I reach over, touching my fingers to her cheek. “Nothing’s going to change,” I disagree. “Life’s just going to get better and it’s going to be amazing.”
She smiles at me, her eyes trusting. “I hope you’re right.”
I grin back. “I know I am.”
Thea
9 Weeks Pregnant
I fix the bows on the gift bags—one for Xander’s parents, and one for my mom—and step back, appraising my handiwork.
“You did good,” Xander comments, stepping up behind me and winding his hands around my waist.
I lean against him, tilting my head back so I can look at him. “You think so?”
He nods, pressing his lips against my neck. “They’re going to be shocked, though, that’s for sure.”
I came up with the idea to put baby things in a bag to give them. I figured it was cuter than just blurting it out, and it wasn’t too crazy.
“Are we taking Prue with us?” I ask, untangling myself from his arms and picking up the bags.
“Yeah, I think we should. It’ll be a long day for her if we don’t, and my parents don’t mind.”
Everybody is meeting at Xander’s parent’s house for the holiday. We thought about doing it here, but since we only moved in a few weeks ago, we chose not to.
“Come on, Prue,” Xander calls out and then whistles.
Prue comes running down the stairs, her collar jingling.
She skids around the corner, her paws sliding on the hardwood. She runs straight toward us, then around, and stops outside the garage door.
“How does she already know?” I whisper-hiss.
Xander chuckles, pressing his hand to my back to urge me forward. “Because she’s a dog. They know everything.”
I move the bags to one hand and open the garage door.
I set the bags on the backseat and climb into the truck. I’m beginning to see what Xander means about needing a family car, even if the idea disgusts me. I love my little car, and he loves his truck, so getting another vehicle seems like too much. Who needs three cars? But the idea of climbing in and out of his truck when I’m hugely pregnant or having to squat to get into my small car, is not appealing in the slightest.
I climb in the passenger seat and buckle my seatbelt. Xander lifts Prue into the truck and she pokes her head in between the seats, licking my arm.
“Hey, girl.” I laugh, petting her head.
Xander climbs into the truck and looks over at me. “Are you ready?” he asks, tilting his head.
I know he’s asking me if I’m ready to tell them—not if I’m ready to go.
I nod, and smile, but I’m sure he can still see the tension in my eyes. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
It’s a lie, though.
I’m so not ready.
I still haven’t wrapped my head around this whole thing and now we have to tell people. Up until now it’s been something fairly easy to dismiss from my mind—to pretend it’s not real—but now there will be no denying this.
Ready or not, here comes baby.
We pull up to Xander’s parents’ house and find the driveway already filled with vehicles.