I went through all of the information that I’d learned since finding out she was carrying my baby. I’d spent every singlenight since staring at my phone, trying to memorize everything about pregnancy. The glucose test was to make sure that she didn’t have gestational diabetes. But wasn’t it later in pregnancy? I knew that they added two weeks before implantation, so she should only be about sixteen weeks. Maybe closer to seventeen.
Was I going to ask her any of that? Absolutely not. The last thing she needed was for me to be mansplaining how her own pregnancy worked.
“Was it the one hour or the three hour?” I asked.
“Since when do you know anything about pregnancy and glucose tests?”
“Since the beginning. I’ve been doing some reading.” Then she pulled away, eyes wide. “I’m doing the bare minimum a father should do,” I reminded her. “I know I didn’t give you a good first impression, which is why I’m here trying to make it better.”
“You are.” She wiped at her eyes. “It’s still more than I’m used to, though.”
“Raise your expectations, Grace.”
“I will once I figure out if I have gestational diabetes or not.” She let out a huff of laughter that didn’t sound very humorous. “And to answer your question, it was just the one hour. But the way the receptionist made it sound, it just ... terrified me. I didn’t know for sixteen weeks. There were so many things I could have messed up.”
“Gestational diabetes is mostly genetic, just like PCOS is. I highly doubt you did anything to cause this.”
She blinked at me. “How much research did you do?”
“I like to be prepared.”
For a second, all she could do was stare at me. “Well, I can’t say it’s a bad thing because you’re saying exactly what I need to hear.”
“So, what’s the next step?”
“The three-hour test. I go tomorrow morning.” She let out a sigh that turned into a groan. “That means the shop will once again be closed, which will raise questions. I can’t eat breakfast, and I have to make an hour-long drive to Knoxville where I’ll drink a disgustingly sweet drink and then sit for three hours. It’s going to besofun.”
I knew what I was going to do before she was finished talking. Wren was going to be pissed. Mostly because I couldn’t work tomorrow.
“I’ll take you.”
“Why would you do that? Don’t you have work?”
“Yeah, but my boss is also your friend, so I might as well take advantage of that a little, don’t you think?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“I could just say it’s something else involving you. That I’m working on your house or something.”
She bit her lip and I hoped that meant she was considering it. “It’s gonna be so boring, and we’re not even gonna get the answers tomorrow.”
“I’ll pack fun things to do.”
“But—”
“Grace, if you can look me in the eye and say that you would prefer to do this alone, I’ll drop it.” Something told me that she would not be able to do that. I had a feeling I knew exactly the kind of person she was, and with that knowledge, I needed to make sure that I could help her.
“I’d prefer to go alone,” she said as her eyes met mine. Her voice betrayed her. It wasn’t steady like it usually was, and each word sounded like it hurt coming out.
“I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow.”
Grace let out a long sigh. “Can’t you at least try to believe me?”
“Put on a better act next time. Sorry, but you’re not meant to be an actress.”
Her cheeks were pink. “That’s rude.”
“I call it like I see it. So, does eight work?”