The Nest Before Christmas (The Nest #5)

Chapter 1

one

Jade

Christmas carols play softly in the waiting room—almost as if the doctor’s office thinks it will fill the other women and me with holiday cheer.

Pretty hard to accomplish when my to-do list is a mile long, but this is what I wanted, right?

The happily-ever-after with the man I love and the family we’re building.

I feel like the Grinch with how stressed and annoyed I am, when so many people are going without, especially this time of year.

The door to the hallway that leads to the exam rooms opens, and all of us waiting women glance up, hope filling us that we’re next to be called. Everyone wants to get their appointment over with so they can move on with their tasks for the day.

Thankfully, the nurse calls my name. Guess I’m the lucky one. If I weren’t five months pregnant, I’d hop up and run over to her, afraid she’d called the wrong person.

But this is what happens at the OB-GYN office—babies need to be delivered, so we wait because we want the doctor there at the hospital when our little bundles are born too.

“Hello, Jade.” Even the nurse has Christmas spirit—her scrubs are covered in tiny Santas. “How are you today?”

My hand runs over my stomach as I shift my purse higher on my shoulder. “Finally warming up from outside.”

She glances over her shoulder as she leads me to the dreaded scale at the end of the hall. “Is it still coming down out there?”

“It’s tapering off now, but I heard we’re due for another few inches before it stops.”

“Good for the kids, I suppose. A white Christmas, snowmen, snow forts.” She stands beside the scale, waiting. “It’s all ready when you are.”

I set my purse and coat on the table. I’d love to bend down and unlace these boots. That’d knock off five pounds, maybe seven. “I’m never quite ready to step on a scale.”

She chuckles, clearly used to the joke made by almost every woman who comes through this office.

I watch the number climb higher, reminding myself that this is a good thing. I’m making a home for our baby. Still, when I see the final number, my stomach drops. It’s such a weird feeling to have no control over all the changes happening to my body.

“Yeah, those Christmas cookies are yummy,” I mutter. “And packed with calories, apparently.”

She laughs again. “Let’s get you to the exam room. The doctor is just returning from a delivery and will be here in about five minutes.”

She escorts me into one of the rooms, checks my vitals, and tells me to wait.

I scroll through my texts from Henry where he apologizes again and again for being delayed at an away game and for missing today.

He thanks me for waiting to find out the sex of our baby.

What else would I do? Where would I be without him?

This is our life. This is the unpredictability of him working in the NHL.

One storm can change every player’s plans.

I send back a heart emoji, tell him I love him, and that we’ll celebrate together as soon as he gets home.

A knock sounds on the door and my doctor walks in. She glances at the empty guest chair and frowns. “No Henry? I suspected, since I heard the Falcons away game was postponed.”

I give her a small smile. “Yeah. Unfortunately, the game was delayed, so they’re playing tonight. Do you think you can determine the sex of the baby today and write it on a piece of paper and put it in an envelope so we can open it together when he gets home?”

“Of course.” She pats my knee. “You’re not the first I’ve done that for, and you won’t be the last. I know how excited you both are to find out.”

“Turns out I’m a planner when it comes to things like this, which is odd, because I would’ve thought I’d want it to be a surprise.”

As she washes her hands at the sink, she looks at me over her shoulder. “I was the same. As soon as I could find out, I did.” She grabs the paper towels and dries her hands. “Any plans for Christmas?”

“We rented a big cabin with our friends. We’re going for a long weekend, right before the holidays.”

“A little getaway before the chaos, huh?”

I laugh. “It’s made my Christmas list ten times longer, unfortunately. Now I have to pack and have everything set for when we return.”

She grins. “It’s good to get away. This is actually my last day before Christmas. I’ll be completely off, no on-call or anything. My husband demanded we go on a vacation. We’re going to be away for the entire holiday.”

My eyes widen because, as long as Henry’s with the Falcons or another team in the league, that’s not an option for us. “That’s amazing. Where are you going?”

“I wish I could say somewhere without snow, but he loves skiing, so we’re heading to the mountains. I’ll be in the hot tub or in front of the fire with a book.”

“Sounds nice.” My voice is a little wistful. As fun as being at the cabin with our friends will be, it won’t be as relaxing as her getaway sounds.

“Don’t sound too jealous. My entire family will be with us. My parents, his parents, our siblings, and all the kids. It’ll be chaotic.”

“Built-in babysitters.” I shrug.

She grins. “Yup.” She rolls her stool over. “But back to you. How are you feeling? Any questions or concerns?”

“Everything’s been good.” And it has, which makes me think I could do this again soon. I’ve been blessed with a great pregnancy so far.

She dims the lights, squeezes the jelly onto my stomach, and starts the ultrasound.

I’m not sure if it’s the darkness, the feel of the cool jelly, or the wand running around my stomach, but I blink away tears.

It’s silly to be sad, but I really wanted Henry here.

He would be if he could, and I remind myself it hurts him not to be here just as much as it does me, so I need to be strong right now.

I force myself not to look at the screen. I want us to see the pictures together, to read the girl or boy on the paper at the same time.

The room fills with the sound of a strong, steady heartbeat and the tears I was forcing back spill down the sides of my face to the paper under me. Hearing the life I’m growing inside me never gets old.

“You’re doing a great job,” she says warmly. “Everything looks good.”

Relief floods me. Not that I thought anything was wrong, but the confirmation is reassuring.

“I’ll take these pictures, write down the gender, and seal it in an envelope. Anything else before I do that?”

“I probably should’ve asked, but travel is okay, right?”

The doctor finishes with the ultrasound machine and turns on the lights. “How far are you guys going?”

“Just up north.”

She leans against the cabinet, crossing her arms, her white coat straining at the sleeves. “That’s fine. Stop if you need to stand and walk around for a bit. If you have any problems, my colleague, Dr. Romano is on-call.”

“Thank you.”

She steps out of the exam room while I right myself, then she returns a few minutes later with the envelope. “All set for you two to open together. And please tell Henry and the crew that we’re wishing the Falcons luck. We hope they can bring home the Cup again this year.”

I smile. “He’s hoping for the same.”

“Have fun on your trip.”

“You too. That vacation sounds perfect.”

“It’ll be chaos, but good chaos. Enjoy the cabin. It would be any fan’s dream to run into you all up there. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” I say.

She leaves, and I stare at the envelope in my hands. It’s right here. I could know right now if my baby is a boy or a girl. Instead, I press a palm to my stomach. “We’ll wait for Daddy.”

I slide off the table, tuck the envelope into my purse, and head to the waiting room, which has thinned out, making it easy to spot Eloise sitting in the corner of the room.

When she sees me, she stands and laughs. “What are the odds?”

“What are you doing here?”

She gives me the look, and I nod, understanding that it’s not for the same blessed reason I’m here.

“Do you want me to be here with you?” I squeeze her hand, sensing today is hard for her, even more so since Conor can’t be with her.

“No, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be alone.” I have no idea what she’s here for exactly, but I’ll be the friend who stands at her side and holds her hand if she lets me.

Tears glisten in her eyes, breaking my heart. “I know,” she says softly. “But I’m fine. You probably have a million things to do. Go. I’ll catch up with you later.”

I hesitate. Maybe she wants to do this alone. Finally, I hug her tightly. “Okay. But call me if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

I step out of the doctor’s office into the cold air, then turn right back around. We might not be biologically related, but we’re family.