A knock sounded on Grover’s front door and I sprang—as much as I could at twenty weeks pregnant—from the couch where I’d been impatiently waiting for Jeremy to arrive.

I greeted him with a kiss and a smile, melting when he kissed me back easily. The last three months hadn’t been without their moments, but it seemed like every day, Jeremy became lighter and happier.

Grover grunted from behind his newspaper. “Better shut the door. You’re giving the whole neighborhood a free show.”

His gruffness didn’t even fluster me, but Jeremy slid inside and closed the door behind him. “Hey, Dad.”

Grover folded his newspaper and set it on the coffee table beside him. “Today’s the day, huh?”

Jeremy folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “Yup.”

I nearly rolled my eyes. The alpha stoicness of these two got ridiculous, sometimes. I don’t care who Jeremy’s biological father was, he was definitely Grover’s son.

“You’re not planning on doing one of those pink and blue parties, are you?” Grover asked, grabbing his cold mug of coffee.

“A what?” Jeremy looked at me for clarification.

“You mean gender reveal party?”

Grover nodded.

Jeremy still looked confused, and I slid my arm around him, snuggling into his side. His arm came around me automatically, in a way it hadn’t just a couple months ago.

I shook my head. “Seems like a whole lot of fuss. I just want to know the baby is healthy.”

Grover’s eyes zeroed in on me from over his mug, and he lowered it. “You are going to find out the gender though, right?”

“Of course,” Jeremy said, at the same time I said, “I don’t know.”

I turned to look up at him. “You want to know?”

“You don’t?”

I shrugged. “I just want to know the baby is growing fine and doesn’t have any signs for any disorders.”

“I thought that’s what this sonogram was about,” Jeremy said. “To find out if the baby is a boy or a girl.”

“Yeah, it’s that,” I said. “But they also measure every gosh-darn thing they possibly can, and based on the measurements, they can tell if the baby is at risk for anything.”

“Like what?” Jeremy asked, his brows furrowing with concern.

“Down syndrome. Some organ things. I do my best not to think about it. I assume the baby is fine until told otherwise.”

“You two best get on the road before that boy works himself up into a state,” Grover said, shooing us out. “My grandbaby is going to be just fine. And you text me as soon as you know what he or she’s gonna be. And Alan, you remember to take some cheese sticks or jerky with you in case you get hungry.”

As the door shut behind us, Jeremy took my arm to help me down the three stairs. I didn’t really need his help, but it was nice to feel taken care of. His face was still pinched with concern as he opened the car door for me.

I hadn’t realized I hadn’t told him more about the sonogram. I tried to play back any times we’d talked about it, but all I could remember telling him was that we’d get to see the baby. Now I wished I hadn’t mentioned the health checks. His anxiety was getting to me.

As he slid into the driver’s seat, I winked and said, “This doesn’t count as a date, just so you know.”

As I hoped, the joke lightened the moment, and Jeremy smiled. He tossed a couple cheese and jerky sticks into my lap. “Dad didn’t think you took enough. He spoils the hell out of you, doesn’t he?”

“It’s just because I’m carrying his grandbaby.” I opened one of the cheese sticks. I’d already grabbed a couple on my way out of the house, but I felt hungry all the time these days, and barely able to fit anything in.

“I don’t know about that.” Jeremy pulled out of the driveway. “If I’m not careful, he’s going to revoke my adoption and pick you instead.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snapped, more intense than I meant to. I just got so riled up when Jeremy said anything negative about himself, even if it was something minor. I softened my voice and said, “He loves all of you, even if he never says those words. When you’re not around, he barely stops talking about you.”

Jeremy gave me a look. “Dad. Being a chatterbox?”

“Okay, when he talks, it’s almost always about you boys. He’s proud of you, you know.”

Jeremy cleared his throat and looked away. “So since this doesn’t count as a date, what would you like to do this week?”

I knew he was changing the subject because it made him comfortable when I complimented him, but I didn’t force the subject. He wasn’t arguing with me anymore. That was a step forward.

We didn’t talk much while we waited for the nurse to call us back to the sonogram room, and Jeremy’s knee kept bouncing like if he stopped, the world would stop spinning.

The doctor was a short woman, with short, gray, permed curls perched on her head. “Good morning, gentlemen! Are we ready to meet your baby?”

I reached for Jeremy’s hand and nodded.

“Wonderful.” She checked her notes. “You must be Alan.” She looked at me and I nodded. “And Jeremy.”

I squeezed Jeremy’s hand.

“I’m Dr. Marshall, and if you’ll just lay back and pull up you shirt, Alan, we’ll be running in no time at all.”

The machine hummed when she turned it on, and while it booted up, she gooped my stomach up with cold, clear gel, explaining every step of the way. I already pretty much knew the steps, but it had been a while since I’d been pregnant with Simon, and it was good for the refresher. I wasn’t certain if it was helpful for Jeremy or too much information.

“Now before we check the baby’s sex, tell me, do you want me to tell you or not?”

“Yes, please,” I said, looking at Jeremy. He flashed me a tight smile and squeezed my hand.

“Okay then. First things first.” She pressed the wand against my tight stomach and white and gray flashed across the screen. She adjusted the wand a few times, and then there was something. She shifted it a bit more, and there was our baby. “Looks like we’ve got a good position. Some of these little ones are stubborn boogers. They’ll twist just any which way to keep us from getting a look between their legs.” She clicked something and the picture froze on the screen. With her free hand, she circled two white dots with her mouse. “Congratulations, dads, you’re having a girl.”

I turned to see Jeremy’s expression, but he looked more worried than excited.

“Is she healthy?” Jeremy asked.

Yeah, I really wish I’d kept my mouth shut.

“So far so good, but let’s get the measurements. But we’ve got to get a picture of her face first. This is what we call a 4D image.”

She switched the screen to something kind of orangey, and moved the wand around again until a baby’s face filled the screen.

“That’s our little girl,” I whispered to Jeremy, feeling more emotional than I’d expected. “I didn’t get to see that with Simon.”

“She looks like you,” Jeremy said, his voice rough.

I laughed through my happy tears. “She looks like a baby. I’m not sure that’s a compliment to me.”

About forty-five minutes later, Dr. Marshall declared, “You’ve got a perfectly healthy baby girl, gentlemen.”

Only then, did Jeremy finally relax. I used the wad of paper towels Dr. Marshall had handed me to clean up the goop on my stomach.

Dr. Marshall rolled her chair over to the counter, where something thin was printing out. She tore it off its printer when it completed and rolled back to us. “And here’s the pictures of the pretty girl to prove it.”

“We need to text your dad,” I told Jeremy.

He pulled his phone out and snapped a picture of the sonogram photo, then the 4D face photo.

I watched over his shoulder. “Do you think he’ll be able to tell she’s a girl?”

Jeremy shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. “Nope. And it’ll drive him nuts until we get home. Thanks, Dr. Marshall.”

Jeremy barely noticed as I stopped at the nurse’s station to schedule my next appointment, he was so obsessed with the pictures.

“She’s so tiny,” he said as we made our way to the car. “And she does have your nose. She’s beautiful.”

“All babies have the same nose,” I grumbled, getting hungry. I’d left my snacks in the car. The cheese sticks might be bad, but the jerky should be fine. “And all babies look like aliens, so you better stop telling me she looks like me, because that means I look like an alien.

Jeremy turned me around as we reached the car and pressed me against it as he captured my lips hungrily with his.

“I’m so scared,” he whispered, resting his forehead on mine after breaking the kiss.

“I’m not,” I whispered back. “She’s healthy. She’s ours. And nothing in the world will change that.”