Monica laughs louder than anyone should rightfully laugh at a joke about Mobius strips. And as she laughs, she grips his arm. “Oh my God, you are so funny.”

Sam notices me staring at them blankly. “Abby, a Mobius strip is a surface with one continuous side that—”

“It’s okay,” I say quickly. “You don’t need to explain it to me.”

There’s an awkward silence. Monica’s eyes dart around and finally land on the two plates on the coffee table. She reaches for them. “Let me bring these to the kitchen.”

“Hey, no way,” Sam says as he brushes her aside. “You’re our guest, and also, you’re pregnant. You let me take care of that.”

He’s being a gentleman like I told him to. I wish he would cut it out.

He seems steadier as he brings the plates into the kitchen. Monica gets up off the couch to follow him, but I step in front of her. “Hey, Monica,” I say. “Did you know there’s a meeting tomorrow morning at eight?”

“Uh huh.” She nods. “It’s on the calendar. The Cuddles people, right?”

Damn, even Monica knew about the meeting. What’s wrong with me?

“That reminds me,” she says. “I’ll need to take off for a few hours next week to do that ultrasound and the blood tests. Is that okay?”

Sam drops the plates in the dishwasher and lifts his head. “Ultrasound?”

Monica arches an eyebrow. “Abby didn’t tell you? I’m having this screening ultrasound next week.”

He frowns. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all!” She clutches her chest. “I would tell you if there were. This is something everyone gets. But it’s a chance to see the baby. Do you want to come?”

“Uh…” Sam glances in my direction, then back at Monica. He seems like he’s looking at her abdomen, but he could also be looking at her boobs. Not that I would blame him, because they’re pretty spectacular right now. “Yeah, of course I would. That would be incredible.”

She brightens. “Hey, I recorded the heartbeat at my appointment last week. Do you want to hear it?”

He nods vigorously. “Yeah, definitely.”

Monica and Sam go back to the living room and sit together on the couch, while I take the loveseat. She gets out her phone and scrolls to the recording she took last week. Then she presses “Play.”

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

His eyes widen. “That’s the heartbeat?”

She nods.

I wouldn’t have expected it from Sam, because he’s not an emotional sort of guy, but his eyes start to get misty the same way mine and Monica’s did in the examining room. He listens to the whole thing, then he makes her play it a second time.

“That’s amazing,” he breathes.

She grins at him. “That’s our baby.”