His smile faded. “You’re not telling me something, I can tell. Did the doctor’s office say something?” He blinked. “Is the baby okay?”
“Yes. I mean,” I said, looking down. “They didn’t really say anything except for how far along I might be. They want me to call back to schedule an appointment, but I wanted to talk to you first.”
He swallowed hard. “About what? Them asking for an ultrasound. Is that normal?”
“Yes.” I looked up, scanned his eyes, trying to see if I could read something more—guilt, innocence, fear. I only saw Josh, my Josh, the man who loved me. That hadn’t changed.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked.
Josh let me go to jog across the room, picking up the white sack he’d dropped. It was from JayWok. “You said on the phone last night that you were craving noodles.”
“For breakfast?”
He gestured to the leftover Alfredo on my plate. “Looks like I was right.”
I breathed out a laugh. “Touché.”
He shrugged. “I think it’s kind of romantic.”
I fought a smile. That was the first thing Josh had said to me after the crash, the response that had started it all. “But they’re not open for another hour.”
“I called in a favor.”
“They owed you a favor?”
“We’re good customers. What did you want to talk to me about?”
I glanced at the plate, and then back at him. On our wedding day, I had promised to trust him, just like he’d promised to love only me. He was happy about our baby. I couldn’t jump to conclusions.
“I just wanted to talk to you about your schedule, to see when a good time was to schedule the ultrasound.”
“I work nights, baby. You schedule one, and I’ll be there.”
I hugged him tight, pressing my cheek against his chest. “We’re going to be parents, Josh.”
He exhaled. “No, we’re going to be amazing parents. I was thinking that maybe … maybe we should look into buying a house.”
I leaned back. “We can’t afford a house.”
“If I sold the Barracuda, we would have most of the down payment for something small in the suburbs. We’d get a tax break. It’s doable.”
“How would you get to work?”
He shrugged. “Quinn.”
My nose wrinkled. “Quinn is going to drive to Haddonfield?”
Josh twisted his face, unhappy. “Haddonfield? I was thinking more like Devon or Blue Bell.”
I glared at him.
He held out his hands and let them slap to his thighs. “Okay, Cherry Hill.”
“You want to move to Jersey?” My voice rose an octave, and I rubbed my temple, feeling another headache coming on.
“Okay, don’t stress. We don’t have to talk about it right now. But if I find a nice house in a nice neighborhood … will you think about it?”
I sighed. “I’m already working fifty to sixty hours a week, Josh.”
“I know,” he said, unhappy.
“We don’t have enough saved up, not even if you sell your car, and the stress of only having one vehicle for a family of three …”
“Okay,” he said, gently holding my arms. “Deep breath. I’ll make a list and crunch numbers. If it doesn’t make sense, we’ll stay put.”
“I know you want all the best things for the baby. I do, too. But can we not change everything on day one?”
“Right. You’re right. Too soon. I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
I nodded. “Thank you.” I looked down at my cold plate of food, placed it in the microwave, and closed the door.
“Sorry there’s not more left.” He held up the sack with a small smile. “But you have noodles.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, reaching for the sack. I looked at him, unable to stop my mouth from forming the words. “So, Hope liked your Alfredo?”
He shrugged, pulling out the box of noodles from the sack. “She scarfed it down like a starving mule. It was kind of gross.”