I can do this, I insisted, even as I struggled to reach my feet.
Dawson crouched in front of me holding the second shoe. "We're going to be late if you spend twenty minutes doing this."
"I'm not that slow."
"Parker, you've been sitting here for ten minutes." He kissed my brow, something he did at least ten times a day.
I huffed but let him help. We were due at the station in thirty minutes for a live "family lifestyle" segment, a follow-up to my spectacularly unprofessional pregnancy announcement months ago. Isla had been planning it for weeks, calling it "heartwarming content that viewers are craving."
I called it "potential for public humiliation, round two."
"Remind me why we agreed to this?" I asked as Dawson drove us to the station.
"Because Isla asked very nicely. And because she stopped asking after you cried about it."
"I didn't cry."
"You teared up."
"That was the pregnancy hormones, not actual crying." I crossed my arms over my belly, which was getting harder to do. At thirty weeks, I was undeniably pregnant. The bump was pronounced enough that strangers felt entitled to comment on it in grocery stores.
"You're glowing," Dawson said, reaching over to squeeze my hand.
"I'm sweating. There's a difference."
But I squeezed back. Despite my complaints, I was actually excited about this. We'd been getting letters and gifts from viewers ever since the announcement, and Isla had promised this would be a "celebration of our growing family."
The studio had set up a cozy interview area with a couch and armchairs. Our interviewer, Michelle, was a lifestyle reporter known for her warm, grandmotherly energy. Behind her was a table piled with wrapped gifts.
"Oh no," I whispered to Dawson. "There are so many."
"We'll be fine." But I caught the concerned look he shot at the gift table.
"Parker! Dawson!" Michelle greeted us with a hug that was surprisingly strong for someone her size. "Look at you! Thirty weeks! You're absolutely glowing."
"See?" Dawson murmured.
"Still sweating," I muttered back.
We settled onto the couch. Well, I settled as much as someone with a belly the size of a basketball could. Dawson's hand immediately found its way to my knee.
"We're live in thirty seconds," the floor director called.
My heart started pounding. Live television while six and a half months pregnant and my brain was frazzled. What could possibly go wrong?
The interview started well enough. Michelle asked about how we met, how long we'd been together, and the now-famous on-air pregnancy announcement. I managed to answer coherently, and Dawson was his usual gruff-but-charming self.
Then we got to the gifts.
"Viewers have been so generous," Michelle said, gesturing to the table. "Let's open some, shall we?"
The first gift was sweet. It was a handmade baby blanket in soft yellow. I thanked the sender, running my fingers over the careful stitching.
The second was a wolf stuffed animal. A very large, very realistic one.
"How appropriate!" Michelle exclaimed. "Given that Parker was rescued by that heroic wolf during the hurricane. It was such an amazing story."
I felt Dawson tense beside me. The wolf that had saved me was currently sitting next to me on this couch, trying very hard to look like he wasn't the wolf in question.
