We settle at a small table in the shade of an oversized yellow umbrella, the kind that looks like it belongs in a travel ad. Heidi kicks off her sandals and tucks one leg under the other, then tears into the pastry bag to hand me a danish.
“This has raspberry filling and made me drool on the spot,” she says, and I try to brush off the memory of Reid telling me when our baby was the size of a raspberry. “Just like my taste in men and women last summer.”
“Your taste in themeverysummer,” I correct, unwrapping the danish.
“Rude! Accurate and rude.”
I take a bite and immediately groan. It’s flaky and still warm. The raspberry preserve is sticky and sweet, and I probably moan a little louder than necessary because Heidi fans herself.
“Jesus Christ, Park, buy it dinner first.”
“I’m pregnant,” I mutter through the pastry.
She barks a laugh, but then her whole body freezes.
“Wait, what?”
I swallow. “I said, I’m pregnant.”
She stares at me, and I stare back. A tiny crumb falls off her bottom lip.
And then she frowns, leaning forward on a stage-whisper. “Shut thefuckup!”
“Heidi—”
“No. No, no, no, you don’t get to drop a life-altering bombshell between a sex joke and a pastry. Start over.” She slaps the table lightly. “How far along? Are you okay? Do I need to order more pastries to process this?”
I huff a quiet laugh, suddenly overwhelmed by the warmth in her voice. “Twelve weeks.”
“Twelveweeks?!You’ve known for that long?”
“Notthatlong. I found out around five. But yeah, I’ve known. I’ve just… been trying to figure it out.”
“Park.” Her voice softens instantly, the sunshine still there but tempered now. “Are you okay?”
I consider her question. “Yeah, I think so. Some days I am, and some days, it still knocks the air outta me. But it’s getting less… terrifying.”
Her eyes search my face, then narrow slightly. “Wait. Who’s the…?”
I say nothing and look down, taking a long sip of iced coffee.
Heidi’s jaw drops. “Oh mygod. Is it Reid Hutchi—”
“Shhh!” I hiss, looking around even though no one is close enough to hear. “Jesus.”
“Oh my god, I knew it,” she repeats, but now it’s less shock and more glee. “Oh mygod. That man is so hot, I won’t be surprised if your baby has abs already. And you two were—? While he was still—?”
“No,” I say quickly. “No, not during his surgery or when I was in charge of his case. We barely spoke back then; we were just… snarky. He was grumpy, I was stressed, and then he got transferred to you for rehab. We didn’t get close until the fundraiser stuff.”
She nods, still holding the danish like it’s a microphone. “Okay. Okay, good. Because I was gonna say—lovechaos, but not if it means you lose your medical license.”
“Which is why I haven’t told anyone else. Including Moreno.”
Heidi goes still again. “You haven’t told Moreno… anything?”
I shake my head. “Not even that I’m pregnant.”
“Carina.”
