Page 17
Shaking my head, I look towards the darkening sky. The clouds aren’t a thick blanket over us, which means I catch a glimpse of the red and orange of the setting sun. “Nope. I didn’t want to know.”
“Why?” He tugs me to a stop, forcing me to face him.
“The surprise, partially,” I admit, nibbling my lip. “And it didn’t feel right, either. Knowing without you. It felt like something I needed to not know until I knew what you wanted to do. It also meant I couldn’t get attached if something happened. I’d hate to know I was having a little girl, and she was taken from me before I could know her. If Parasite were to just…go away, then it didn’t feel as…personal.”
Max nods in understanding. “Not knowing is going to kill me. How the fuck are we supposed to prepare?”
“Lots of gender neutral,” I reply, grinning. “I never thought you’d be into the preparing stage. You know, I’m also surprised you never looked in the back seat of my truck.”
“I’m not a snooper,” he deadpans. “Why?”
“Because I have so much baby stuff shoved under the seats and on the floor in bags,” I tell him. “If I saw something on sale, I bought it. No questions asked. Also, preparing seemed dumb since I have siblings with loads of baby stuff.”
Max stares at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “I’ll get you whatever you want.”
“And put it where?” I ask, though my heart flutters with happiness.
His eyes shine with the answer, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, his arm goes around my waist, and he guides me to the next stall, leaving my question hanging in the air.
9
MAX
How the hell do I make this work?
That thought repeats through my head as I guide Winnie to the maze. I pay the entry fee without thinking about it, and we begin the trek to find the other side. Kids run past without a care in the world, so I pull Winnie into my side protectively, stare catching her bump.
Two months, and she gives birth. That’s eight weeks. Sixty days. Give or take, but that means by the time we get snow, and the farm is reshaped for winter, I’ll be a father.
It’s never felt more real than it has right now. And we aren’t even married yet.
The knowledge that, by Monday, we’ll have the license and be officially married almost takes my breath away. I prefer having a plan, and she’s stormed into my life and completely disrupted any chance of that.
What can I prepare for in two months? Do I bite the bullet and move into the bungalow on the perfect family street? Or do I get Winnie through the birth and let her go home to her family?
“You don’t have to be so serious about the maze, you know,” Winnie teases, bumping her shoulder against mine.
I clear my throat and glance down at her. All the joy I felt getting here feels like a distant memory now that the reality of this has slammed into me. But I don’t want her to know. These thoughts are my own. My own worries and fears.
“I’m not,” I reply. “Anyway, I know the way out.”
“No fun,” she pouts. “Don’t lead us out. Just go with the flow.”
My belly tightens, and a sort of wariness clouds my thoughts as I consider that. Go with the flow. I’ve heard the same things for years; you’re a grump, Max, or lighten up, Max. I’m not a go with the flow kind of guy, and that probably means I’m uptight. I’ve been called a prick more than once because I won’t let up on making sure things are right, and that has definitely contributed to most of my attitude surrounding the world.
With Winnie, there’s a part of me that wants to let go. To see the world the way she does.
But I feel resistance tightening in my chest just at the thought.
“Fine,” I mutter, leading her down a different lane in the maze. “Go with the flow.”
The weight of her stare prickles at my cheek. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” she murmurs, tugging on my hand. “You’ve gone quiet. Like you’re rethinking things.”
“I’m not rethinking anything,” I reply, pulling her to a stop despite my stomach turning. Isn’t that exactly what I was doing? Wondering if there isn’t a better way to do this? I scrub my free hand down my face. “Not rethinking you or this baby, anyway.”
