thinking it."

She's not wrong.

After Brenda leaves, another contraction hits, and Patrice's grip on my hand becomes actively painful. I count through it—ninety seconds this time—and whenit passes, she looks at me with tears streaming down her face.

"I can't do this for hours more," she whispers. "I just can't."

"Yes, you can." I wipe her tears with my free hand. "You're the strongest person I know."

"I'm really not."

"You flew across the country pregnant. You told me off in front of our friends. You're about to have a baby seven weeks early and you're still fighting. You're a warrior, Patrice."

"I'm a sweaty mess who hasn't showered in twelve hours."

"You're beautiful."

"You're delusional."

"Maybe. But I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

She squeezes my hand—gently this time. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Around hour three, Gage pokes his head in with coffee and what looks like a sandwich wrapped in plastic.

"Thought you might need sustenance," he says, keeping his voice low. "Vending Machine Special. Don't ask what's in it."

"You're a lifesaver." I take the coffee gratefully. "How's Tessa holding up?"

"Worried. Pacing. You know, the usual." He glancesat Patrice, who's dozed off between contractions. "How's she doing?"

"Slow progress. Dr. Martinez says it's normal, but—" I run a hand through my hair. "It's hard watching her hurt and not being able to do anything."

"You're here. That's something."

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