Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“When was the start of your last menstrual period, Breezy?”
“Um…I guess like six or seven weeks ago,” I answer as honestly as I can. “I was on birth control but…yeah. I guess it wasn’t controlling much.”
“Funnily enough, I have a five-year-old wild child named Tilly for that very reason.” The nurse smiles at me. “And your periods…they’re pretty regular?”
I smile, laughing a little through my nerves. “Normally, yes.”
“And any other symptoms. Nausea, breast tenderness, fatigue?”
“Yes. All of the above, actually. Plus, puking and crying a lot.”
The nurse nods knowingly. “And have you had any spotting or bleeding?”
“No, none.”
“Okay, great. And as far as family medical history…anything genetically significant we should know about?”
I glance at Tad, my heart suddenly thundering. “Well…I had a niece with Osteogenesis Imperfecta Type III. But my brother also has another daughter without the mutation.”
She types in her computer, nodding gently. “Okay. Well, the doctor will be in shortly to see you, and then we’ll go from there.”
“Thanks,” I say.
She smiles, leaving the computer behind and exiting through the door she came in before pulling it closed behind her. I hear sounds—like she’s messing with the little plastic flag above my door and then silence.
I feel like maybe I should fill it with something, but I’m surprised when Tad does the talking for me.
“I know this is going to sound a little…scary…but I think you should move in with me.”
“What?” I gasp. “We don’t even have the doctor-confirmed results yet!”
He smirks. “Okay, then, after we do. If it says what we’re both fairly sure it’s gonna say, I think you should move in with me.” He winks. “I mean, I guess I am Farm Daddy after all.”
I laugh, but I also groan, because holy hell, my head is spinning. “Okay, if you were trying to distract me from the nerves of the appointment, I think it’s working, but you can cut it out now.”
His voice is soft and calm as he stands up from the chair and takes my hand in his. “I’m serious, Breeze,” he says, and his eyes lock with mine. “I know it’s quick, but the baby growing inside you right now really likes to keep its foot on the gas. There are going to be appointments and cravings and sickness and swollen ankles and hard days and good days and everything in between, and for as shocked as I was at first, I’m ready for it now. I want to be around. I want to be a part of it. I don’t want to miss something or leave you to fend for yourself. I want to handle it together, with you, every step of the way.” He smiles at me through eyes that are hesitant yet sure at the same time. “Please, I’m practically begging at this point, but that’s okay. Don’t go back to New York. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Stay in Red Bridge. Move in with me.”
“Well, jeez.” I scoff, throwing my hands up and sending his flying incidentally. “How am I supposed to say no to a speech like that?”
He smiles and reaches up to brush a piece of hair behind my ear. “You’re not.”
“And I wasn’t planning on going back to New York,” I admit the truth. “In a very strange way, Red Bridge has started to feel like home.”
“Well, how about you take that a step further and really make it home…with me?”
“Okay…” I don’t say the word yes out loud, but I’m definitely nodding as a strong knock on the door grabs both of our attention. It opens, and a blond woman in a white medical coat with bright green eyes and a symmetrically perfect smile walks in. She takes two pumps of soap from the dispenser next to the sink, washes her hands, glances over at the test the nurse left processing on the counter, and greets me all in one fell swoop.
“Hi, Beatrice. I’m Dr. Rickman. I don’t believe we’ve met before, but I can promise I’m, like, seventy-five percent fun and only twenty-five percent scary.”
Tad’s amused gaze is steady on me, but mine is like an active game of pinball, bouncing from one thing in the room to another at freakishly fast speeds.
“Twenty-five percent scary?” I ask.
She laughs. “Well, yeah. You’re going to have a baby. And no matter how you slice it, there are moments when that’s terrifying.”
“I’m pregnant?” Tears hit my eyes, and joy hits my heart in one fantastic burst.
She nods. “Congratulations.”
Oh boy. A baby, moving in with Tad, completely rearranging life as I’ve known it for thirty-nine years?
Yeah. I’d say things are about to be at least twenty-five percent scary from here on out.
39
Tad
Friday, March 26th
We’re officially diving headfirst into day two of living together.
Crazy, considering that eight days ago, the idea of moving in together—or having a baby—wasn’t on my radar. Or Breezy’s, for that matter.