"Even with the pregnancy brain?" Michelle teased.
"Especially with the pregnancy brain," Dawson said, and the way he looked at me made my eyes water.
"Are you crying?" Michelle asked gently.
"No." A tear rolled down my cheek. "Maybe. I don't know why. We were talking about paint colors and now I'm crying."
"Hormones," Michelle and Dawson said in unison. Dawson offered me a tissue and I dabbed my cheek.
The interview wrapped up with me crying-not-crying over a particularly ugly hand-knitted blanket that someone's grandmother had made. It was orange and purple and possibly meant for Halloween, but the thought behind it was so sweet I couldn't help the tears.
"That was beautiful," Michelle said as we signed off. "Thank you both so much."
"Thank you for being so patient with my brain," I told her as I wiped my eyes.
"Pregnancy brain is real and valid," she assured me. "And for the record, you two are adorable."
In the car afterward, I finally let myself laugh. "I said 'the one with the sounds.' Names have sounds, Parker. All of them have sounds."
"You were nervous," Dawson replied, but he was grinning and he placed a hand on my thigh.
"And the wolf gifts. Oh my god, the wolf gifts."
"'Little Wolf Cub,'" he quoted. "If they only knew."
"We're never doing live television again."
"You said that after the weather segment announcement."
"I mean it this time." I looked down at the pile of gifts in the backseat, including the disturbingly realistic wolf stuffed animal. "Our kid is going to have so many wolf-themed things. It's going to be hilarious when they actually shift for the first time as a teen."
"Ironic, at least."
"Do you think they'll like the wolf mobile?"
"I think they'll probably try to swat it."
We shared a glance and I laughed again. Dawson reached over to lace his fingers through mine. Despite the weird gifts and my pregnancy brain and crying over ugly blankets on live television, it had been enjoyable.
Our baby who would grow up surrounded by wolf-themed everything without anyone knowing the real reason why.
"We still need to decide on a name," Dawson said.
"The one with the sounds?"
"Very helpful, Parker."
"I try."
But we were both smiling, and my free hand rested on my belly where our cub—our little wolf cub—was currently using my ribs as a punching bag.
Life was strange and wonderful and occasionally mortifying. And I wouldn't change a thing.
FIFTEEN
DAWSON
The contractions started just after midnight.
