Jake could accept most of the changes that were happening to his body throughout the pregnancy, but he wasn't sure about this one.

First, it was the weight gain; he had to get over the rapid dissolve of his hard-earned washboard abs and welcome the constant ebb of backache. Over time, Jake viewed his gargantuan belly with an endearing protectiveness, and rubbing it or resting his hand on it became an instinctual move.

He thought the inevitable stretchmarks—surprisingly only a few—would bother him, but he proudly took ownership of them. For the majority of his life, Jake sought self-worth in manipulating girls to hook up with him without expecting companionship, admiring the perfection of his body, and maintaining his raging party animal status. Now, approaching the last few weeks of his pregnancy and still no word from Junior, the only desire Jake had was to raise his baby to the best of his ability as a single father. He thought of his stretchmarks as battle scars, a testament to the months of pain and sacrifice he endured to bring this child into the world; he would gladly wear them with pride.

His favorite change? Whenever he felt the baby move inside him.

Oh, those were the best.

Jake was already an oddity as it is, waddling in public as some tall, attractive man with an off-kiltering belly. He had these moments, though, whenever he would go to the grocery store and drop whatever food product he was surveying when the baby would suddenly deliver a kick. Rather than immediately picking it up, Jake would pause, put his hand on his belly, and smile like an idiot. No one could ever completely understand how much his heart swelled whenever the baby alerted him that it was still very much alive and very much a part of him. Those were private moments only he and the baby could share, and no one could ever take that away from him.

But this most recent change felt different, so off that he wasn't sure if it warranted concern. He couldn't tell if it was the way he felt as if his belly was slinking downwards, so low that his legs straddled it when it sat down, or the insurmountable pressure on his hips that accompanied this change.

He stood in the front foyer of his parents' house, gawking at his ample midsection in the full-length mirror, desperately trying to place his confusion.

"You know, if you wanted a maternity photo shoot, all you had to do was ask," his mother, Angela, jested, and slung her purse over her shoulder. "Let's get to your appointment."

Jake didn't hear her and continued to study his body. Since he was too big to fit in the driver's seat, his mom began to drive him to his check-ups. Seeing his distractedness, she neared him a put a hand on the side of his bulging belly.

"What's wrong?"

"I dunno," he replied. "I feel… different."

"Should I be concerned?" Angela said, a look of alarm instantly flooding her face. "Are you experiencing cramps? Is the baby ok? Are you feeling nauseous? Should I call Dr. Hesse?"

"No, no," Jake reassured his mother. "This is going to sound odd, but I think my stomach… changed. I think it shifted downwards or something, and now my back pain is out the wazoo."

His mother took a step back and looked at Jake as if there was fine print written on him, her eyes boring into the never-ending landscape of his belly. She clicked her tongue twice and smiled wistfully at him. "The baby dropped. It's called lightening, sweetie. Totally normal."

"What does that mean?" Jake asked, somewhat flustered.

"It means the baby is trying to position itself in preparation for delivery," she said softly, her eyes welling up with tears. "It means we're almost there."

Her words had an immersing effect on him, realizing the reality of his temporary condition and the impending arrival so close within his reach that all he could do was envelop his mother in a tight embrace.

In the car, on the way to his father's practice for another routine check-up, Jake's mind was flooded with every task he needed to complete in preparation for Jordan's arrival: tidying up the nursery, installing the car seat, and washing baby clothes.

One particular job that he wanted to take care of was scanning both his and Junior's family medical records for any illnesses that might be passed down to their child. He easily obtained Dr. Hesse's and his wife's records, along with Junior's, and his mother offered her as well. Of all people, the only person who was reluctant was his father, Larry.

Every time Jake would ask for it, Larry would nod, his face giving a distant expression, and tell him that he would get it to him, eventually. His mother told Jake not to push his father, that they could complete a comprehensive medical history search without his dad's. Jake, however, was getting impatient.

"It's just that we're cutting it so close, Mom, and I want to get this done so I can focus on more important things until Jordan gets here," Jake protested.

"Your dad's pretty busy," she replied.

"But this really isn't asking a lot," he pressed.

Angela half-heartedly waved him off as they pulled into the parking lot. Jake, whose emotions were building up at an unprecedented rate, wasn't ready to drop the issue just yet.

"He of all people should be understanding as to why I want to do this. Does he not think that I'll properly analyze the documents? That this information is useless?"

"Jake," his mother began, but he interrupted her.

"Is he worried that there will be complications at the birth, and he's just too afraid to tell me? Is there a deadly genetic disorder on his side of the family? Is he not telling me because he's hiding something?" his voice escalated.

"Yes!" she practically shouted, and instantly the air in the car turned uncomfortably silent.

"Our marriage wasn't perfect, you are aware of this, Jake?" Angela said in an even tone.

He nodded, still gaping at his mother. "You always told me that you had a difficult time conceiving, but your pregnancy with me brought you all close again."

"That's true," she exhaled and bit her lip. "Look, Jake, your father and I were never quite sure when to tell you this, but I made some pretty careless mistakes when we had our trial separation. I spent a lot of time with my girlfriends, being foolish and self-centered when I thought that my marriage to your dad had dissolved. I think we were so tired, so defeated from trying to get pregnant that we lost ourselves a bit, and I was looking in all the wrong places to make up for that."

She paused to look at her son, but Jake's expression was impossibly hard to read.

"Jake, when we found out I was pregnant we realized there was no way that the baby—you—could be Larry's. He was too ashamed to do a fertility test, but I'm fairly confident that Larry experienced fertility issues, and that's why he threw himself into the creation of Expectane. But when you were born, Jake, oh man," she wiped the tears that were streaming down her face, "when he held you in his arms for the first time he knew he wanted to be your daddy even if, even if—"

A sob escaped her throat and she cast her eyes away from Jake, ashamed at how quickly she broke down. "He doesn't want to give you the medical documents because he doesn't share any genetic traits with your baby, and he didn't want to give you false information."

"But my real father," Jake said, barely above a whisper.

"He lives in SoCal, works in the music business, lives a pretty transient lifestyle. He knows about you, obviously, but was pretty detached from the get-go. I have everything you need to know about him –his contact info included—if you want to reach out to him. I completely understand if that's something you want—"

"I don't," he said curtly, and once again silence permeated in the car.

Jake silently rubbed his belly, almost in a trance. His mother didn't dare say a word.

Finally, after several minutes of this, he looked at the clock on the dashboard. "I should get going." He made one great shift get his body out of the car—belly first—before his mother grabbed his arm.

"Jake," she begged, "please don't tell Larry we had this conversation. It's—it would break his heart."

He glanced at her briefly and nodded, face sill completely blank, before turning his back to slowly lumber up the front steps.

The check-up was brief, but Jake stopped paying attention the moment he saw Larry. His awareness instantly became clouded, and all he could do was observe Larry's mannerisms in a foggy trance. The way he hummed a buoyant tune throughout the ultrasound and made several approving noises, gave him countless reassuring smiles as he continued to slide the weight scale up several notches, or listened attentively to the baby's heartbeat and made an expression as if it was the most precious sound he ever heard.

It made Jake's heart ache.

"Did you hear what I said, son?"

Jake snapped back to reality. He turned his attention to Larry.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said that if you don't go into labor by next week, then we should probably designate a day for you to come in for a C-section. It's just nice using naturally-induced labor as an indicator to know when the baby's ready to come out, even though it looks like space is getting limited in there."

"I gained four pounds since last week. I could probably be an amateur sumo wrestler," Jake replied, unamused.

"Well," Larry said cheerfully, "proportionally speaking, your measurements match a woman carrying triplets full term. The only thing I'm concerned with is how many times you've visited Taco Bell in the past week."

Jake snorted at Larry's comment. The older man gave Jake's belly an affectionate rub as he continued to talk.

"You know, if you choose a date, I think it would be pretty nifty scheduling the C-section on Father's Day. It would be an incredible way to celebrate your first Father's Day, and you wouldn't have to worry about buying me a gift for my first holiday as a grandpa."

He smiled brilliantly at his patient, and just like that tears escaped Jake's eyes.

"Jake, is everything alright?"

He nodded, trying to gain control over his emotions.

"I just want to thank you, for taking care of me. For taking care of us," he said carefully, pronouncing each word with a purpose.

"It's nothing, son, really," his father replied earnestly, and moved to go wash his hands across the room but Jake quickly grabbed his arm.

"I know that taking on this pregnancy has been a great source of stress for you, amidst all of the other responsibilities going on in your life, but you have never, ever left me alone to struggle. You have made my burdens your own and I can't find enough words to explain how grateful I am," Jake continued, staring straight into Larry's eyes.

"Jake, this is a lot," he said softly.

"I know that you have stepped in too many times to count to provide unconditional love, and you selflessly sacrificed your wellbeing for my happiness," he took Larry's hand and pressed it over his stomach. "Ever since the beginning. You are a shining example of what it means to be a father and I can only hope that I will be the same for my own child."

Larry's mouth opened, but no words came out. Just then his eyes filled with tears, and they slowly streamed down his face.

"It was too easy to love you," he choked, and knelt down to give his son a big hug to capture that moment of knowing.

After several minutes when both of them regained their composure and wiped their eyes, Larry said with a chuckle, "Well, is there anything else I can do for you today?"

"I think," Jake smiled lightly, "that I'm ready to find out if I'm giving you a grandson or granddaughter, Dad."

To this, Larry picked up the ultrasound wand with an even more profound dutifulness, and studied the screen with unbounded excitement.