"They aren't tight," she said, as much of an explanation as she was willing to give. They were also much more comfortable than jeans, and somehow she felt like wearing denims would make the baby stay in longer, as crap a theory as that really was.
She bit her lip. "I don't want people hovering for hours," she said. "Especially my mother. But--all right, if you want, you can call her. Them. Hestia too, if she wants, and--I'll change and lay down on the couch. Fair enough compromise?" She wasn't going to be sequestered into bed like she was about to die. "Walking around helps, or it's supposed to. That's what that book said." She thought him working on the crib might help him focus on something else, she added, "I want you there. I just meant for the crib to be something for you to do so you're not pacing and wringing your hands."
Another contraction hit, and she went still, gritting her teeth. "See?" she managed. "They're not--close together yet."