My Perfect Fiancé

Table of contents :
Chapter 1: Bailey
Chapter 2: Noah
Chapter 3: Bailey
Chapter 4: Noah
Chapter 5: Bailey
Chapter 6: Noah
Chapter 7: Bailey
Chapter 8: Noah
Chapter 9: Bailey
Chapter 10: Noah
Chapter 11: Bailey
Chapter 12: Noah
Chapter 13: Bailey
Chapter 14: Noah
Chapter 15: Bailey
Chapter 16: Noah
Chapter 17: Bailey
Chapter 18: Noah
Chapter 19: Bailey
Chapter 20: Noah
Chapter 21: Bailey
Chapter 22: Noah
Chapter 23: Bailey
Chapter 24: Noah
Chapter 25: Bailey
Chapter 26: Noah
Chapter 27: Bailey
Chapter 28: Noah
Chapter 29: Bailey
Chapter 30: Noah
Chapter 31: Bailey
Chapter 32: Noah
Chapter 33: Bailey
Chapter 34: Noah
Chapter 35: Bailey
Chapter 36: Noah
Chapter 37: Bailey
Chapter 38: Noah
Chapter 39: Bailey
Chapter 40: Noah
Chapter 41: Bailey
Chapter 42: Noah
Chapter 43: Bailey
Chapter 44: Noah
Chapter 45: Bailey
Chapter 46: Noah
Chapter 47: Bailey
Chapter 48: Noah
Chapter 49: Bailey
Epilogue: Noah

Citation preview

My Perfect Fiancé   a novel by Annabelle Costa      



  My Perfect Fiancé © 2019 by Annabelle Costa. All rights reserved. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents and places are the products of the authors’ imagination, and are not to be construed as real. None of the characters in the book is based on an actual person. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and unintentional.



Table of Contents   Chapter 1: Bailey Chapter 2: Noah Chapter 3: Bailey Chapter 4: Noah Chapter 5: Bailey Chapter 6: Noah Chapter 7: Bailey Chapter 8: Noah Chapter 9: Bailey Chapter 10: Noah Chapter 11: Bailey Chapter 12: Noah Chapter 13: Bailey Chapter 14: Noah Chapter 15: Bailey Chapter 16: Noah Chapter 17: Bailey Chapter 18: Noah Chapter 19: Bailey Chapter 20: Noah Chapter 21: Bailey Chapter 22: Noah Chapter 23: Bailey Chapter 24: Noah Chapter 25: Bailey Chapter 26: Noah Chapter 27: Bailey Chapter 28: Noah

Chapter 29: Bailey Chapter 30: Noah Chapter 31: Bailey Chapter 32: Noah Chapter 33: Bailey Chapter 34: Noah Chapter 35: Bailey Chapter 36: Noah Chapter 37: Bailey Chapter 38: Noah Chapter 39: Bailey Chapter 40: Noah Chapter 41: Bailey Chapter 42: Noah Chapter 43: Bailey Chapter 44: Noah Chapter 45: Bailey Chapter 46: Noah Chapter 47: Bailey Chapter 48: Noah Chapter 49: Bailey Epilogue: Noah

Chapter 1: Bailey   Tonight we had dinner reservations at La Petite Maison, a small and romantic French restaurant with a month-long waiting list to get a table. I browsed the online menu last night, and had all but decided to get a cheese plate followed by the coq au vin. My boyfriend Noah was planning to get the steak—ranked in a recent Times article as the best in New York City. We had both been looking forward to this dinner for ages. Instead, we are eating dinner at McDonald’s. There is absolutely nothing romantic or French about this meal. Well, except maybe for the French fries. “I’m going to kill him,” I say to Noah, as I stuff a handful of fries into my mouth. I’m not even hungry, but I’m Angry Eating now. I just Angry Ate a Big Mac, and now I’m Angry Eating a large French fries. I’m glad they got rid of Super Sizing, or else I’d be Angry Eating myself up a dress size. Noah takes a bite of his own chicken sandwich and chews thoughtfully. He has got to be furious too, but he’s been decidedly good-natured about the fact that my ex-husband, who was supposed to pick up my daughter Lily an hour ago, suddenly canceled on us until tomorrow morning because “something came up.” Noah was looking forward to this meal as much as I was, but he’s not stuffing fries into his mouth and planning to definitely get the hot fudge sundae. “We’ll go another time,” he says. His blue eyes meet mine, which makes my heart flutter. After all this time, he still does it to me. I’ve known him fifteen years and one look from him is all it takes. “It’s okay.” I fold my arms across my chest, pouting. I’m the most upset person here. Lily was upset at first when we told her Daddy wasn’t coming like she thought, but as soon as Noah said the words “McDonald’s Play Area,” she magically got over it. “I was just really looking forward to it,” I mumble. And I stuff ten more fries in my mouth at once. Angry Eating is the worst. Noah pries my fingers away from my mouth, which isn’t easy. He takes my hand in his warm, larger one and gives it a squeeze. Back when we were in college, we used to play footsie under the table at restaurants, but there’s

no point in that anymore. “I’ll get another reservation. Don’t worry. La Petite Maison isn’t closing any time soon.” His hand in mine makes my whole body tingle, and I feel a flush filling my cheeks. After nearly a year of living with this man, I would have assumed some of that excitement would die down. But it never does. And all I wanted was to be alone with him tonight. And eat French food that isn’t of the fry variety. “Noah!” Lily is hurling herself across the play area, her eyes wide with excitement. There’s nothing she loves more than the McDonald’s play area. Well, it’s possible she loves me more than the play area, but only very slightly. “Noah! Lookit what I found!” My seven-year-old daughter comes to an abrupt halt in front of our table, slipping slightly in her pink socks. Before I know what is happening, Lily has released a living organism onto our tray. It’s got six legs and it’s crawling toward my fries. “Lily!” I shriek as I jump up from the table. “You just put a bug on the table!” “It’s a beetle.” Lily looks at Noah for confirmation, and he nods. “I found it on the slide.” “And then you brought it here.” Noah grins up at me—I’m still cowering two feet away from the table. “Very nice.” “It is not nice.” I hug my chest as I stare at the insect. The only good thing I can say is it will save me about three hundred calories, since there’s no way I’m touching those fries now. “Lily, what did we say about bugs at the table?” She looks at me blankly while Noah laughs into his hand. About six months ago, after Noah took us camping, Lily became obsessed with bugs. Whenever she spots one, she captures it and identifies it. And sadly, there’s no shortage of bugs in New York City. She told me recently that her new career goal is to become a bug scientist. Or entomologist, as Noah corrected her. I can’t decide whether to be grateful to Noah for encouraging Lily in her new hobby or to be furious with him for… well, encouraging her in this new hobby. No, I’m grateful. He’s great with her, really. It’s my greatest regret that Noah isn’t her father. But you can’t change the past.

“Let’s capture it in a cup,” Noah says, as he sucks down the last of his soda to empty the container. “Then when we get home, we’ll put it in your bug catcher. Okay, Lil?” “Yeah!” She is really excited about this beetle. Noah scoops up the beetle with his bare hand and deposits it in the cup. I feel like even with the lid in place, there’s a very real chance that the bug will get free in his Toyota, but if he’s willing to take that risk, I’m not going to say anything. Anyway, Noah isn’t terrified of bugs like I am. This summer there was a wasp in our apartment, and he smashed the damn thing with his bare hand. When I reacted with amazement, he laughed. It’s just a bug, Bailey. It’s smaller than the tip of your finger. “Mom,” Lily says when the beetle is secure in the soda cup. “When can we get an ant farm?” “When you’re eighteen and living on your own,” I say. “Mommy!” “You know…” Noah’s blue eyes twinkle. “An ant farm is really cool. I had one when I was a kid. It teaches you responsibility of caring for the ants, and you can watch them dig all these neat tunnels. It’s a great option for a budding entomologist.” Lily’s eyes are shining, and part of me really wants to do this for her. She’s been through a lot in the last few years, and this will be a great way for her to bond with Noah. But no. No way. I won’t be able to sleep if I know there are hundreds of ants crawling around in the bedroom next to me. “I’ll think about it,” I lie. Lily is too young to realize that’s a hard no, so she skips off happily, secure in the knowledge that I’m “thinking about it.” Even though all I’m thinking about is how happy I am that we aren’t getting an ant farm. Noah raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re not even going to consider it?” “No. I am not.” “Why not?” “What if the ants get loose?” He laughs. “Come on. The ants won’t get loose.” “The ants will definitely get loose!” I cry. “I can’t even imagine a situation in which they don’t get loose! Remember what happened with

Lily’s goldfish? Well, imagine instead of having to clean one goldfish off the floor, we had to clean a thousand ants.” I still don’t know how Lily knocked her goldfish tank off the shelf in her room, but that thing shattered into a million pieces. And sadly, Goldy didn’t make it. “If it spills,” he says, “I’ll clean it up.” “Damn straight you will. But still no.” Noah shakes his head at me. He thinks he can convince me, but he can’t. He won’t. “Mom! Noah!” My eyes are drawn up to the top of the play structure, where Lily is hollering for us. For a moment, my heart drops into my stomach and I see my panic reflected in Noah’s face. A few months ago, Lily twisted her ankle at the top of the play structure while we were here together. I am not what you would call nimble, and I could see Noah was itching to go rescue her, but he couldn’t. He went to the entrance to the structure, staring down in frustration at his legs. I finally had to put my arm on his shoulder and admonish him, Don’t try it. He would never have made it, but he would have stupidly tried. I practically twisted my own ankle worming my way in to get her. But Lily isn’t injured or trapped. She’s just waving at us. Or maybe she’s captured another bug. I don’t want to think about it. “Be careful!” I yell up at her, even though she probably can’t hear me, and even if she can, she definitely won’t listen. I sigh and lean back in my chair. “Sorry I’m crabby tonight. I was just really looking forward to having that romantic dinner.” “I know.” He smiles crookedly. “So was I.” “Theo always does this,” I sigh. “He cancels on us when we really need him.” “I’m not going to argue with that.” He lifts a light brown eyebrow. “Didn’t I say we should have just gotten a sitter instead of relying on him?” “And you were right.” “Just like I’m right about the ant farm.” “I wouldn’t go that far.” I allow myself a tiny smile. “It’s not just about the restaurant. Work’s been stressing me out lately, and I really wanted this night out with you. I wanted a special night—you know what I mean?”

He nods, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I know exactly what you mean.” “Oh, well.” “Hey.” He looks at me intently, an unreadable expression on his face. “Maybe we can still make tonight special.” I swallow, thinking of what Noah will do to me once Lily is safely tucked away in her bed. That tingle returns. When it comes to the bedroom, Noah is… well, he’s incredible. “Yeah, that would be great,” I murmur. He grins at the look at my face. “I didn’t mean that.” “Oh.” “I mean, I did.” He laughs. “But not just that. I mean, something even better. I hope.” I don’t know what he’s talking about. But if this has anything to do with the ant farm, I’m seriously out the door. But instead of extolling the virtues of an ant farm, Noah reaches into his pocket and pulls out… Oh my God. It’s a blue box. What’s he doing? What’s Noah doing? What is he doing at McDonald’s? “This isn’t where I wanted to do this, believe me.” His voice cracks ever so slightly. “But it’s not about where, is it? It’s about… well, wanting to spend the rest of our lives together.” “I…” My throat is so dry, that’s the only syllable I can get out. Then he opens it. And it’s beautiful. A tasteful square diamond set in white gold. I hate that there was a moment just before he opened the box where I was praying to God it wasn’t the same diamond he gave me ten years ago. I never want to see that ring again, and I’d guess he doesn’t either. “Bailey.” A smile curls his lips. “Will you marry me?” People are starting to turn and stare because… well, I’m guessing proposals at McDonald’s happen just about never. We could be the first. In history. This is the most romantic moment of my life. “Get on your knee, boy!” an elderly man—probably a grandfather of one of the little ones—yells out.

The smile on Noah’s face slips ever so slightly. He’s old-fashioned in a lot of ways, and I know he’d love to get down on one knee. It’s killing him he can’t. And the last thing we need is some old man pointing that out to us. But I won’t let it ruin the moment. “Yes!” I say. “Of course I’ll marry you!” He looks relieved—as if there was any doubt. And while Lily is playing happily within the play structure, he leans in and kisses me in the way that makes my toes curl every time. Damn, he kisses good. So good that my left hand won’t stop shaking as he slides the ring onto my fourth digit. But it’s hard to push away the thoughts that keep intruding on my subconscious: This happened once before. Noah asked me to marry him and I said yes. I returned the ring. I broke his heart. But it won’t happen again. Noah and I are completely different people than we were ten years ago. There’s absolutely no reason to believe we won’t live happily ever after.        

Chapter 2: Noah   I wake up at five in the morning every single morning. It doesn’t matter if I go to bed at ten, midnight or three a.m. At the stroke of five, my eyes fly open. I’m wide awake—ready to go. Ready to run five miles around the park, which is what I used to do before I turned twenty-two and couldn’t run ever again. I don’t need much sleep. Never have. Five hours is great, but I could do with three or even two. Bailey doesn’t have that ability. She’s conked out on the mattress next to me because I kept her up late last night, celebrating our engagement. Celebrating it three times, to be specific. Just because I don’t sleep much, it doesn’t mean I don’t have great stamina. Especially when it comes to Bailey. I’m always ready to go. That’s the way it’s always been with Bailey. I can’t stop thinking about her, even at times when I shouldn’t be thinking about her because I need to concentrate on sewing up the fingers of this guy who was using a band saw even though he clearly was not in any way competent to use a band saw. If they outlawed band saws, it would cut my business in the ER by a quarter. (If they outlawed alcohol, I’d lose half. If McDonald’s went, I’d have to find a new line of work.) I don’t think she knows how badly Bailey’s got me wrapped around her finger. So that’s why it’s half past five, and I’m lying in bed next to the woman of my dreams, using all my willpower not to wake her up for another round of celebrating our engagement. She looks so peaceful asleep. Her red-tinted hair forms a fan over her cheek. She’s got one white hair in the fan. I want to wake her up to tease her about it. Damn. Wish I could go for a run. The gym is half a mile away and I used to practically live in the pool on my days off before Bailey, but it feels too far right now. If only she were awake. Sex is the best exercise. “Mommy!” Bailey’s eyelids flutter at the sound of Lily screeching outside our door. Lily’s got the same problem as me—wakes up way too early. Sometimes she watches TV alone, but other times she wants company. I get it. When I

was a little kid and woke up at five in the morning, I wanted my mom to come sit with me too. I know it makes no sense because we’re not actually related by blood, but I see a lot of myself in Lily. I wish I were her dad instead of that loser jackass who stands her up more often than not. She deserves better. I don’t want to come off as arrogant, but I’m better. I’d be better at being her father than Theo. But she’s got a dad. So. “Mom!” Lily flings open our bedroom door, which we unlocked before we fell asleep. Not safe to keep it locked. “Wake up!” Bailey groans and rubs her eyes. She’s sexy when she’s sleepy. “So early…” I struggle into a sitting position. “It’s okay, Bailey. I got this.” When we first moved in together, Bailey would ask me over and over if I was sure before I got up with Lily. Now she just blows an air kiss at me, rolls over, and goes back to sleep. “Come on, Noah,” Lily says impatiently. “Unikitty is on.” She hops out of the room. I can’t do the same. In the morning, the first thing I do is reach for the wheelchair by my bed. That’s the only way I’m going anywhere. When I got in my accident a decade ago, the surgeon acted like once I got my prosthetic legs, I’d eventually be just like I was before. Wrong. In retrospect, it was dumb to ever believe that. How the hell could I possibly be like I was before? After you’ve had both legs amputated above the knee, there’s no way you’re not going to rely pretty heavily on a wheelchair. I use it in the morning and the evening, and plenty of the time in-between. One thing I’m grateful for is nobody under this roof makes a big thing of it. I’ve had girlfriends who have, but Bailey’s not like that. When she sees me limping home after a hard shift in the ER, she’ll bring me my chair. Insist I get in it. It’s a relief. By the time I get into the living room, Lily is curled up on the sofa, watching television. Her eyes are glued on the screen, to the point where I’m not even sure why she cares if I’m in the room. I’m going to come out and say it: that kid watches way too much TV. I’ve said it to Bailey, who shrugs it off. My mom had strict rules about how much TV I could watch at that age, but it’s a free-for-all here. If Lily were my daughter, this wouldn’t happen. I’d lay down the line— two hours is enough on weekends, for Christ’s sake. Yes, Lily is going to be

my stepdaughter, but I’m still not sure how much I should intervene… so I keep my mouth shut. Well, I don’t keep my mouth shut, but I don’t push the boundaries too far. I’ll bet when she goes to Theo’s apartment, he plops her down in front of the set and barely says a word to her all day. She probably watches five or six hours a day over there. “So what’s the deal with that kitten?” I ask Lily. “Why does she have a horn?” “Because she’s a unikitty.” Lily rolls her eyes at me. “Part unicorn, part kitten.” “So is her friend a unipuppy?” “No, he’s puppycorn.” She knows far too much about these shows. “Hey, Lil. What about instead of watching TV, we try to identify some of the new bugs in your bug catcher in the bug book?” I bought Lily a giant glossary of bugs, which she keeps on the coffee table so she can reference it as needed. I’m not sure if Bailey likes how into bugs her daughter has become, but hey, bugs are cool. Better than if she were into makeup, right? Lily looks between the bug book and the television, weighing her options. “Could we do the bug book later?” “Well, your dad is picking you up later.” In three hours. But still. “Okay,” she says. “Let’s look up bugs!” While Lily goes to fetch her bug catcher, I wheel myself to the kitchen to get some cereal. I notice when I’m opening the fridge that Bailey hung up a new sketch with a magnet. She does that all the time—puts up her drawing in places she knows I’ll find them. This one is a sketch of the entrance to the ER where I work. I wonder if she drew it while she was waiting for me. She got all the details perfect. Even the old man who is always sitting on the bench right outside the ER, smoking cigarettes with one hand while holding onto his oxygen tank with the other. Someday I’m definitely going to have to resuscitate that guy. Bailey is so goddamn talented. I have zero creative ability. Even my stick figures look bad. Not to say I don’t have good qualities. I’m decently smart. I’m a good athlete, even now. I know just about all there is to know about bugs without being an entomologist. But I can’t do anything creative.

Can’t draw. Can’t write. Can’t play an instrument. Whenever anyone has that kind of talent, I’m filled with admiration. I was nineteen the first time I saw Bailey draw. She was sitting next to the tree right outside our dorm, scratching away on her sketchpad. A stray strand of her hair kept falling into her eyes. She kept blowing it away, only for it to fall right back again, but she didn’t want to take her hand off that paper. She was so focused. I was already nearly in love with her by that point, but that moment sealed the deal. I was hooked. I knew this was the girl I was going to marry someday. Most of my buddies were talking about how to pick up drunk chicks at parties, but I didn’t want that. I wanted her. And now we’re going to get married. Holy shit. Of course, it doesn’t escape me that I asked her once before. And she ended up dumping me. She gave back the ring. Left it on a bookshelf for me to find. I don’t think about it. Those kinds of thoughts won’t take me anywhere good. I wasn’t ready then, anyway. The first time I asked Bailey to marry me, I wasn’t eager to get married. I wanted to stay with her, but I felt too young to actually get married. I was twenty-two—I didn’t want to be anyone’s husband. Now I’m thirty-four. Ready to get married. Ready as hell. Lily gets out her bug encyclopedia, and the two of us spend the next hour and a half looking at bugs. I have my doubts the kid will ever really be a “bug scientist,” but we’re having fun together and she’s not watching TV, so I count it as a double win. It’s just about eight when the door to our bedroom cracks open, and Bailey pads out in her oversized T-shirt and bare feet. That’s how she’s slept as long as I remember. Right now, she’s wearing my Knicks T-shirt, which is swimming on her. Her copper hair is still a mess, sticking up in every direction, but I don’t think she’s ever sexier than she is first thing in the morning. No makeup. Half-naked. Bailey looks great half-naked—she’s got great legs. I’ve always been a leg man. (Ironic, I know.) I want to run across the room and grab her. But that would be tricky because I transferred onto the sofa to sit next to Lily. I reach for my chair, considering it, but ultimately, I stay put.

“You guys want pancakes?” she asks, bending down to grab a skillet from the cabinet below the sink. Her shirt rides up, giving me a good shot of her bikini panties. Christ. Now I really wish I could run over there. “Pancakes!” Lily shrieks. That kid loves pancakes. I would have made some for her myself, but the kitchen stove is not as accessible as I’d like it to be. “You got it!” Bailey says. “What kind?” “Chocolate chip,” she says, rolling her eyes as if it would be absolutely ridiculous to consider any other kind of pancake. “Chocolate chip pancakes, coming right up.” Bailey winks. “Noah?” “Plain is fine,” I mumble. “You sure?” “Yep.” “One chocolate chip pancake won’t kill you.” “Please don’t tempt me, woman.” A few months ago, I went to the doctor and got my cholesterol checked as part of my routine labs. And it was high. My HDL was normal, but my LDL was somewhat high, and my triglycerides were awful. I don’t know what happened, because I’m still young, I eat right, and I exercise plenty. I asked the doctor if maybe someone spilled some lard in my tube of blood. It’s just genetics, Noah, he said. Of course, my mother is in her sixties and has great cholesterol. So if I inherited shitty genes, it’s obvious who I got it from. Just another thing I can thank my dad for, aside from cheating on my mom for half my childhood and taking off for the second half. So I really want chocolate chip pancakes. Who wouldn’t? But Bailey makes great pancakes, even without the chips, and there’s this sugar-free maple syrup that I like, so it’s fine. I can’t blow this off. I’ve seen too many guys in the ER with heart attacks in their forties. Except as she’s making the pancakes, I can smell the melting chocolate. Damn it. I finally crack and climb into my chair, leaving Lily to turn the TV back on. I should go shower because Theo is going to be here in an hour, and even though I know it’s my damn ego, I like to be dressed and wearing my legs when he shows up. The guy can’t stand me. Bailey says I’m wrong, but there’s definitely a pissing contest going on between me and her ex.

Doesn’t want me fucking his ex-wife. Definitely won’t be happy about me marrying her. Good thing it’s not up to him. The kitchen is too tempting, so instead of showering, I wheel myself over there, where Bailey is humming to herself as she flips the pancake, her hips swaying to a song that’s in her head. She’s making the pancakes in multiple sizes, because Lily likes to have “Daddy pancakes, Mommy pancakes, and Baby pancakes.” I grab her from behind, and she squeals before falling into my lap. “You’re going to make me burn the pancakes!” she scolds me. I focus on the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her slightly upturned nose. “Eh, it’s not worth it if they don’t have chocolate chips.” She rolls her eyes, but rewards me with a chocolate chip she swipes from the bag on the counter. She feeds it to be, her fingers lingering on my lips. “There. Are you happy now?” In an hour, Theo will be here. And Bailey and I will have the whole place to ourselves. For two days. I can’t wait. I allow Bailey to get up to remove the pancakes from the pan. She stacks them in a perfect little pile in roughly size order, then I grab her again to pull her into my lap. “We should get engaged more often,” she giggles. I freeze. I know the joke she was trying to make—she’s glad I’m being affectionate this morning. But the way it comes out… I asked her to marry me. She gave me back the ring… I shut my eyes. Don’t think about it. “Noah.” She touches the rough stubble on my chin. I need a shave. “Sorry—I shouldn’t have said that.” “You didn’t say anything wrong.” She chews on her lip. “What happened back then—” “I know.” “But I just need to tell you that—” “I know.” My voice comes out sounding sharper than I intended. I clear my throat. “It’s okay, Bailey. Really. I just… I don’t want to talk about it.” She studies my face for a moment, then sighs. “Okay. But I love you.” I’m halfway through telling her that I love her too when her phone on the kitchen counter starts ringing. Bailey’s ringtone is Beyonce’s “Single

Ladies,” which I joked with her was a hint to me when I first heard it. Now it feels like a bad omen. Bailey climbs out of my lap and peers down at her phone. “Theo.” Speaking of bad omens. Her face turns an angry pink the way it always does when her exhusband calls. If I’ve got high cholesterol, she’s got to have high blood pressure from all her dealings with Theo. But we don’t know because she won’t see a doctor except to get her birth control ring, and she won’t let me check it because “that would be weird.” “If he’s canceling…” she groans. “He wouldn’t do that again.” “Ha.” She’s right. Theo absolutely would cancel again. But I don’t want to be the asshole guy who’s bashing her ex. Bailey glances at Lily, who is watching TV but is also peeking glances at us. That kid listens to everything. She doesn’t participate in our conversations, which makes me think she’s not paying attention, but then out of nowhere she’ll ask us about something we didn’t realize she’d heard. “I’ll take the call in the bedroom,” she says, as she snatches the phone off the counter. She’s leaving so Lily won’t hear the conversation if it gets ugly. And when it comes to Bailey talking to her ex-husband, it always gets ugly.          

Chapter 3: Bailey   “What is it?” I bark into the phone. That probably wasn’t the nicest way to answer the phone. But thanks to Theo, Noah and I missed out on our dinner at La Petite Maison, and he had to propose to me at McDonald’s. So I’m not feeling particularly nice. “Uh, hey, Bailey.” Theo’s voice is low. I know that voice by heart—it’s his guilty voice. And since he can’t cheat on me anymore, there’s only one reason why he could possibly be feeling guilty. “Listen…” “You can’t make it today.” “I can make it,” he says. “But I had to pick up an extra bartending shift today and it starts at noon. So I can get Lily, but it’s going to be… later than expected.” “How late?” “Uh… midnight?” I stare at the phone, baffled. “Lily is seven years old. She’s not going to be awake at midnight.” Or whatever time he will actually show up. Two in the morning? Three? Nobody knows when it comes to Theo. “She can’t stay up this one time?” “No, she cannot!” “Come on, Bailey,” he whines. “I just want to see my kid.” A year ago, Theo swore to me he was turning over a new leaf. And he has… sort of. He quit his band that was going nowhere and got a steady bartending job. He’s managed to make nearly all of his child support and alimony payments. But when it comes to being reliable about picking up Lily, he’s not doing nearly as well. “You were supposed to pick her up last night,” I point out. “You can get her now if you’d like! Nobody is keeping you from seeing her!” “Look, I’ve got to take this extra shift. If I don’t, I can’t afford your check next month. It’s a lot of money, you know.” His voice is tinged with bitterness. “More money than you really need, especially now that you’ve living with that guy.” Theo had the nerve to suggest the payments be cut in half after I moved in with Noah. I told him to talk to my lawyer. Just because I’m living with someone, it doesn’t mean I magically have money in my bank account for

all of Lily’s needs. Yes, Noah probably would pay for everything if I’d let him, but I’ve got my pride. “Well, don’t worry,” I say. “You won’t have to pay alimony soon.” He’s silent for a moment. “Why not?” “Because Noah asked me to marry him. So.” I hear him suck in a breath. “And you said yes?” “Obviously.” “Jesus Christ, Bailey. Are you out of your mind?” I knew Theo wasn’t going to love this revelation. He needs to have a tantrum about it, so he can get over it, accept it, and we can move on. “No, I’m not, thank you very much.” “You’re not really going to marry that guy, are you?” “I just said I was.” “But…” he sputters. “Fine, I can see dating him for a while. And wanting to save money on rent. But marrying him?” “I fail to see the problem.” “Do I have to spell it out for you? He can’t take care of you. Not the way I could.” “Take care of me?” I practically burst out laughing. “Are you joking? When we were married, you didn’t pay the electricity bill and our lights were shut off. Noah is a doctor.” “You know that’s not what I mean. He… I mean, the guy is physically impaired. Is that really who you want protecting you?” Again, it’s hard not to laugh. “Maybe I’m remembering wrong, but didn’t he beat you up?” “I was drunk, Bailey.” I bite my tongue from pointing out how many nights he’s drunk on a weekly basis. And the truth is, Noah could have leveled him even if alcohol weren’t involved. I have absolute faith in his ability to protect me physically. If Theo could see Noah with his shirt off, he’d change his tune. Noah with his shirt off. Mmm… Damn it, I can’t believe Theo isn’t coming to pick Lily up so we can have some time to ourselves. “Don’t worry about my protection,” I say. “I’ll be fine. Trust me.” “That’s what you’re telling yourself, but… you’re not going to be happy with that guy. He’s not what you need to make you happy?” “Oh, really? And what do I need?”

Theo is quiet for a moment on the other line. “Me. You need me.” I snort. I can’t help it. “I mean it, Bailey,” he says. “You’re the love of my life, and I’m yours. We have a child together. We should be together.” Theodore Duncan is not the love of my life. I don’t know if there was ever a time when I would have said such a thing. Back when I was married to Theo, I would have said there was no such thing as the love of your life. But that was just me trying to protect myself. I knew even then that it was Noah. But telling myself that sort of love didn’t exist was the only way I could make myself feel better about blowing it with him. I won’t make that mistake again. “Stop being dramatic, Theo,” I say through my teeth. “I’m sorry, but I have to put my foot down. I can’t allow you to marry him.” “Well, it’s a good thing it’s not up to you then, isn’t it?” “Please, Bailey.” His voice cracks, and I feel the tiniest twinge of sympathy. Or I would if I didn’t still remember all the nights he came home with another woman’s lipstick on his collar, stinking of unfamiliar perfume. “You have to give me another chance. I’ve changed—you’ve seen how I’ve changed.” I snort again. “In what way?” “I quit the band,” he reminds me. “And I’ve held down this bartending gig for a whole year. That’s a record for me.” It’s true that he gave up his dream of becoming a rock star to take a steady job. And he has been better at sending me the child support checks. But he’s stood Lily up twice in as many days. And he won’t get a respectable haircut either—he’s still rocking the long hair with the receding hairline. Not that I’m shallow, but I can’t imagine him getting hired at any respectable job while looking like that. “Please…” He takes a shaky breath. “I’ll do anything you say, Bailey. Just tell me what you need.” I need Noah. “I’m sorry.” “Well, how about if…” He pauses. “I can come get Lily now if you’d like?” “I thought you had a bartending shift.” “To hell with that. This is more important.”

I sigh. “It would be wonderful if you came to pick up Lily—she would be very happy. But it wouldn’t change anything between us.” “Fine then. I’ll be right over.” There’s a click on the other line—I guess Theo is on his way. But if he thinks picking his own daughter up on time is enough to win me over, he’s got another thing coming.          

Chapter 4: Noah   I thought after spending an entire day with Bailey, hanging out alone together in the apartment, I’d be feeling great. Like a million dollars. But I’m not. I’ve pulled a late shift the next day in the ER. Usually, I love work. The ER is my place. It’s my home away from home. Before Bailey, I might have considered moving in here if they offered it to me. I know every person who works here. I know where everything is, from the DNR/DNI forms to the kit for doing lumbar punctures to the solution that tells me if my patient is crapping blood. I even love the antiseptic smell of the place. I can’t imagine loving any job more than I love this. Well, maybe being a surgeon. That was what I always wanted to do, but it wasn’t in the cards. This is great too though. But today I’m dragging. My right prosthetic hurts like a mother. When I first walked in, it was the kind of pain I could ignore, but it’s gradually grown worse. If the ER weren’t so damn busy, I’d go to the lounge and yank it off for fifteen minutes, but there’s no time for that. Every room is filled, we’ve got patients in stretchers in the hallway, and the waiting room is hemorrhaging drunk guys who fell on broken beer bottles and need to be stitched up or get their heads scanned. Just another Monday night in the ER. Only two hours left in the shift. Well, two hours till Dr. Hayes shows up, then it’ll be another hour to get caught up on paperwork before I can leave. “You okay, Doc?” I look up from the computer where I’m supposed to be putting in orders, but am actually taking a load off my right leg, hoping the pain will ease up. It won’t go away, but if I could get it down to a seven out of ten instead of a ten out of ten, that would be great. A seven is the guy on the visual analog pain scale who is frowning but not crying. Claire Morgan, the charge nurse for the ER, is standing over me, her light brown eyebrows bunched together. Claire is the best of all the nurses, and I try to make my shifts line up with hers because it makes my life so much easier. She’s worked here nearly two decades—since she was fresh out of nursing school. She knows what I’m thinking before I even think it.

We slept together once. We don’t talk about it, and honestly, it’s barely a blip on my radar anymore. It was a long time ago. “I’m fine,” I say, flashing a smile that hopefully doesn’t look too much like a grimace. “Hey, Claire, are those new scrubs?” “Don’t try to charm your way out of this one.” She folds her slim but muscular arms across her chest. I’ve seen Claire singlehandedly throw a two-hundred-pound drunk out the door. “You’ve been limping all morning. Even worse than usual.” Her eyes soften. “You need a Tylenol or an ibuprofen?” “No, I’m good.” I’m not good at all, but Tylenol or ibuprofen won’t touch me. I may as well pop a Tic Tac. She lowers her voice a few notches as she leans in close to me. “You need a wheelchair? I can grab a spare.” I’m tempted. But the chairs in the ER are shit. I won’t be able to balance, and it’ll probably pull left or who the hell knows. “That’s okay.” My stomach lets out a low growl and I realize it’s dinnertime and I forgot to bring the sandwich Bailey made for me. “Actually, got a sandwich?” She pats her dark purple scrub pants. “Fresh out. But I can have someone run out to the food truck.” The food truck. That could very well be the culprit in my high cholesterol. But what am I supposed to get from a food truck—a salad? I’d die from E coli. “No, thanks.” “Okay, well, whenever you’re ready, there’s a guy with bloody stool in Two. The fun continues.” I smile thinly. “Thanks, Claire.” She returns the smile. “No problem, Doc.” She always calls me “Doc.” That’s her name for all the doctors. I would have thought after we fooled around, she might upgrade me to Noah. Then again, I don’t kid myself I’m the only doctor she’s slept with. Those scrubs reveal some pretty tempting curves—not that I’m looking anymore. But back before Bailey, I would have been happy to make it a regular thing with Claire if she’d been up for it. I have a rule about no sleeping with women I work with, but there’s an exception to every rule. “By the way, Doc,” she says. “The nurse for that guy is Kaitlin.” I frown. “Kaitlin?”

Claire snorts. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that little blonde thing making googly eyes at you the whole shift.” “Didn’t notice.” But it’s not atypical. The young nurses make googly eyes at any doctor who isn’t geriatric. “You will.” She winks at me. “Trust me on this. Kaitlin is intense.” Intense? Great. Just what I need tonight. I put my hands on the sides of my seat, readying myself to stand up. My right limb has stopped throbbing, but I know it will start again the second I stand up. Two more hours. Two more hours and I can get the hell out of here. I struggle to my feet, nearly losing my balance and falling back into the chair, but I get up successfully. Almost instantly, the pain starts up again like it was never gone. I really should have used my wheelchair today. I don’t use it nearly as much as I ought to, especially at work. But it’s a pain to be in the chair in the ER. Can’t navigate as well when it gets crowded. Everything is slower. And procedures are a pain in the ass. I usually strap my chest to the chair so I don’t lose my balance while trying to put in a central line or something like that. Intubating patients is even trickier. “Dr. Walsh!” A young blond nurse materializes in front of me. Her scrubs are neon pink—so bright they hurt my eyes. I suspect this is the Kaitlin I was warned about, based on the way she’s looking at me. Also, her badge says Kaitlin. “Mr. Gordon is all set for you!” “Great, thanks,” I say. She bats her eyes at me. “Would you like me to read off his vitals?” She’s attractive. I’m not going to say she isn’t. But even if Bailey weren’t around, it’s not my thing to screw new, young nurses I work with. It’s a bad idea, although a lot of my colleagues disagree. “That’s okay. I got ‘em from the computer.” “Is there anything I can do for you?” She reaches out and touches my forearm. Her fingers are icy cold. “Anything at all?” “I’ll let you know after I see the guy.” Kaitlin giggles like I said something hilarious. This is exhausting. Sometimes a little harmless flirting is fun, but not now. Not today. She scurries off to see another patient, while I square my shoulders in preparation for this new patient. I need to speed up. I’m usually much faster

than this, but the pain is making me drag. I’d give anything to go home right now and sink into my wheelchair. Or even just grab a bite of food. “Noah!” I lift my eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. Holy shit, it’s Bailey. In the ER. She’s got her hair tied into a messy bun behind her head, and she’s wearing her gray leggings under her pea-green Thinsulate jacket. For the first time in a good two hours, I smile. “Bailey! What are you doing here?” She thrusts a brown paper bag at my chest. “Your dinner! You forgot it! Claire let me pop in to give it to you.” “Thanks. So much.” I take the bag from her, knowing I won’t be able to eat it for another half-hour, but that’s okay. Bailey makes the best sandwiches. This one was chicken pesto with red peppers. I was kicking myself for having forgotten it. “I was really hungry.” “I psychically sensed you were hungry.” She smiles proudly. “And I had time to kill.” I look at the clock on the wall and frown in confusion. “It’s seven o’clock. Aren’t you supposed to be… how are you here?” “Lily’s with a sitter. Tonight is her spring parent-teacher conference. So I figured I’d take the scenic route.” I grin. “So that means you don’t have time for a quickie in the lounge?” She glances around the busy ER. It’s as bad as it’s ever been right now. “Do you have time for a quickie?” “No,” I say regretfully. I lean in and kiss her as tastefully as I can manage. “Thanks for the sandwich. I won’t be home too late.” “Good.” She reaches out to squeeze my fingers. Christ, I wish I could go with her. Instead, I have to see a guy with bloody stool. I don’t know how I do it, but I manage to blow through a dozen patients in the next hour. The ER is busy, but nobody is all that sick. I had to admit one guy with pneumonia, but I sent everyone else on their way. My right leg is still throbbing, but knowing I’ve only got one hour left on my feet makes it tolerable. Claire comes by while I’m taking a breather at a computer and leans over me. “Hanging in there, Doc?” “I’m fine.”

She smiles at me. She’s about five years older than me, with lines around her eyes that deepen when her lips curl. “Nice diamond Bailey’s got. When did that happen?” I look up from the patient census on the screen. “Friday night.” “Oh… that French place?” “McDonald’s, actually.” She throws her head back and laughs. “And she said yes? Wow, good thing you’re handsome. Well, congratulations. She’s a good one.” “Thanks. I think so too.” Claire seems to like Bailey a lot. She doesn’t know any of our history. Likewise, Bailey doesn’t know I slept with Claire years ago. I’m going to keep it that way. “Got a good one for you in Five,” Claire says. “Oh yeah?” “Bar fight. Forehead laceration from a beer bottle.” I roll my eyes. “Jesus… it’s only seven o’clock. Isn’t it a little early for a bar fight?” Usually those come in after midnight. Guys who should have gone home hours earlier, but just sit at the bar, getting drunker and drunker. Reminds me of the days when my father used to stumble home at one in the morning, waking up the whole house. More than once, my mother had to take us all to the ER because my father had a gash that wouldn’t stop bleeding. “It’s never too early for a bar fight, Doc.” I get back on my feet, ignoring the throb in my right lower limb. If I have to suture up this guy’s forehead, I’ll grab a stool. Or maybe Kaitlin the Nurse will grab it for me. She’s been fawning over me nonstop. I limp over to Room Five. A chart is hanging off the basket on the door, and I flip through it. Just like Claire told me—bar fight, forehead laceration. Easy. But when I push the door open, my mouth falls open when I see the man sitting the room. I look back down at the chart in my hand and see the name in bold letters. Theodore Duncan. How the hell did I miss that one?      

Chapter 5: Bailey   I love parent-teacher conferences. I haven’t been to many of them yet, but so far, they’re great. Who wouldn’t like them? What’s not to like about sitting down with your child’s teacher and getting to hear how wonderful they are for ten minutes? I arrive at Lily’s school ten minutes early for my conference with Mrs. Babcock, so I take the time to browse the drawings in the hallway. All the kids in the class did an “about me” poster, which has a photo of them in the center with scattered facts about themselves. The photo of Lily was taken at school by her teacher, and it’s not terribly flattering. She looks like she was drenched with water shortly before the photo was taken—sometimes I wonder what they do in this school. Under future career, Lily wrote “bug sintist.” Under favorite food, Lily wrote “cooky.” Under hero, Lily wrote “Noah becuz he is a docter and licks bugs.” I am assuming she meant he likes bugs, or else he and I need to have a little talk. While I’m looking at the drawings, I’m joined by Elise Katz, who is probably my best friend among the parents, even though her daughter Arianna is not in Lily’s class. Like me, Elise is a single mom with an exhusband who is a less-than-stellar father. We bonded over this bigtime at the beginning of the year, when we were waiting together at the bus stop in the morning and picking up our girls at the afterschool program at the Y. But since Noah has started picking up Lily more often, she’s become a little more standoffish. “Hey, Bailey.” Elise is petite with jet black hair she always keeps tied back in a professional-looking knot. She’s really pretty, although she hardly ever dates. “Teacher running behind?” “No, I’m early.” She laughs. “Oh, go you. You’re always so on top of things.” I beam with pride at that one. Last year, nobody would have made a statement like that about me. I was a mess last year. Always running at least fifteen minutes behind. I’m not sure why living with Noah has helped me to be on time for things better, but it just has.

“Hey…” Elise grabs my left hand and holds it up accusingly. “When did this happen?” I can’t suppress a smile. I know I won’t be able to wear the ring much on a daily basis, because even a modest diamond is obnoxious in my line of work. But I want a week of wearing it. As a treat to myself. “Friday night.” “Oh my God.” Elise shakes her head. “I can’t believe you’re marrying Mr. Perfect.” “Noah’s not perfect.” “Name one thing about him that isn’t perfect.” I chew on my lip. Elise doesn’t know Noah is a double amputee. She’s only met him a few times, and it just… well, it never came up. It’s not something you can’t just blurt out easily. I probably should tell her, because Noah’s been using his chair a lot more lately because of increased pain, but I’m fairly sure if I told her now, she’d assume I was joking. And I don’t have time to clear that up with a mere three minutes until my conference with Mrs. Babcock. “He snores,” I say instead. “How loud?” “Not that loud,” I admit. She gives me a thumbs-down. “Nope. Try again.” “When he does the laundry, he can’t figure out the difference between my clothes and Lily’s.” I was absolutely baffled when I saw he had sorted Lily’s black leggings into my drawer. I was slightly flattered though. “Bailey.” She makes a face at me. “You have a boyfriend who does your laundry. You can’t complain about that. He could literally set the laundry on fire, and he’d still be better than any guy I’ve ever dated.” Ooh, I’ve got one! “He wants us to get an ant farm.” Elise takes a step back, considering that one. “Okay, fine. That’s pretty bad. Also…” She glances up at the poster Lily made. “Word on the street is he licks bugs.” Our conversation is interrupted by the door to Mrs. Babcock’s classroom cracking open. She actually finished her last conference on time, which is some sort of miracle. By this time in the evening, the conferences are sometimes running up to an hour behind. Parents don’t seem to know the meaning of “ten minutes” when discussing their children. I get it though.

Mrs. Babcock spots me in the hallway and waves. She’s about ten years older than me, with a sensible chestnut bob and horn-rimmed spectacles. She strikes me as one of those women who’s been teaching just about forever. Before the year started, we heard she was one of the best first grade teachers, so we were psyched to get her. “Mrs. Duncan?” Mrs. Babcock asks. I wince, even though it’s a common mistake. “It’s Chapin, actually. But you can call me Bailey.” “Sorry about that.” She smiles at me, although there’s something off about her smile. “Please come on in.” I head into Mrs. Babcock’s first grade classroom. There’s a whiteboard at the front of the room, with various addition problems scribbled on it. There are little tables arranged around the room, with four tiny chairs at each one. One of those tiny chairs is in front of Mrs. Babcock’s desk. For me, apparently. I settle into it and it creaks threateningly. And now I’m all ready to hear about how great Lily is. Except when Mrs. Babcock sits down at her desk, she isn’t smiling. There’s no twinkle in her eye. She is downright somber. “Bailey,” she says, “we’ve got a problem.”        

Chapter 6: Noah   I must be more distracted than I thought by the pain in my leg. Theodore Duncan. I must be blind to have not seen his name. On his part, Theo looks equally shocked to see me. His mouth falls open and a single syllable escapes his lips: “Shit.” He looks like a guy who was just in a bar fight. His checkered shirt is ripped, his hair is disheveled, he’s got the makings of a shiner on his left eye, and he’s holding some crimson-stained gauze to his forehead as he sits on the examining table of Room Five. He’s making the whole room stink of cigarettes and booze. “I’ll go find another doctor to see you,” I say. Theo blinks his swelling left eye. “You don’t have to.” “Yes,” I say, “I do.” “Come on, man. I just want to get stitched up and get out of here. “It would be extremely unprofessional for me to treat you.” He lets out a snort. “You do everything by the book, don’t you, Noah? So goddamn boring. I don’t know how Bailey can stand it.” I should be grateful to Theo, because he’s making me forget all about my throbbing right limb. My hand not holding his folder balls into a fist. “Excuse me?” He pulls the gauze from his wound, which is oozing badly. He definitely needs stitches. If it were a woman or a child, I’d be calling plastic surgery, but I have a feeling Theo won’t mind a scar on his forehead. “Bailey told me.” “Told you what?” “That you asked her to marry you.” He snorts again. “And she said yes. Amazingly.” I put down the folder and stare at him. “And what’s so amazing about that?” “Because she’s my wife!” “Ex-wife.” “That’s just…” Theo rubs at his left temple and winces with pain. “We were taking a break.” “You don’t get divorced when you’re taking a break.”

“You might.” “Maybe you don’t understand the definition of ‘break’ then.” “You’re an asshole.” Theo nearly spits out the words, his bruised face turning pink. “You think you’re so smart, with your doctor’s degree from NYU Medical School. You think Bailey is attracted to doctors? She likes artists. True artists.” “You mean like failed musicians?” “Fuck you.” I look Theo up and down, from his scraggly clothes to his unkempt hair to his battered face. “You’re a mess,” I say. “The smartest thing Bailey ever did was kicking you out. Look at you—a bar fight at dinnertime? Really?” “I’m a bartender,” he snaps. “I was trying to break up some fighting customers.” “Right.” Now it’s my turn to snort. “You stink of booze. Drinking on the job, huh? Real responsible.” “I just got alcohol on my clothes during the fight.” “Oh, yeah? You want me to run a blood alcohol level on you then?” Theo is quiet. He knows damn well he’s been drinking. “Bailey deserves a better husband than a guy who gets drunk and cheats on her.” I fold my arms across my chest. “And Lily deserves a father who isn’t a loser that stands her up half the time.” I get a lump in my throat when I say that last part. I know exactly what it’s like to have a dad who’s a loser, who never shows up anywhere he’s supposed to be. No kid should have to go through that. As much as it hurt when my father took off when I was ten without even saying goodbye, it was a relief to stop getting let down by him over and over. To actually be able to get a new pair of shoes to replace my old worn ones with a big hole over the toe, because for once, my father hadn’t squandered our bank account. “Don’t bring Lily into this,” Theo says. “It’s none of your business, Walsh.” “Maybe not,” I say. “And you’re lucky, because it was up to me, you’d never see Lily again.” I don’t mean that. If I could snap my fingers, I wouldn’t take Lily’s father away from her. It’s just hard to watch her face every time he disappoints her. And maybe there’s a threat there too. Start being a better father… or else.

My words get to Theo. He stares at me with venom in his eyes, even as the blood is dripping down his forehead. I square my shoulders and make a solid fist with my right hand, ready in case this guy tries to attack me. We’ve got security guards, but they wouldn’t be here fast enough. I could take Theo, but I’ve got to be ready for him. I don’t have balance on my side. “Lily is my daughter, not yours,” he growls at me. “And Bailey is my wife. You are not going to take them from me. I promise you that.” “It’s too late, buddy.” I take a step back, holding onto the doorframe. “I’ll get Dr. Cross to see you. That’s a nasty wound on your forehead.” Theo looks like he’s got more to say to me, but before he can get the words out, I’m out the door.      

Chapter 7: Bailey   My mouth is dry. There’s a problem with Lily? What could the problem be? Lily is perfect. She’s absolutely perfect. Well, no. She’s not absolutely perfect. She is stubborn as all hell. She once made me make her five different dinners in one night because the first four were somehow unacceptable, and I gave in because I had a splitting headache and it was easier to just do it than listen to her cry. She wakes up at the crack of dawn even on weekends, for Christ’s sake. But no child is perfect. Lily is wonderful. I love her more than I ever thought it would be possible to love another human being, and it’s hard to believe other people don’t feel the exact same way. How could Mrs. Babcock say there’s a problem? “Oh?” I manage. “She can’t pay attention,” Mrs. Babcock says, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “When the other kids are listening to the lessons, she’s looking elsewhere. Singing or just staring at the window. Or worse, she distracts the other kids.” I swallow. “She sings during class?” “Not loudly. But enough to tell me she’s not paying attention.” Mrs. Babcock shakes her head. “And yesterday, during Book Time, she was sitting with her book upside-down.” That sounds like a classic Lily move. Silly Lily, I call her sometimes. “I was trying to ignore it at the beginning of the year,” she continues. “But now it’s affecting her academically.” I shift in my tiny seat. I wish she’d given me an adult-sized chair. How hard would that have been? Instead, I’m an entire head shorter than the teacher as she tells me what a failure my child is, implying what a failure I am as a mother. “What do you mean?” The teacher frowns. “Lily is falling behind on her reading. We’ve had to put her in a special group for children who are struggling with their reading.” Lily is falling behind. She is being singled out for special help. I can’t believe this. Tears spring to my eyes. “Do you think she’s dyslexic?” “No, I don’t get that sense.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Bailey,” Mrs. Babcock says, “do you read with Lily every night?” “Yes!” I cry. “Every night!” “And how does it go?” Now I feel my cheeks grow warm. I got a class email from Mrs. Babcock at the beginning of the year, saying that our kids should read to us for twenty minutes each day. So I took out some books from the library, and sat with Lily to read. And it was… so… painful. Lily hates to read. She would spend the first half-hour complaining about how pointless it all was, and I’d have to convince her that she couldn’t get through life without learning how to read. After that was done and we cracked open the book, she got restless immediately. I’d have to point to the same word ten times, then she’d look at me blankly like she wasn’t sure what I wanted her to do. She would shift in her seat, flopping back and forth. At one point, she took a toilet paper roll and tried to read through it like it was a telescope. And if she didn’t know a word, she refused to try to sound it out. She’d make a half-hearted attempt, then whine and sob until I told her the word. I bought a book called Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Lessons. I started at the beginning of the book, working our way through the lessons. Lily hated those lessons though. She would cry and scream, and refuse to work with me. So I tried a different book on how to teach your kid to read, and then a third… and a fourth. None of them really helped. But I never gave up trying. Every night we would sit down and try to read together, even if it meant Lily would get frustrated and I’d lose my patience. But since Mrs. Babcock never said anything, I assumed she was still on target for her age. Apparently not. “It’s very difficult to read with her,” I admit. “She hates it and…” I hang my head. Even though I couldn’t afford it, I should have hired a special tutor when I realized I was struggling at teaching her to read. Or I should have pushed her harder. I’m really all she’s got—it was up to me to teach her how to read, and I failed her. I’m the worst mother ever. Mrs. Babcock’s eyes soften. “It can be very challenging to read with a young child. And I know Lily can be… especially headstrong.”

“I can do better,” I promise. “I know I can. Does she really need to be in the special class?” “Please don’t look at it as a punishment.” She tucks a strand of her dark brown bob behind her ear. “There’s no stigma associated with this reading group. Lily needs this boost right now, and I think it will help her.” Maybe she’s right. But I can’t shake the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’ve failed. I thought I could be a good mother all by myself, but it’s obvious I haven’t been keeping it together as well as I thought. “In many ways though, Lily is a delight to have in class,” Mrs. Babcock says, offering me a conciliatory smile. “Lately, she’s been very interested in insects, and she’s been sharing facts she learned about them. The other kids are fascinated.” I manage a tiny smile. The one achievement Lily’s made in the last year is courtesy of Noah. “My fiancé got her interested in insects.” “Is this… Noah? The one who picked her up from school a few weeks ago?” I nod. For the first time since I sat down in this miniature chair, the teacher’s face lights up in a genuine grin. Not at all an atypical reaction from women when it comes to Noah. “Lily talks about him all the time. Noah this, Noah that. I think she may have a crush.” “Yeah.” Welcome to the club. “Although…” She hesitates. “Lily’s been telling the class that he’s a robot. I’m not sure exactly where that came from…” Well, this is awkward. But while I didn’t tell Elise, I should tell Lily’s teacher. I don’t want my daughter to be accused of lying. “Noah, um…” My chair creaks. “He’s a double amputee and uses prosthetic legs. So that’s what she’s referring to.” She manages to keep her composure, but all the color drains out of Mrs. Babcock’s round face. “Oh! That’s… awful. I’m so sorry.” Noah hates the “I’m sorry” reaction, and I’ve grown to hate it too. “No need to be sorry. He’s got the robot legs, like Lily said.” “Right. Of course.” I can’t read the expression Mrs. Babcock’s face. I’ve noticed women react one of two ways when they find out Noah’s situation. Some of them back off. Others like him even better because they think he’s so brave for

what he’s been through. And also, the prosthetic legs are cool. I think so, anyway. A ding sounds from Mrs. Babcock’s desk, which makes me jump about a foot in the air. Apparently, our ten minutes are up. This must be how she keeps on schedule so well. Lily’s teacher rises to her feet, and I do so too with considerable more difficulty, considering I’m coming from about a foot off the ground. She offers me her outstretched arm. “I know you’ll turn this around, Bailey,” she says. Damn straight I will.        

Chapter 8: Noah   I got lucky. The doctor taking the shift after mine, Kat Hayes, comes in a little early and is willing to relieve me half an hour earlier than expected. I thank her profusely, while she points out all the shifts I’ve been willing to trade with her due to her son being sick or other child-related emergencies. It’s easy to be a good coworker when you don’t have a family at home that relies on you. That’s about to change for me, but I don’t intend to be one of those unreliable slackers. I hate people like that. I’m frustrated as hell by this pain. I’ve never been pain-free for one moment since my accident, and it’s something I’ve learned to live with. It’s a constant companion in my life—I can’t imagine being with it anymore. And it’s been this bad before, but that’s always been when I’ve been pushing myself. I haven’t been pushing myself lately. I’ve been doing what I always do, but the pain is worse. Maybe it has something to do with living with Bailey and Lily. Even though Bailey swears she doesn’t care, I still keep my legs on more now that they’re living with me. It used to be that I’d take them off immediately as soon as I got home from an ER shift, but now I find myself hesitating. I’ve got to get over that. It scares the shit out of me. I always knew there was an expiration date on my time on my feet. It takes a lot of energy and balance to walk with two above-knee prosthetics. I figured by the time I was sixty, it would be unlikely I’d still be able to walk. Now sixty is a pipe dream. I’ll be lucky if I’m still on my feet at forty. No. Can’t think that way. I just need a break. When I get off the elevator in my building, I’m holding onto the wall to make it down the hallway. I feel a surge of relief when I get to my apartment door and turn the key in the lock. Until I discover Bailey isn’t home. The babysitter, a perky girl in her early twenties named either Maggie or Maddie or maybe Molly jumps up from the sofa, where she’s been watching an episode of New Girl. I know it isn’t that late, but I’m jealous of how energetic she seems right now. Her blue eyes are bright, and she looks like she’s ready to hit up a bar right after this.

“Hi, Noah!” she chirps. “Hi…” I take a stab at it: “Maggie.” “Renee,” she says. Wow, I was way off. “Sorry,” I mumble. “How’s it going, Renee?” “Great!” She rounds the couch to where I’m standing. “Lily was great. Sound asleep. No trouble at all.” “Fantastic.” I clear my throat. “Um, what do we owe you for babysitting tonight?” “Forty dollars.” I grab my wallet from my back pocket, and pull out two twenties and a ten. “Here you go.” “Thanks!” She pockets the money. I want her to get out, but she hesitates. “Do you want me to stick around till Bailey gets back?” I stare at her. Why would I want that? She’s a babysitter, and the “baby” is fast asleep. So why would I want her here? Or maybe I shouldn’t ask stupid questions. “Nope. Thanks, Renee.” “Okay.” She lingers though, a coy smile playing on her lips, her white hands clasped together. “By the way… Lily was playing with that wheelchair you have by the door.” “Oh.” I’m not thrilled, but I did tell Lily she could wheel around in my chair in the apartment if I wasn’t using it (although only if I was present). She finds it fun. Yes, it’s fun if you don’t need it. “That’s okay.” She crinkles her nose. “What do you have that wheelchair for anyway?” I could lift the leg of my scrub pants and show her. But that would precipitate a barrage of questions that would eliminate any possibility of getting this girl out the door in the next thirty seconds. So I shrug. “Thanks for your help tonight, Renee.” I have to nearly shove her out the door, but once she’s gone, I can finally relax. I pull off both my legs and collapse into my chair. The pain doesn’t go away, but it reduces from a scream to a whimper. I can live with this. I grab myself a beer from the fridge and settle down to watch some television. After fifteen minutes, I’ve polished off my beer, but I don’t go for another. I never, ever have more than one drink. And when I’m in pain, I

resist taking anything stronger than a Tylenol or a muscle relaxant unless I really can’t stand it. I’ve got the same bottle of Vicodin I filled two years ago. My father was (and presumably still is, if he’s still alive) an alcoholic. On top of that, I look like he did when he was my age. And I might have his shitty cholesterol. I don’t want to know what else I inherited from that loser. I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to be a better person than he was. I have done better than he has so far. I’ve got a steady, decent job. I’ve been a good boyfriend to Bailey. I’ve had more shit to deal with than he ever did, and I’ve come out okay. But I never drink that second beer. Never. Half an hour after I settle down on the sofa, I start looking down at my watch. Where the hell is Bailey? The parent-teacher conferences must have ended at least an hour ago. I get a sick feeling in my stomach—is she okay? I reach for my phone in the shirt pocket of my scrubs, preparing to text her. But before I can, the lock turns on our front door. Bailey stumbles in, red-eyed. I watch her as she grabs a beer of her own and plops down beside me on the sofa. I flick off the television. “You okay?” She drops her head against the sofa. “I’m an awful mother. I’ve neglected Lily.” I frown. “What are you talking about? Lily isn’t neglected.” “When you were a kid Lily’s age,” she says, “did your mom teach you how to read?” “Uh, I don’t remember.” That’s a lie. My mother was just as obsessed as I was about me becoming a better person than my father, so she made sure I was always over-prepared when it came to school. She sat down with me every night to do my homework, followed by reading and then extra math. It could have been stressful if she were a different kind of mother, but she always made it fun for me. And then at the end, she’d say, If you study hard, you can be whatever you want, Noah. You could be President! Well, I’m not the President. But at least I’m a doctor. That’s not too bad. So I was always at the top of my class academically, thanks to my mom. And by the time I was in high school, the study techniques were so ingrained, she didn’t have to do much anymore.

“Lily is falling behind in school,” Bailey says. “The teacher says she’s putting her in a special reading class.” She turns to me with her red-rimmed eyes. “It’s all my fault.” “It’s not all your fault.” This time I’m not lying. I’ve seen Bailey trying to study and read with Lily, and it’s not pretty. After half an hour, both of them are on the brink of tears. Lily knows how to push all of Bailey’s buttons. “You’re always trying to help her. Lily is great, but she can be challenging to work with.” “I don’t know what to do, Noah.” I slide over to get closer to her on the sofa, careful to keep the empty ends of my scrub pants from getting twisted. I put my arm around her and she drops her head against my shoulder, sighing. It’s awful that Bailey is upset, but I like getting to be the one to comfort her. I’ve already decided not to tell her about Theo showing up in the ER. There’s no reason she needs to know that, and it won’t change a thing. But the fact that Theo is Lily’s dad explains why she felt so alone while raising her daughter. Who could trust that guy to do anything? “I thought I’d be a better mom with you around,” she murmurs. “Because you make us both so happy…” She makes me happy too. I might not be exactly where I wanted to be at this point in my life, but I’m with the person I want to be with. “Listen,” I say. “Do you want me to read with her?” She blinks a few times and lifts her head off my shoulder. “You?” I shrug. “Sure, why not? I bet Lily will behave if I read with her.” “Don’t get me wrong—Lily adores you. But you might be underestimating how much she hates to read.” An idea pops into my head and I can’t help but smile. This will work— I’m sure of it. “Don’t worry. I bet I can get her to read.”          

Chapter 9: Bailey   Noah offered to drop Lily and me off at the bus stop this morning. I’ve heard in the suburbs, the school bus stops right outside your door, but not so in Manhattan. It’s a ten-minute walk to get to our assigned stop, which is right in front of a supermarket. The benefit of that is we can huddle inside the supermarket for warmth on frigid days. And the stop is around the corner from the subway I take to get to work. There was a closer school that wouldn’t have required a school bus, but it was supposed to be “not as good” as the school across town. So Noah made a few calls when we moved in with him over the summer, to make sure Lily was at the best school. Not that it helped. Lily is sitting in the back seat, singing to herself. She’s dressed in this adorable purple velvet dress Noah’s mother bought for her with socks featuring ladybugs. But the crowning glory of her outfit is her sparkly headband with a unicorn horn jutting out from it. She has been wearing that horn intermittently since I gave it to her in her for her birthday in October. She was even wearing it for her school photo—she loves it so much, I didn’t have the heart to tell her to take it off. “I could drive you all the way to the school,” Noah says while we’re stalled at a red light. “I don’t mind.” “Yeah!” Lily chimes in from the back. “That’s too far,” I protest. “Anyway, the bus stop is right by the subway, so this is easier for me.” “I could drive you to work…” “Noah! It’s your day off!” He grins and shrugs, then puts his hand on the accelerator. About six months ago, Noah got his 4Runner set up with hand controls. He explained that he used to use them years ago, right after his injury, but then went back to foot pedals. Now he felt a need to go back to hand controls. It worries me. I think he’s in a lot of pain he’s not telling me about. He limps more than he used to. We pull up in front of the bus stop. There’s a handicapped parking spot right in front of the supermarket, so he pulls into it. That’s another thing—

Noah used to be really reluctant to take advantage of his handicapped plates, but now he always chooses those spots, even if he doesn’t have his wheelchair. “Arianna!” Lily shrieks when she sees her friend waiting at the stop. “Lily.” Noah cranes his neck to look back at her. “You want to go wait at the bus stop while I talk to your mom?” Lily lets out a whoop, then gets out of the car to chat with Arianna about whatever seven-year-olds chat about (and show off her unicorn horn). Once we’re alone, Noah leans in and presses his lips against mine. He hasn’t shaved yet today, and his stubble burns my chin in the best possible way. He is so freaking sexy. “Want to play hooky from work?” he whispers in my ear. I swat him on the shoulder. “Don’t tempt me. I can’t just not show up.” “Tell them you’re sick. Twenty-four-hour stomach bug.” God, it’s tempting when I’m so close to him, and he’s looking at me that way. “Come on,” he says. “I want to spend the day in bed with my future wife.” I summon up every ounce of my willpower. “I really shouldn’t. I used up all my sick days when Lily had the flu in February.” “So quit.” I pull away from him, staring into his blue eyes. He’s not joking. “What?” “You always wanted to be an artist,” he points out. “That was your dream and you’re great at it. So quit your job and become an artist.” “Noah, it’s not that simple,” I murmur. “I need a job. I need money.” “I make enough money that you wouldn’t have to work.” I don’t know what to say to that, except that I’ve never been supported by another person for my entire adult life. I was on a work-study program in college, I waited tables while I got licensed as a social worker, and then right after that, I got my first fulltime job. If I had ended up trying for a career in art, I would have supported myself with part-time jobs to make ends meet. I certainly never counted on Theo to support me, which is a very good thing, considering he barely brought in any income most of the time. Up until recently, it was a crapshoot whether I’d get my child support check. “I’d feel weird about that,” I mumble.

“Why?” “Because…” “Would it really be that awful?” I like my job. I do. It can be really rewarding at times. But there are also times when I get so frustrated by the system and clients who are slowly killing themselves and their loved ones, I just want to rip my hair out. Some of my coworkers have endless patience, but I’m not like that. This is not my dream job. And the income is a drop in the bucket compared to what Noah brings in. “It wouldn’t be awful,” I admit. It would be a dream come true, actually. But I can’t take advantage of Noah that way. I don’t want him to feel like he has to support me. Especially when he’s been having more pain in his lower limbs. If anything, he should be cutting back. “We’ll talk about it later,” I say. He nods and kisses me again. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have a man who cares about me this much. I get out of the car to find Lily and Arianna playing some sort of tag game, chasing each other around the entrance to the supermarket while customers with overflowing shopping bags try to dodge them. It’s only a matter of time before someone screams at us. “Lily,” I say sternly. “Stop running around. We’re in front of a supermarket.” Naturally, she completely ignores me. “Good luck with that.” Elise doesn’t look up from her phone as she talks. “I don’t think she’s able to make out the pitch of my voice anymore. She’s like a reverse dog.” I laugh. “I have the same problem.” Elise lifts her eyes. “Noah gave you a ride, huh?” I study her face, expecting to see that usual flash of jealousy, but instead her eyes are wide and curious. “Yes…” “He parked in the handicapped spot.” “Uh, well. Just for a moment.” “But he’s got handicapped plates.” She’s got me there. “He does limp…” She cocks her head at me. “Is Noah… what’s his deal?”

Honestly, it’s not like I’m at all ashamed about it. I find Noah just as sexy either way. But what I’m embarrassed about is that she’s known me for the entire school year and I never mentioned it. It shouldn’t be a big deal, yet somehow it is. I lift my chin. “He’s disabled. So…” She leans toward me, her face full of wide-eyed curiosity. Now I remember why I didn’t say anything to Elise—she’s a horrible gossip. “Seriously? What’s wrong with him?” “He… he lost both his legs in a car accident. He wears prosthetics.” Her mouth falls open. “What?” “It happened a long time ago.” And then the lie: “Before we were dating.” “Holy…” She covers his mouth with her manicured fingertips. “Both his legs?” I nod. And I can just imagine the conversation with the other mothers in the class. You know that hottie that Bailey is living with? Well, get this: he’s a double amputee! And this is why I never told Elise. I hate being the object of gossip. “Her certainly walks very well,” she says. “You know, considering…” “Yeah,” I mumble, knowing Noah’s got his wheelchair stashed in the back seat of the car and he’ll undoubtedly be spending the day in it. But none of that is any of Elise’s business. My phone starts buzzing in my purse. Grateful for the excuse to get out of this conversation with Elise, I pull it out. I squint at the name on the screen. Theo. Why is he calling me? It can’t have to do with Lily—she’s with me. And he’s not supposed to see her this weekend. Is he hoping to swap weekends with me? Because Noah wanted to take us to Coney Island this weekend, and I don’t want to tell him it’s off. I shove my phone back into my purse without answering it. The only person I want to talk to less than Elise right now is Theo.        

Chapter 10: Noah   Tonight Lily and I are reading together. I hit the library after I dropped the girls off at the bus stop, and I got a bunch of books that were reading level appropriate. The nice librarian in the kids’ area was only too happy to help me. I got a bunch of books about Pete the Cat, Little Critters, and a handful of others. I figured if Lily had some choices, she’d do better. I also bought some cheap poker chips at the drug store. When Bailey brings Lily home from school, I’m ready for them. She’s chattering excitedly when she walks in, her cheeks pink from the brisk spring air. But when she sees the stack of books on the coffee table, she freezes. “What’s that?” She points to the pile of books like I left some manure on the table. “Noah got you some books.” Bailey flashes me an “I told you so” look. “He wants to do some reading with you.” Lily lets out one of her patented extended sighs. “But I don’t want to read.” I’m a little hurt. Back in the day, Lily would have jumped at the chance to do any activity with me. Her crush must be wearing off. It’s a relief in a way, because it was hard to live up to her hero worship, but I was counting on that to get her to sit down to read. Bailey starts to say something but I hold up my hand that I’ll take care of it. “Lily,” I say patiently. “You have to learn how to read.” “No, I don’t!” She puts her hands on her hips. “I want to be a bug scientist. All I have to do is identify bugs.” “But how will you be able to do that without being able to read?” “Pictures! Obviously!” “Right. But how will you read the name of the bug?” She considers this a moment. Finally, she flops down on the couch. “Fine!” It’s not the auspicious start I was hoping for, but I’ll take it. Lily takes her sweet time choosing the book she wants to read. Bailey is lingering nearby, just about ready to lose her patience when Lily carefully

examines and rejects the fourth book in the pile. I end up shooing Bailey away, into the bedroom. Lily knows how to push Bailey’s buttons, but not mine. Finally, Lily selects a book to read. It’s a thin volume about a grasshopper and mouse that form an unlikely friendship. A big red tag declares it to be a book for early readers. “Okay, Lil,” I say. “Here’s the deal.” She looks at me with her big, brown eyes. I dig in my pocket and pull out a blue poker chip. “Every time you read with me for twenty minutes, I’m going to give you one of these poker chips. You need to find a place to keep them. And then when you’ve got fifty…” I pause for drama. “Mom said you could get an ant farm.” Lily’s mouth falls open. She raises her arms in the air and lets out a yelp. “Ant farm!” “Yes,” I say. “But you have to get fifty chips first.” She picks up the book from the table and plops down next to me on the couch. “So what are we waiting for? Let’s read!” Twenty minutes later, we’ve made a tiny dent in the book. I’d be lying if I said reading with Lily was easy. It’s not. Even with the motivation of getting an ant farm, she is very easily distracted. Multiple times she makes noises to indicate how little she enjoys doing this. But she does try. She sounds out words for me, although the sheer number of words she must sound out makes the process a little painful. I know if we do this every night, she’ll learn to recognize words better, but when she’s sounding out half the four-letter words, it’s rough. But she sits there for the whole twenty minutes and reads with me, without trying to leave or throwing a tantrum. “That was great, Lily.” I pull the chip back out of my pocket and hand it to her. “You earned this.” “Only forty-three more to go!” she yelps. Forty-three? All right, maybe after we conquer this reading thing, math needs to be next. While Lily races to her room to find a place to put her chip, my cell phone starts ringing in my pocket. Bailey always makes fun of me that my ring tone is the generic iPhone ringtone, but I’m happy with that. The last thing I need is Taylor Swift blasting from my phone every time I get a call.

It’s my mother’s name on the screen. It’s odd because I talk to my mother once a week, and I already talked to her this past weekend to tell her about me and Bailey getting engaged. So why is she calling? It can’t be anything good. No, that’s not true. Maybe she’s just checking in. Wants to see how I’m doing. Even though she hasn’t done that in years. I answer the phone, trying to push away my gut feeling that something is wrong. “Mom? Are you okay?” “Noah.” She sounds breathless. “You’re not working, are you? Did I catch you at a bad time?” “No, it’s fine.” She seems okay. Still alive. But that doesn’t preclude any terrible news. Noah, I’ve got three months to live. I’m not a momma’s boy by any means, but I love my mother. Before Bailey came along, she was the only person in the entire world I really cared about. She raised me single-handedly, working two jobs to make ends meet, and I owe every good thing in my life to her. So yes, I’m a little protective of her. “What’s going on, Mom?” I say when she’s silent on the other line. “Noah,” she murmurs. “I’m not sure how to tell you this…” “Tell me what?” “It’s your father. He’s had a minor heart attack.” “My… father?” I haven’t heard her utter those two words in a very long time. We don’t talk about my father. Ever. As far as I’m concerned, he did us a favor by taking off when I was ten. And he never showed any interest in coming back. He never called on my birthday, never sent presents or money… it was like he forgot we even existed. After my accident, when I was still hazy from anesthesia, I had a hallucination that he was at my bedside. I imagined he was sitting by my bed, holding my hand, gazing down at me. I don’t know why I would hallucinate something like that. I didn’t want him to be there. That was the last thing I wanted or needed. But it still hurt that he didn’t show. I almost died. He could have come to see me. So why the hell would I care if he had a heart attack?

“He’s being discharged from the hospital tomorrow,” my mother says. “And… well, he asked me if he could see you.” “What did you say?” “I said I’d talk to you.” I shake my head. “Why did you even take a call from that deadbeat? What did he ever do for us?” “He’s your father, Noah.” The statement pisses me off. Maybe Michael Walsh contributed some sperm to my conception, but I don’t know if that ought to give him the designation of being my father. A father is more than a goddamn sperm donor. But he’s still got the title—it’s a sham. I glance up at Lily’s open bedroom door. The sound of her singing to herself floats into the living room. Lily is a perfect example of this. Theo Duncan is her father and will always be her father, even if I’m the one putting a roof over her head, I’m the one who shows up on time to pick her up from school, and I’m the one who’s going to teach her to read. I would never disappoint that kid, but it doesn’t matter. As Theo pointed out the other day, I’m not her father. “I’m not seeing him,” I say through my teeth. “No chance.” “Noah…” “I don’t want to talk about this.” I would never hang up on my mother, but I really don’t want to have this conversation. “I’m not going to see him. End of story.” “If you wait, it could be too late.” “Mom, listen to me—I don’t care. I. Don’t. Care. I never want to see that asshole ever again. Ever.” She’s quiet for a moment. “We’ll talk more about this later.” No, we won’t. But I’ll agree to it if it will allow me to end this conversation.      

Chapter 11: Bailey   I look up from my paper-covered desk, where our receptionist Kerri is standing over me, her hands on her hips. I’ve been at work for too many hours today, struggling with too many difficult clients. If Kerri has bad news for me, I don’t want to hear it. “Hey, Bailey,” she says. “Your handsome boyfriend is waiting for you outside the office.” Noah is here to pick me up. That’s definitely not bad news. Kerri flirts with Noah every time he shows up to pick me up, although she’s married and I know it’s harmless. She jokes with me that I’m overcompensating after not having a boyfriend for so many years. Could be true. I gather my papers together, throw my purse on my shoulder, and head out to the reception area, where Noah is sitting on one of the old plastic chairs, waiting for me. Everything is in this office is old and needed to be replaced ten years ago. Social work is not a lucrative field. His face lights up when he sees me. After what happened between us a decade ago, I never thought he’d look at me that way again. But he does. All the time. “Bailey.” He tries to stand up, but those chairs are not easy for even an able-bodied person to get up from. He has to grab onto a second chair, and finally he makes it to his feet. Kerri is watching him curiously from the reception table. “Sorry I’m late.” “Five minutes late.” “Still.” He did an early shift in the ER this morning, so he’s still wearing his blue scrubs. He looks so freaking handsome in those scrubs—they bring out the color in his eyes, which are already a really vivid blue. Women turn and stare when he walks around in those scrubs. Much like the way Kerri is staring right now. I might be staring a bit too. But I’m allowed. When I get closer, he grabs me and pulls me in for a kiss. I can’t help but melt every time he kisses me. Nobody kisses like Noah. “Get a room, you two,” Kerri says.

Actually, Lily is staying at Theo’s place tomorrow night and we’ll have the whole apartment to ourselves. I can’t wait… “You’re so sexy,” he breathes in my ear. “I can’t wait to get you alone. He’s reading my mind. “Me too…” Except: “I have something really unsexy to tell you,” I whisper in his ear. “Uh… okay.” “We need to stop off to get groceries. We’re running out of milk and cereal. And Flintstone multivitamins.” He grins at me as he pulls away. “Wow, that was really unsexy.” “Sorry. That’s what you get for getting engaged to a boring lady with a kid who eats a lot of cereal.” “That’s okay.” He takes my hand in his. “I’m boring too. And soon enough, we’re going to have a lot more kids devouring massive quantities of cereal and milk.” We’re going to… what? Noah holds my hand as we walk down to retrieve his Toyota, but my head is spinning. A lot more kids. Yes, I always knew Noah wanted kids. More than one. When we were in college, he sometimes talked in abstract terms about having a “big family.” He was an only child, so that was something that was important to him. And back when it seemed like something far, far away, I was happy to go along with it. Big family? Sounds great! Except I’m thirty-three now. If he wants to have kids, we’d have to start pretty soon. And it’s not that I don’t want to have more kids, because I definitely do. But now that I’ve had a child, I know exactly how much work it is. And it’s a lot. Babies especially are so much work. You wouldn’t think they would be because they’re so tiny, yet they are. They’re these tiny little bundles of endless work. As I buckle myself into the 4Runner, I get a flashback. Three in the morning. I wake up in a cold sweat to infant Lily screaming her head off. I lie there, desperate to stay in my warm bed but knowing the crying won’t stop. I roll my head to the left and Theo’s side of the bed is empty—as usual. I put on my fuzzy slippers and pad out to the living room. And there’s Theo. Watching TV on our couch, drinking a beer, while Lily screams her head off in the bassinet six feet away from him.

Why are you just sitting there, Theo? She’s crying! Why don’t you pick her up??? She wants you. I wish I could say that was a one-time occurrence, but it happened more than I’d like to admit. Constantly, actually. Theo was incapable of changing diapers, bathing Lily, or getting up from the bed when she was crying. Many nights he didn’t bother to come home. We fought a lot over it, and sometimes it got really mean. I told you to get an abortion, Bailey. This is your responsibility. That is something Lily can never know. That her dad pushed me to get rid of her. I liked Theo a lot before we had a baby together, but everything changed after Lily came along. True, it wasn’t a planned pregnancy. But I was still surprised at how much it damaged our relationship. I would have told him to get lost, but I was desperately afraid of being all alone with a tiny baby. As useless as Theo was, he was better than nothing. Well, sometimes. Noah starts up the 4Runner, whistling to himself. He’s been having a lot of pain lately in his legs, but today seems like a good day for him. He’s happy. In so many ways, he’s completely different than Theo. But will he change if we have children? “Noah,” I say. He glances at me briefly, smiles, and puts the car in reverse. “What’s up?” “How many kids do you want?” He’s quiet for a moment as he pulls out of the parking lot. “Um… three?” “Three?” I repeat. “Three, including Lily? Or three more?” “Three more?” He glances at my face again, then quickly says, “Or three including Lily?” Shit. He wants three more kids. I can see it all over his face. “Well,” he says quietly, “you knew I wanted a big family, right? And when we used to talk about it in college, you always said you did too. I guess… I assumed you still felt the same way. You always said how hard it was for you with your mom… you know, being the only child…” “Right, but…” I play with a loose thread on my blouse. “Kids are a lot of work.”

“I know. I’m right here with you with Lily, aren’t I?” “Yeah, but…” He doesn’t get it. He has no clue. “Babies are a lot of work. I mean, if you think Lily is hard, babies are much, much harder.” He laughs. “You think I don’t know babies are a lot of work? I’m aware how much work it is.” I don’t know what more to say. I stare at the window, imagining a big pile of smelly diapers. Oh my God, if we have three more kids, how many diapers will I be changing in the next several years? Three kids times six diapers a day times three years… “I’m not going to hang you out to dry like Theo did.” His voice gets low and serious. “I’m going to be right there with you, all the way. Feeding them, changing diapers, putting them to sleep, staying up with them when they’re sick… mopping up the vomit, if need be.” He smiles crookedly. “I know it’s going to be exhausting sometimes, but it will also be fun. Because we’ll be doing it together. You and me.” I swallow. “Theo said he would help too.” “Right. But you can actually believe me.” He slows to a stop at a red. He takes the opportunity to look at me head-on. “Bailey, I love you, and I really want to have kids with you. I hope you feel the same way, but we don’t have to figure it out right now.” I look into his blue eyes. He means what he’s saying. He’s going to do everything he’s promising. He’s going to be right there with me the whole journey. And that will be amazing. “Well,” I say thoughtfully, “how about if we start with one and see how it goes?” His lips curl into a smile. “Yeah?” I nod. “I know you’ll be an awesome dad. You’re so great with Lily. Honesty, you’re making me look bad.” “Well, good.” He’s full-on grinning now. “And hey, if the kid is a little monster, maybe we’ll only have two.” I laugh, amazed at how the panic I was feeling minutes earlier has subsided. If anyone deserves a big family, it’s this guy. The thought of having his baby suddenly seems more exciting than scary. I can imagine how thrilled he’ll be when I tell him. As soon as we get hitched, I’m stopping my birth control.  

     

Chapter 12: Noah   As much as I enjoy spending time with Bailey and Lily as a family, it’s nice when Theo takes Lily for the night and we can have the place to ourselves. When Lily’s not around, Bailey will walk around in a bra and panties. And she gets really loud when she knows Lily isn’t in the next bedroom—it’s so hot. Theo has the afternoon off today, so he’s taking Lily for the day and then keeping her overnight. I volunteered to drive Lily to his apartment from school. Not my favorite activity, but Bailey has to work late again today so I told her I’d take care of it. The whole thing is backwards, of course, because if Theo has the afternoon off, why the hell can’t he pick her up at school? Apparently, the answer is Theo is not allowed to pick Lily up at school. There were multiple incidents last year where he no-showed and it was a big mess, so even though it’s a new school, Bailey doesn’t trust him to show up. Neither do I, honestly. I’d worry about Lily if he were the only thing keeping her from standing out in front of the school all alone. Sure enough, we’ve been sitting on the steps of the brownstone where Theo rents a studio upstairs for twenty minutes and there’s no sign of the guy. I’m getting pissed. I don’t have Theo’s number. If I did, I would be texting him, WTF? Instead, I text it to Bailey. Her response comes a few minutes later: He says he’s running late. He’ll be there at four. Four??????? It’s a quarter past three right now. Fortunately (or wisely), I wasn’t counting on Theo to show up on time, but I still don’t want to sit here for the next hour. (I’m assuming Theo will be later than his estimate.) Also, Lily is getting antsy. Bailey writes back: There’s a playground a few blocks away. Lily knows where it is. She doesn’t say the obvious, which is that she’s undoubtedly had to take Lily to that playground many times while waiting for Theo.

“Hey, Lil,” I say. “Want to go to the playground while we’re waiting for your dad?” “Yeah!” She leaps off the steps of the brownstone, full of energy, and is immediately racing down the block. “Hey, wait…” I’m not quick at getting up. “Lily, wait for me, okay?” I’m sure Theo would think nothing of letting her run down the block, but I don’t. If she’s my responsibility, I’m her shadow. Lily obediently slows down so I can catch up. Once I’m on the street, I can see the playground Bailey must have been talking about. It’s about two blocks down. The sad part is I’m considering taking the car. For two blocks. But to be fair, it’s not just two blocks. I’ll have to walk back too, so that’s four blocks total. Shit, I need to see a doctor. “Hang on, Lily,” I say. I limp over to my car and pop the trunk. I won’t drive the two blocks, but I’m going to at least grab my cane. I can lean on it to take some of the pressure off my right leg. I pull out the cane, cursing at myself for caring enough what Theo thought that I didn’t just use my goddamn wheelchair. “All right. Let’s go.” The park ends up being nearly three blocks away, so I’m glad I have my cane. When we get there, Lily bounds through the gate, thrilled to have the opportunity to burn off some of that excess energy. I’m just relieved there’s a free bench where I can sit. I wish we had time to read today. She’s actually been making good progress. Within five minutes of entering the park, Lily has already befriended another little girl around her age. An attractive woman around my age settles down next to me on the bench, sitting a little too close considering the bench is fairly long. I keep my eyes on the playground, not even glancing in her direction. I don’t feel like a conversation right now. “Is that your daughter with the red hair?” the woman asks. “Stepdaughter,” I say. Not really the truth, but it will be soon enough. “Oh, aren’t you nice,” the woman says. Am I? Why? “That’s my daughter Lexi she’s playing with.” A pause when I don’t respond. “I’m Trish, by the way.” It would be rude if I didn’t tell her my name. “Noah,” I mumble. “Are you a doctor?” she asks. Oh, the scrubs. I never changed out of them after my shift ended because I had to go straight to the school from the hospital. Although the

truth is, scrubs are my favorite kind of clothing. I’d wear them all the time if it were socially acceptable. “Yeah,” I say. “Wow, that’s so wonderful,” she coos, scooting closer to me on the bench. “I actually thought about nursing school. I still think about it. What do you think—is it a good career for a mother?” I end up spending the next hour giving career advice to this woman, while she inches ever closer to me on the bench. At one point, I’m certain her daughter is about to take a nosedive off the monkey bars, but when I point it out to her, she shrugs—and it looks like she’s right because Lexi ends up being okay. I might be overprotective, partially because I don’t have experience with being a parent and partially because I see so much shit in the ER. I would have been more sociable if the woman weren’t so blatantly coming on to me, and also if I weren’t so pissed off at Theo. Lily likes the playground, but it’s not like she’s forgotten he’s coming. Every fifteen minutes, she comes over to me and says, “Is Daddy here yet?” (Even though he’s very obviously not here.) I want to ask her why she even cares. When he’s with her, they never do anything fun together—he’s not exactly an attentive dad. But at the same time, I get it. I felt the same way at her age. When I was eight, my Little League team made the championship, and my father told me he was going to show up to watch the game. My mom was there, cheering for me right in front with all her might, but all I just kept looking at the bleachers, wondering where my dad was. And even though we won the game, I didn’t go to the pizza party after because I was too sad over my father not coming. Twenty-five years later, I don’t even know why I wanted him there so badly. But I did. Kids are dumb. By the time Theo shows up, I’m ready to punch him in the face. I see him approaching and mutter to Trish, “I have to go.” “Oh, that’s too bad!” she gushes. “The kids are having so much fun.” “Yeah, well.” Her face brightens. “You know what? We should have a playdate!” She whips her phone out of her purse. “Let me get your number.” I don’t answer her. Instead, I grab my cane to help me stand up. Trish looks surprised by that one, but it doesn’t wipe the expectant smile off her face. She doesn’t put away her cell phone.

“Daddy!” Lily shrieks when she sees him. She races across the playground and flings herself at him. Theo smiles indulgently, allowing her to hug him for about ten seconds before peeling her off him. My hand tightens around the handle of my cane. “Thanks, Noah.” He waves at me. “You can go now.” I take a deep breath, knowing this isn’t the time or place to lose my temper. But it’s hard not to say anything. He’s over an hour late. I’ve been waiting for him. Lily has been waiting for him. Does he think we have nothing better to do? What’s worse, he comes over and gives an appraising look at my bench-buddy, Trish. On her part, Trish slides back down the bench, averting her eyes. “I told you, you can take off,” Theo says to me. “You can go home and… fuck my wife. Or whatever you guys have planned for tonight.” And now Trish has suddenly gotten very busy on her phone. Then Theo adds, “Thanks for babysitting.” My face burns. I wasn’t going to say anything, but I have to. For Lily’s sake. I’m not going to punch him, but I’m sure as hell going to say my piece. “Listen to me, Theo,” I say. “I don’t give a shit what you think or say about me. But your behavior around Lily is unacceptable.” I take a step closer to him, and even though I’m leaning on my cane, he takes a step back. “She was waiting for you. For over an hour.” He nods at the playground. “Looks like she found something to do.” “Right, but that doesn’t mean she forgot you were coming.” He shrugs. “So I was a little late. Big deal.” “It is a big deal,” I say. “She’ll forgive you now because she’s seven years old. But there’s going to be a time when she won’t forgive you anymore. One day in the future, she’ll realize her dad is an irresponsible loser.” I think of my mother’s phone call: Your father had a heart attack. “And when that day comes, you can say goodbye to your daughter.” He snorts. “Whatever you say, Walsh. You’re just jealous.” “Believe what you want.” I shake my head at him, then take off in the direction of my car, going as fast as my throbbing right limb will allow me. As I walk away, I hear him comment to Trish, “Can you believe the nerve of that guy?” I don’t

hear Trish’s response, but when I turn back, she isn’t sitting on the bench anymore.        

Chapter 13: Bailey   Theo has Lily for the night, but instead of racing home together, Noah and I are going to the grocery store again. I know the height of romance isn’t trips to the grocery store, but you know what? Sometimes it is. When you’re dating random guys, you always feel like you have to be the best version of yourself and constantly having fun. You really know you’ve found someone special when you can go to the grocery store together. “Just a few things,” I promise him as he pulls into the handicapped parking spot near the entrance and throws the car in park. “It’s okay.” He runs a hand along my thigh. “I can wait. A little.” “And I need to hit the pharmacy for my birth control.” “Okay.” “Unless…” I arch an eyebrow at him. “You want me to skip it?” His blue eyes widen as he realizes what I’m saying. His brow furrows —he’s considering it. “No,” he finally says. “If we have a baby, we’ll never get the place to ourselves like this anymore. Let’s wait.” “Plus it’s tacky to be knocked up at your wedding,” I add. He grins at me. “We haven’t really talked about the whole wedding thing yet, have we?” “No, we haven’t.” I unhook my seatbelt so he can put his arm around me. “When are you thinking you want to do it?” “I’m thinking… soon as possible.” “Big or small?” “Small. Just us, our parents, and Lily.” I smile. “I love it.” Soon as possible. Noah and I could be married by next weekend, if we wanted. Well, probably not if we want our parents to be there. And I want to get a nice dress. Theo and I got married at City Hall, and I wore the only dress in my closet that still fit me with my bulging stomach. It was brown. “How about in July?” he says. “That way we could do it on a weekday without having to worry about pulling Lily out of school.” I love how he always considers my daughter. For the millionth time, I am filled with frustration that Noah isn’t Lily’s father. I made a huge

mistake a decade ago, and that’s the consequence. Of course, arguably I wouldn’t have Lily at all if I hadn’t made that mistake, but somehow I believe that Lily would still exist, exactly as she is, but Noah would be her dad instead of Theo. “That sounds perfect,” I say. We make out in the car for a few minutes, because honestly, we can’t keep our hands off each other most of the time. But the sooner we get this shopping done with, the sooner we’ll be back to our empty apartment, where we can have sex anywhere we want. If want to do it on the kitchen counter, we can. The idea of it makes me think we should wait at least a year before trying for a baby. When Noah gets out of the car, I notice how badly he’s limping. The last time we stopped for groceries, I just ran in and he stayed in the car. He told me his right leg was bothering him, but it’s even worse than I thought. “Are you okay?” I ask him. He winces as he puts weight on his right leg. “I’m fine,” he says, which is what he always says. Why do I bother asking? “Do you want to wait in the car?” “Uh…” He glances back at the car, considering it. “No, I’ll come with you. I need to get a few things.” “Do you want to grab your cane?” “No, that’s okay.” He takes another step and winces again. “I’ll just hold onto the shopping cart. It will be fine.” I don’t think there’s anything fine about the fact that he needs to lean on a shopping cart to make it through the grocery store, but he’s an adult and I’m not his mother, so he can do whatever the hell he wants. But I’m increasingly concerned when his limping intensifies as we enter the store. “Noah…” “I’m fine.” “Listen,” I say, “why don’t you use one of the motorized carts?” He looks down at the two scooters with baskets attached to the front and makes a disgusted noise. “Because I’m not eighty?” “Come on, you’re being silly.” “No. I’m not.” “You are.” “I’m really not.” “Listen, don’t you want to shop without being in pain?”

His shoulders sag. He puts his hand on the handle of the motorized shopping cart. “How does this thing work anyway?” “Uh…” I look down at the controls. “It doesn’t look too hard.” He sighs. “Fine. Okay.” Wow, I never thought he’d agree. He must really be in agony. He gingerly settles into the seat of the cart. He looks up at me and rolls his eyes. “I feel like an idiot in this thing.” “Is it really that much worse than a wheelchair?” “Yeah, it really is.” He starts it up and it jerks forward about six inches then halts. “All right, let’s get this over with.” Noah complains so incessantly about the motorized cart while we’re shopping, I’m almost sorry I suggested he use it. He hates it. With a passion. It goes too slowly. The seat is uncomfortable. It beeps when he backs up and everyone turns to stare at him. Did I mention he hates it? “People probably think I’m not really disabled and I’m just using it for fun,” he says after the beeping draws some attention in the produce aisle. “I should tell them how not-fun this stupid cart is.” “Maybe you should roll up your pants legs. That would do the trick.” “It would, wouldn’t it?” When I shop, I like to browse the aisles for deals, and also for things that will spark meal ideas. But Noah is so unhappy in the motorized cart, I stick to getting only the things I need. I’ll make another trip tomorrow if I have to. Like him, I just want to get this over with. We’re so close to being done shopping when it happens. I’m not entirely sure how, but Noah manages to ram right into a display of grape juice bottles. Glass grape juice bottles. I could see them lined up on the ground, forming a small pyramid, but because of the groceries in his basket obscuring his line of sight, he missed it. He runs right into them and… bam. Glass shattering, purple juice everywhere—it’s not pretty. “Shiiiit,” Noah breathes. If he hadn’t attracted enough attention before, when his cart was beeping, we’ve done the job now. Half the store seems to have gathered around to see what the commotion is about. Noah mumbles apologies to one of the guys working at the store who comes over with a mop, but it really wasn’t his fault. I mean, who makes a precarious display of glass bottles on the ground? They got what was coming to them. “Let’s get out of here,” Noah mumbles to me.

And then his motorized cart beeps loudly as he backs up. The checkout area is really busy—we picked the worst possible time to go shopping, apparently. Noah nudges me before I can get on one of the lines. “We should get in the accessible aisle over there.” I crane my neck to look. “What’s accessible about it? It looks like all the other aisles.” “The credit card reader is lower so I can reach it without standing.” “I can pay for the groceries, Noah.” “I’ll pay.” “They’re mostly for me and Lily, you know.” “I want to pay.” I fold my arms across my chest. “For God’s sake! We’re going to be married soon anyway, so what’s the damn difference?” He blinks a few times. After a moment though, the first smile I’ve seen since we got in here touches his lips. “Okay. Fine. You can pay.” Our final battle of the shopping trip is when Noah wants to carry the groceries from the store to his car. I get it. He doesn’t want a woman to be carrying groceries for him. But it’s obvious right now he’s in no condition to carry two heavy bags full of groceries. It’s obvious to me and it’s obvious to him. But he refuses to give in.” “It’s twenty feet,” he says. “Let me at least take one of them.” “I can manage two bags of groceries,” I insist. “I mean, what do you think I did before you came along?” “But I’m here. I can carry them.” “What is the big deal? I’m trying to help you!” “So you think I can’t manage a couple of bags of groceries?” “Noah, you could barely manage walking that distance without the groceries!” He stares at me for a moment, blinking his blue eyes. I went too far. I shouldn’t have said that. I should have let him fail, but I never should have told him he couldn’t do it. But I can’t take it back. “Fine,” he snaps at me. “Carry the groceries. Whatever you want.” I’m lucky it’s only twenty feet to the car, because those are a very tense twenty feet. I throw the groceries in the trunk of the 4Runner while Noah gets inside. When I get into the car next to him, his head is bowed, his eyes closed. “Noah? You okay?”

He takes a shaky breath. “That sucked.” “I know. But it’s okay.” He lifts his head and turns to look at me. “It’s not okay, Bailey. You’re right—I can’t even walk short distances anymore.” I reach out to touch his arm, but he tenses up. “You should make an appointment to see your doctor.” “Yeah.” He rubs his face with his hands. “But he’s a doctor. Not a miracle-worker.” I don’t know what to say to that. “Bailey.” He lifts his blue eyes, which look really sad. “You know, there’s a very real chance that within the next few years, I might not be able to use my prosthetics anymore. At all.” “Come on. I’m sure that’s not true.” “Really? Where have you been the last few months?” “You probably just need… like, an adjustment or something.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know. An adjustment to the socket might help, but it’s not going to fix this entirely. The pain has gotten steadily worse for the last ten years. It’s inevitable that…” He lowers his eyes, unable to go on. I reach out to grab his hand in mine. “Hey. That’s not true. And even if it is, we’ll deal with it. It’s not the end of the world. So you’ll use a wheelchair fulltime. So what?” “You say that, but…” His eyes become glassy. I know what he’s thinking about. Six months after he was in the car accident that took his legs, I made the biggest mistake of my life: I broke up with Noah. It was less about him than it was about the fact that my mother was dying of cancer, but that’s not how he saw it. We’ve put it behind us, but not really. He’ll never forget what happened. “Noah.” I squeeze his hand. “Please don’t think that. I don’t care if you can walk or not. It doesn’t matter to me.” I squeeze his hand even tighter. “I swear.” “Yeah…” He rakes a hand through his dark blond hair. “I guess… we’ll see, won’t we?” I frown at him. “Are you saying you don’t believe me?” His eyes meet mine. I can’t say if he believes me or not, but he clearly isn’t sure. It hurts, but maybe I deserve that. What I did to him all those

years ago was horrible. My only excuse was that I was only twenty-two years old and my mother was dying. I wasn’t thinking straight. That’s the only reason I can think of to justify such a horrible mistake. “I love you,” I say. “No matter what, I love you.” He finally squeezes my hand back. “I love you too, Bailey.” But he still doesn’t believe me.      

Chapter 14: Noah   It was a low point in my life when Bailey broke up with me after my accident. I had sustained a disability that was severe and permanent. My lifelong dream of becoming a surgeon now seemed impossible to achieve. And the woman I thought I would marry returned my ring. I started having some scary thoughts after that. It was enough that I finally allowed my mother to send me to the shrink she’d be pushing me to see since I got out of the hospital. I also started taking the antidepressants I’d fought against since my accident. Talk therapy didn’t do much for me. I’m not the sort of guy who can talk about my feelings with a complete stranger. Mostly, we talked about fishing. In retrospect, that was therapeutic in itself, because it made me remember things I loved doing that I could still do. Fishing is still therapeutic for me. I was self-conscious as hell when I went back to medical school. I still couldn’t walk very well, relying on a walker for balance, but at least I was on my feet. I was determined not to use my wheelchair outside of the house, even though the first thing I did when I got back to my dorm room was pull off my legs and collapse into it. My old classmates and friends were a year ahead of me now, and the lecture halls were filled with strangers. It was a mixed blessing—I would have preferred some familiar faces, but it was also nice to be around people who didn’t know me before and how I used to be. Eventually, things started to fall back into place. At the beginning of the school year, I threw myself into studying and physical therapy. My grades were at the top of the class, and my walking improved to the point where I could get around with just a cane. I also eventually found a group of students to study with (the main social activity in med school). I clicked with this group, and eventually we were socializing outside of school too. I had friends again. Julie was in this group. The year before, half my class had hooked up with the other half, but I had stayed away from that drama. I had Bailey, after all, and I was never even tempted to cheat. But now that Bailey was part of a different life, I

was free to look around again. And wherever I looked, I saw Julie. Whenever my friends got together to study, I found myself sitting right next to her. When we hit the diner at midnight for eggs after a long study session, Julie and I were squeezed into the same side of the booth. And whenever our eyes met, she blushed and looked away. I’m going to be honest here. Julie was not as pretty as Bailey. Bailey was my ideal woman in every way, and nobody else could come close. Julie was smart. She was nice to talk to. She had a lot of good qualities, but she wasn’t Bailey. She wasn’t the love of my life, and I sensed she never would be. But I didn’t care, and I doubt Julie did either. Also, it was so long since I’d had sex, cold showers weren’t doing it anymore. One night when Julie and I were studying alone in the histology labs, we both looked up from our respective microscopes, and suddenly, we were making out. I don’t know who initiated it—it was fairy mutual. And it was just what I needed. The first time Julie and I had sex, I kept my legs on. I pulled my pants down best I could and we did it. I didn’t even take my shoes off. The second time was the same. And the third. Eventually, Julie felt compelled to comment: “It’s a little weird that I’m completely naked and you still have your pants and shoes on.” “Well, taking off my pants would involve taking my prosthetics off.” I lay next to her in her twin bed, waiting for her to give me permission to take my prosthetics off, not sure I even wanted it. But it obviously wasn’t realistic for me to go the rest of my life without ever taking my prosthetics off in front of a woman. I had to learn to suck it up. “You can take them off if you want,” she finally said. “Are you sure?” “Of course.” So I did it. I wish I could say when I removed my legs, Julie embraced me tenderly, and we had wild monkey sex. Instead, when she saw my truncated limbs, her eyes got wide and all the color drained from her face. “Oh,” was her only comment. “What?” “Nothing.” I found myself getting angry. “Well, what did you expect?” “I just thought…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. Nothing.”

But the mood was officially killed. I made up an excuse and left her dorm room. And in a true act of maturity, the two of us never spoke again. Every encounter with women wasn’t like that for me, thank God. Some of them reacted like Julie did, but plenty of them had no problem when I took off my legs. Hey, some of them were into it. And then when I got into my thirties, I didn’t care quite as much what people thought of me. Not quite as much. It’s hard to turn it off completely. Bailey is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. When we’re in bed, she acts like she wants me as bad as I want her. I don’t believe that could be an act. She’s an artist—not an actress. But there are still times when I worry if my situation changed, her feelings might cool. When we get back to our apartment after shopping, she has to carry the groceries. I hate that, but what can I do? I’ll fall if I carry them myself. “It’s not that heavy,” she keeps telling me in the elevator. “Yeah, yeah,” I say. When we get inside, she drops the bags of groceries on the ground and swipes a strand of hair from her eyes. She looks so sexy right now. I want to prove to her I’m more than a guy who needs his girlfriend to carry the groceries and uses a motorized scooter to shop. I grab her and press her against the wall, lowering my lips onto hers. She squeals but then her body relaxes against mine. I feel her hands sliding up the length of my back. “Groceries,” she manages. “Fuck the groceries,” I growl. “No,” she says, “fuck me.”        

Chapter 15: Bailey   I love it when he does that. Just grabs me right in the middle of trying to put away groceries. I protest, but I don’t really mean it. I want him to take me. Now. His hard body is pushed against mine, pinning me to the wall. I run my hands up and down his arms, shivering. Noah has muscles up the wazoo, because his stress-relief method involves going to the gym and lifting weights (or swimming). I never thought that was my thing. After all, Theo is not exactly a muscleman. But God, Noah’s rock-hard muscles really do it for me. So sexy. I know he’d love to go all caveman and carry me to the bedroom, but if he couldn’t carry the groceries, carrying a grown woman is probably out of the question. We barely make it to the bedroom, pulling our clothes off as we go. Noah topless—oh Lord. I practically drool eying his six-pack and chiseled pecks. He is just so incredibly sexy. I want to taste him… I want to feel him all over me. He unbuttons his pants and now I know he’s going to take his prosthetics off. The first few times we made love, he looked uncomfortable at this point in the action. He even freaking apologized a couple of times. I told him flat out to never apologize again. I know he feels self-conscious about it, but he shouldn’t. He pops his right prosthetic off first, and there’s relief on his face as it comes free—that’s his problem leg, the one they tried to save, resulting in surgery after surgery until he finally gave up and let them take it. He sits down to take the other one off, then rests them both against the bedside dresser. Under the prosthetics, he’s got silicone liners, and under that, a sock that covers his bare skin. He strips it all down as quickly as he can. I’ve offered to do it for him before, but he’s resisted. It’s not sexy, he would say. Except everything about him is sexy. Once he’s got the prosthetics off, he grabs me and pulls me close to him, pressing his lips to mine. We make out like we’ve got all the time in the world, which we really do now that we’ve got the apartment to

ourselves. During our entire relationship spanning two decades, we never had the luxury of a place all to ourselves. Now we’ve got Lily, but before we had roommates to contend with. But at this moment, it’s just us. Alone together. Which means when his lips finally go south and he spreads my legs apart, I can be as loud as I want. And I want to be loud. Because, God, Noah knows exactly how to touch me. He is unparalleled. I’m so goddamn lucky.          

Chapter 16: Noah   I still can’t stop grinning even the next day when I think about my night with Bailey. Even when my leg is throbbing, it’s enough to keep me going. And my leg feels like shit, so it’s a good thing. Whenever I walk into an examining room and see a puff of white hair, I know exactly what’s going to happen. Little old ladies love me. Mrs. Jacobson, my patient in Room 10, is not proving me wrong. She’s eightytwo years young, and she loves me. The first thing she did when I walked into the room and stood by her bed was clasp my hand in her own wrinkled ones and say, “Dr. Walsh. You are so handsome.” Cue eye roll. Mrs. Jacobson tripped on her living room rug and bumped her head. She has been in Room 10 for several hours now, I have stapled up the laceration on the back of her head, and verified that her head CT didn’t show any blood lighting up in her brain. She is, as far as I’m concerned, good to go home. But she isn’t interested in leaving any time soon. “You know, Dr. Walsh,” she says, “my granddaughter Melissa is in nursing school. And let me tell you, she’s a real beauty. She looks like a young Audrey Hepburn.” “She sounds very nice,” I say as I scribble on her discharge paperwork. “She is!” Mrs. Jacobson beams at me. “Would you like me to give you her phone number?” “Actually, I’m engaged.” “Oh.” Her face falls. She couldn’t have looked this disappointed if I told her she had a huge subdural hematoma. “Well, of course you are. Congratulations, Doctor. I’m sure she’s lovely. Or is it he? I don’t judge.” “It’s she.” I grin at her. “And yes, she’s lovely.” As cute as Mrs. Jacobson is, I’m not nearly as charmed when I leave the exam room, only to find Kaitlin the Nurse waiting for me outside, a cup of steaming hot coffee clutched in her hand. She thrusts the cup in my direction, practically spilling hot coffee all over my scrub top. “I got this for you,” she says eagerly. “How do you take it? Cream? Sugar?” “Uh, black.”

She laughs as she bats her eyes at me. Christ, she’s got on a ton of mascara. “I should have known.” “It’s a little late for coffee though.” I glance down at my watch. “It’s nine o’clock at night and my shift ends in an hour.” And I’m engaged. “Oh.” She looks like she’s about to cry. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Walsh.” Usually I tell the nurses to call me Noah, but I sense that would give the wrong message. Claire strolls by at that moment, the way she fills out her scrubs reminding me vaguely of why I broke my rule about not hooking up with coworkers. Also, I don’t appreciate the way she smirks at me when she sees Kaitlin hovering over me. “Hey, Doc,” Claire says. “I need your expertise over here.” I slip past Kaitlin gratefully to where Claire is standing by a computer. As I get within earshot of her, she murmurs, “You’re welcome.” I shake my head. “She’s so goddamn persistent. I told her I’m engaged, you know.” “Right. But so was Dr. Lane. And you saw what happened last year.” I roll my eyes. Some people have no integrity and Alex Lane is one of them. Claire arches an eyebrow. “You want me to help you get rid of her, Doc?” “That would be great, thanks.” “Consider it done.” I glance down at my watch again. I very nearly decided not to use my prosthetics today, but stuck them on at the last minute. The pain in my right limb is not enough to outweigh the annoyance of being in the chair all shift. I do it when I have to, but I’d rather be able to walk. But I’ve been babying the leg—sitting whenever I can. It makes me a better doctor because the first thing I do when I walk into a patient’s room is sit down with them. Within the next fifteen minutes though, my leg is throbbing again. It feels swollen to twice its size, but that couldn’t be true because then it wouldn’t fit in the socket. I’m visibly limping though. Whenever I get half a chance, I collapse into a chair. The pain is definitely getting worse. I can’t pretend anymore. Thank God I’m at the end of my shift. “Are you all right, Dr. Walsh?”

Kaitlin. Standing over me while I take five at a computer. Christ, I thought Claire got rid of her for me. “I’m fine,” I say. “You’re limping,” she says. Her blond eyebrows knit together. “Did you hurt yourself?” Well, at least this proves I walk pretty well when I’m not in pain. I always wonder exactly how noticeable my limp is. But if Kaitlin didn’t notice it till now, I’m doing good. “There you are, Kaitlin!” Claire strides over to us, a clipboard in her hand. “I was looking for you!” A pink circle appears on each of Kaitlin’s cheeks. “I was just asking if Dr. Walsh was feeling all right. I think he may have hurt his leg.” Claire looks me over, an amused look on her face. “Is that so, Dr. Walsh? Having some knee pain?” For the first time since I got out of Mrs. Jacobson’s room, I manage a smile. “Just a bit.” “Well, then.” Claire flicks her gaze to Kaitlin. “Kaitlin, since you’re trying to hone your diagnostic skills, why don’t you take a look at the doctor’s knee and tell us what you think is wrong.” A look of joy mixed with excitement and fear fills Kaitlin’s smooth face. “Would that be okay, Dr. Walsh?” It’s hard not to laugh. Claire is evil. “Yeah, go for it. I’d love to hear your diagnosis.” “I have been reading up on the knee,” Kaitlin says proudly. “I hope you don’t have a meniscal tear, Dr. Walsh.” I doubt it. You need a knee to have a meniscal tear. I push my rolly chair away from the computer so Kaitlin can have access to my right knee. Claire is looking on, an amused grin on her lips— I’m sure she doesn’t want to miss this. Kaitlin rubs her hands together in preparation, although she doesn’t put on gloves. Not that I would have expected her to. “Can you roll up your pants leg for me, Dr. Walsh?” Kaitlin asks. “Absolutely.” And then I do it. I pull up the leg of my scrubs, and a crease forms between Kaitlin’s eyes as she catches sight of the metal pylon that makes up my shin. Then I pull it over my knee, to reveal my knee joint. I use

something called a C-leg, which is a computerized knee joint. My prosthetist can make adjustments to it on the computer in their office. In any case, it clearly isn’t what Kaitlin expected. I guess nobody clued her in about me. It’s beyond hilarious how her mouth drops open and all the color drains from her face. “Oh!” she gasps. “You… this is… I mean, I didn’t know…” I raise my eyebrows at her. “So what do you think? Differential diagnosis?” Kaitlin looks between me and Claire like a deer in headlights. “Kaitlin,” Claire sighs as she clucks her tongue. “Don’t you know that when you’re doing a knee exam, you always have to compare to the asymptomatic side? Dr. Walsh, could you roll up your other pants leg?” “Sure,” I say. I pull up my pants leg on the left to reveal an identical prosthesis. Kaitlin looks like she’s about to faint. “Car accident,” I say, taking pity on her. “Long time ago.” I put my right hand at the mid-thigh level. “This is where I end.” I can almost hear Kaitlin swallow. “Oh.” “Also, he’s engaged,” Claire adds. Kaitlin’s face is bright pink. She sputters out a few unintelligible words before she races off to God knows where. The second she’s gone, Claire and I burst out laughing. Okay, that was mean. But I needed to get Kaitlin off my back. I can’t work like this. And the purpose of being here is to treat patients, not to flirt with nurses. Despite what some of my colleagues seem to think. I don’t end up seeing Kaitlin for the rest of the shift. It goes quickly—I spend a good chunk of time on a guy with chest pain whose EKG shows huge ST elevations that could be right out of a textbook. I get him safely in the hands of cardiology, finish up my documentation, then breathe a sigh of relief while I walk out the door. I still haven’t made an appointment to see my own doctor, but I really need to. Soon. But right now, all I can think about is going home. I’ve got tomorrow off, and I’m not touching these prosthetics again for at least twenty-four hours. I can’t wait. Except as soon as I get out of the ER, I get a surprise. There’s someone waiting for me.

“Hey, Noah.” Theo Duncan is staring at me, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “We need to talk.” Shit.      

Chapter 17: Bailey   “All right, Lily,” I say. “Time to shut off the television and do your reading for the night.” Lily flops around on the sofa, a pout on her lips. “But I want to read with Noah.” “But Noah is at the hospital. He isn’t going to be home till late.” “So I’ll wait.” “He won’t be home till past your bedtime.” Lily rolls her eyes. “Why does he have to work so late?” I grit my teeth. Lily has been obediently reading with Noah every single night. I’ve been listening in to their sessions and she’s doing great. She’s improved so much in a short amount of time. The chips and the possibility of getting an ant farm motivate her, but it’s also Noah himself. He is so patient with her. No matter what, he never loses his cool. I don’t know what I’d been doing wrong all this time, but it’s clear he’s doing everything right. “Can’t you read with me just tonight?” I plead with her. “No.” “Lily!” She folds her arms across her chest. “I want Noah!” So do I. I flop down next to her on the sofa. It’s only an hour before bedtime and I don’t want to set off a huge tantrum. It won’t kill her to miss one night of reading. “All right,” I say. “You can skip tonight, as long as you read for two sessions with Noah tomorrow.” “Okay!” she says happily. She picks up a lock of her hair and starts sucking on it. “Mommy?” “Lily, don’t eat your hair, please.” “But it tastes so good!” “Lily…” She pulls the damp hair from her lips. She does occasionally listen to me without an argument. “Mommy?” “Yes?”

“Will you read Baby Bear to me?” Her question takes me by surprise. The book she calls “Baby Bear” is a picture book about a little bear who is goes to a giant amusement park. When Lily was three or four years old, it was her favorite book. I tried to read her other books, but she insisted on that one every single night. I got so sick of it that at one point, I wanted to toss it out the window so I’d never have to read it again. I was never sure what she liked about it, although it always made me feel guilty I didn’t have the money to take her to a real amusement park. We haven’t read that book in at least a year. I wonder what made her think of it. “Okay,” I agree. “Let me go find it.” It takes a minute of searching through her bookcase, but I finally find it stuffed in the middle shelf, next to an issue of Highlights. I come out and Lily is curled up on the couch, patiently waiting for me. When I sit down beside her, she cuddles up to me and rests her head on my shoulder. “Baby Bear Goes to the Fun Park,” I begin. “Once upon a time…” “Mommy?” I pause, mid-sentence. “Yes?” “When you and Noah get married, will he be my dad?” Uh oh. Tricky questions from a seven-year-old. I should have been prepared for this one, but somehow it takes me by surprise. “Well, sort of. He’ll be your stepdad. That’s almost the same thing.” “Stepdads are mean.” “No, they aren’t.” “Cinderella’s stepmother was mean.” “Well, that’s stepmothers.” I’m really reaching now. “Anyway, you already know Noah, and you know he’s not mean. You know he loves you.” “But why can’t he be my regular dad?” “Because Daddy is your dad,” I explain patiently. “And you can only have one dad. You can’t have two.” “Oliver does.” “Right, but that’s…” I had a talk with Lily about Oliver’s two dads earlier in the year, but I feel like she still doesn’t get it. “That’s a different situation.” Lily puts her hair back in her mouth, and I cringe. Why does she keep doing that? It can’t actually taste good! I read an article about people who

get these huge hairballs in their stomachs that need to be surgically removed. But I’m assuming that’s pretty rare. Right? Maybe I should ask Noah. Lily chews thoughtfully on her hair. “Do you think you and Noah will have a baby together?” “Uh… probably, yes. Eventually.” At least one baby. Hopefully not three. Definitely not more than three, although part of me thinks Noah would be thrilled if I said, “Hey, let’s have eight kids!” “Will Noah be the dad of the baby?” “Yes, he will.” She screws up her little face. “But that’s not fair! Then he’ll like the baby better than me!” And then she starts to cry. “Oh, Lily…” I scooch over across the sofa and put my arm around her skinny shoulders. “We’ll love you equally to the baby. I promise. A baby will just make our family bigger, with more love.” Her lower lip trembles. “Also, we’re not going to have a baby for a long time. So don’t worry about it, okay?” Lily reluctantly accepts this answer. She snuggles up against me, and I read the book to her five times as we cuddle together. She seems so confident about everything—it never occurs to me that she might worry about being loved less than a baby that doesn’t even exist yet. Anyway, Lily won the lottery for stepdads. Too bad she lost bigtime for dads.      

Chapter 18: Noah   I eye Theo warily. As usual, he’s dressed like an aging rocker, with his white button-up shirt that has one more button undone than it ought to, paired with ripped blue jeans. His hair is long and scraggly. There’s an angry red scar on his forehead from where he got stitched up in the ER the other night. The best part is the leather boots. Leather boots. On a forty-year-old man. What is he thinking? I don’t know what he wants to talk about, but I’m not interested. At least he doesn’t look like he wants to fight me. I took him down once, but I’m really wiped now. He might be able to get the better of me now. But probably not. This guy’s never even seen the inside of a gym. “Whatever you have to say,” I say wearily, “talk to Bailey.” “I can’t.” Theo wrings his fists together. “I need to talk to you.” “Well, I’m busy.” “It’ll be five minutes.” “Sorry.” “Please, Noah.” His voice trembles. “It’s important. It’s about Lily.” I sigh. “What about Lily?” He looks around us, at the dimly lit Manhattan street. “Could we go somewhere to talk?” This doesn’t sound like it’s going to be quick. But there’s nothing threatening in his tone, and he’s piqued my curiosity. Maybe he’s decided he can’t be there for Lily anymore, and he’s open to the idea of letting me adopt her. “Okay.” “There’s a bar three blocks down.” Three blocks. My right leg throbs. Too far. “There’s a diner across the street.” “But wouldn’t a bar be—” “Take it or leave it.” His cheeks turn pink for a moment, but the color quickly fades. “Okay, fine.” I’m trying my best not to limp too badly as we cross the street to get to the diner. It’s stupid, but I don’t want Theo to see it. I don’t want to look

weak in front of him. I don’t want him to think he has any shot of getting Bailey back. When we get to the diner, I just get some water and Theo orders a coffee, even though he’s clearly itching for a beer. Another good reason to avoid the bar. I want him to be sober. As the waitress goes off to get the coffee, I whip out my cell phone to send a text. “Who are you texting?” Theo asks. “Bailey?” “I’m letting her know I’ll be a little late.” He snorts. “Christ, she’s really got you whipped.” “It’s called considerate.” “Is that what you tell yourself?” I send off the text and shove my phone back in my pocket. “What’s this about, Duncan? You told me this involves Lily. You come here to criticize me and waste my time or you got something important to say?” He blinks a few times in surprise. His gaze drops down at the table, at his slender fingers. He has the fingers of a musician—something I’d imagine Bailey liked about him. “You were right.” I’m stunned. That’s the last thing I expected him to say. “Right about what?” “About me.” He plays with his napkin. “That I’m a loser. That Lily won’t respect me if I don’t clean myself up.” Wow. “Well, I’m glad you listened.” He takes a deep breath. “I lost my job.” I frown at him. “You…” “That night I showed up in the ER.” He touches the scar on his forehead. “You were right. I was drinking and I got into a fight. My boss canned me.” He tears a slit in the napkin he’s been playing with. “It was so stupid. This guy was making fun of me. Saying I was a loser because I was a forty-year-old bartender. I’m not even forty. I’m only thirty-eight.” Theo looks older than forty. That’s the result of years of smoking and drinking and drugs. If I saw him in the ER and didn’t know, I would have guessed forty-five. But I’m not going to kick the guy when he’s down. “So now I don’t even know how I’m going to pay my rent,” he says, “much less give Bailey her check.” My cheeks burn. So that’s what this is about. He doesn’t want to pay Bailey child support anymore. Or alimony.

“You know what,” I say. “You can keep your goddamn money. I’ll support Bailey and Lily. Bailey and I are getting married really soon anyway.” His eyes fly open. “Really soon?” I shrug. “It isn’t any of your business, actually.” “Look,” he says quickly, “that wasn’t what I meant. I didn’t come here to talk to you about money. I wanted to talk to you because… I need help.” “From me?” “Yeah, I…” He heaves a deep breath. “I don’t have a job. Nothing. And my employer called all the local bars and they’ve blackballed me. So I was hoping…” I stare at him. “Hoping what?” “Maybe you could get me a job at the hospital?” My mouth falls open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “Please, Noah.” His voice cracks. “I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. I have no money in the bank, and I’m behind a month on my rent. I want to have a decent job so Lily isn’t ashamed of me. I mean, what’ll she think if her dad is out on the street?” I don’t know what to say. For Lily’s sake, Theo needs a steady job. I don’t know how we’d explain it to her if his life fell apart completely. She deserves a father who isn’t a loser. And as much as I wish I were, I’m not her father. And I never will be. “Please, Noah,” he says again. “I see how much everyone respects you at the hospital—if you asked around, I’m sure there would be a job for me. I work hard, I learn quick… I wouldn’t embarrass you. I swear.” “Shit,” I breathe. I don’t want to help him. Every fiber of my being is crying out that this is a mistake. But what the hell am I supposed to do? This is Lily’s dad. Theo is a part of our lives, whether I like it or not. It’s better for everyone if we’re on good terms. Hell, maybe we could even be friends. No. Probably not. “All right,” I say slowly. “I’ll put in a good word for you, but only on three conditions.” He nods. “I’m listening.” “First…” I hold up a finger. “You quit disappointing Lily. If you say you’re showing up at three, you fucking show up at three. You got it?”

He nods. “Yeah. You’re right—I’ve been a shit. I won’t do that anymore.” “Two…” I hold up a second finger. “I don’t want to hear you’re giving Bailey a hard time about the wedding.” “I haven’t—” “Please.” I shake my head. “I’m not a moron. I know what you’re doing. Stop. Now. Bailey and I are getting married, whether you like it or not.” “Okay,” he mumbles. “Sorry about that.” “Don’t be sorry. Just stop.” “Right. Okay.” “And finally,” I say. “You get a goddamn haircut. I’m not recommending you to anyone unless you clean yourself up.” Theo opens his mouth as if to protest, but then he shuts it just as fast. “Okay, Walsh,” he says. “You got a deal.”          

Chapter 19: Bailey   Tonight my father and Gwen have invited me, Noah, and Lily over for dinner. It’s sometimes weird that Noah’s mother is married to my father. Technically, that makes us stepsiblings, although obviously, we’re not actually related. We were dating before our parents were. Still, if I wanted to confide in my father about Noah, I couldn’t do it, because he’s my father’s wife’s son. Not that I’d want to tell my father anything about the guy I’m living with. That’s not the kind of relationship me and my father have. The best thing about our arrangement, however, is that I never have to visit the in-laws. Because my one future in-law lives with my father. And Noah’s mom Gwen won’t be a bad mother-in-law. She’s pretty nice and not too intrusive. But I’ve heard that once we have kids, that could all change. We’ll see. Gwen has cooked spaghetti and meatballs that Lily is happily shoveling into her mouth. My daughter is the pickiest eater ever, but she likes Gwen’s cooking. Gwen could make just about anything, and Lily would gobble it up. She could serve Lily dirty shoes. Horse manure. Chicken nuggets that aren’t shaped like dinosaurs. Anything. “I like your cooking, Grandma Gwen,” Lily announces as she takes a thoughtful bite of a meatball. “You make good meatballs.” Gwen beams. “Why, thank you, Lily.” Gwen lights up every time Lily calls her “grandma”—it’s sweet. Gwen has only one child, and up until last year, no prospects for grandkids in the near future. But it looks like that’s all changing now. “It’s very good,” I chime in, because I want to suck up to Gwen too. But I don’t think I’d ever be able to call her “mom” or anything like that. I had one mother, and cancer took her from me. Prior to dating Noah, I’d been downright emaciated because I was too depressed to eat much, and decent food wasn’t exactly in my budget. But in the last year, I’ve packed on ten pounds. It’s probably to my benefit, but it means I can’t shovel in a plate of guilt-free spaghetti anymore. “How is work going?” Gwen asks Noah. “You look tired.”

He shoots his mother a look. “I’m fine.” I suspect she’s responding to the fact that he was limping again when he walked into their apartment with me. He swore to me he made a doctor’s appointment but he won’t tell me when it is. So there’s a fifty-fifty chance he never actually made the appointment. “Have you saved any lives lately?” Dad asks. He always says that to Noah. He thinks it’s clever. Noah smiles thinly. “Just a few. The usual.” And then my father says the other thing he always says when Noah visits: “Do you think you could take a look at my elbow? It’s been acting up.” It’s not always his elbow. Sometimes it’s his knee. Sometimes it’s his hip. Sometimes he wants Noah to check his blood pressure. Usually Noah is a good sport about the whole thing—he thinks it’s funny, actually. But I can tell Noah isn’t in the mood tonight. This pain in his leg has been dragging down his mood—he used to like to go out more, but now he just wants to stay in most nights. “Sure,” Noah says. “I’d be happy to take a look.” “Also…” Gwen lowers her voice a few notches. “Have you given any more thought to… you know, what we talked about?” Noah’s eyes widen. I have no idea what she’s referring to, but I have a feeling it’s something that shouldn’t have been brought up around the dinner table. “No,” Noah says flatly. “I haven’t.” “But, Noah—” “No.” And that’s all he’s willing to say on the matter. I’m dying of curiosity for the rest of the evening. I hint at it a couple of times when nobody else seems to be listening, but he doesn’t take the bait. I have no clue what Gwen wanted him to do, but it’s clearly something unpleasant. It isn’t until we’re driving home later that evening and Lily is passed out in her booster seat in the back that I can’t wait anymore. I have to ask. “What does your mom want you to do?” Noah adjusts the volume on the music blasting through the 4Runner so that it’s several notches louder while we’re stopped at a light. “Nothing.” “It didn’t sound like nothing.”

“Believe me. It’s nothing. Nothing I’d ever do.” Wow. If he’s trying to kill my curiosity, he’s not succeeding. “Why can’t you tell me?” Noah gives me a look. Finally, he lets out a long sigh. “She wants me to call my father.” “Your father?” “Apparently, he had a heart attack.” “Oh.” He shakes his head. “I’m not going to do it. No chance.” “But…” I look at his profile in the dim light of the car. His jaw is rigid. “He’s your dad.” “Just genetically.” “He lived with you for ten years.” “I’d have been better off if he didn’t!” A vein pulses in his temple. “The best thing he ever did was take off on us. He disappointed me again and again and again.” He glances down at his legs. “After my accident, he didn’t even bother to come see me. Didn’t even care.” “Maybe he didn’t know about it.” “If he cared, he would have known.” He hits the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “I mean, shit—I almost died. I was in the hospital for months. He didn’t come see me once. I didn’t even get a phone call. ‘Hey, Noah, glad you’re still alive.’ That would have been nice.” I don’t know what to say to that. He’s got a good point. “No, fuck him.” He grits his teeth. “He was never there when I needed him. And now he wants to see me? Fuck him.” I glance back at Lily, making sure she’s asleep. Noah doesn’t swear much and is careful to never swear in front of Lily, but he’s really pissed off right now. I haven’t seen him this upset in a long time. “What if he dies?” I say. “It wouldn’t mean anything to me.” I wonder if he means that. Part of the reason he’s so furious at his dad was because he did mean so much to him when he was a kid. And that’s why he gets so angry at Theo, for treating Lily the way his father treated him. I just worry that there will be a time when Noah will regret not going to see his father. And by then, it will be too late.  

   

Chapter 20: Noah   It took me two weeks to get this appointment, but I’m keeping my promise to Bailey: I’m seeing the doctor for my goddamn aching right leg. I fucking hate doctors’ offices. It’s ironic, considering I am a doctor. But there’s a difference between enjoying the job I do and enjoying it when I’m sitting in the examining room, getting told bad news. I’ve gotten a lot of bad news from doctors. A lot. I’m not sure I can imagine anything good the doctor is going to tell me today. Dr. Gerstman has a weekly clinic where he sees amputees. I’ve been going to see him since I got out of the hospital. Sometimes if I need a quick adjustment, I can go straight to the prosthetist, but I’ve already had some adjustments without improvement in my pain, so I need Dr. Gerstman. If I need an entirely new socket, he’s got to make that call and write the prescription. If there’s something else going on, he’ll figure that out too. I’m the youngest person in the waiting room. Most amputations are from complications of diabetes or vascular disease, which are more common in the elderly. There’s a guy in the corner of the room who’s maybe in his seventies with gray skin that I associate with smokers. He’s sitting in a wheelchair and he’s got a shrinker sock on what’s left of his right leg, which was amputated below the knee. In six months, that guy will be walking better than I do. “Noah?” I look up at the pretty young nurse calling out my name. I use the armrests of my seat to push myself into a standing position, then limp after her in the direction of the examining room. I stayed off my prosthetics all day yesterday, but when I put them on this morning, the pain was there like it never left me. I sit down in one of the chairs in the examining room. They don’t have an examining table in the room. That would be a joke. “Dr. Gerstman will be right with you,” the nurse tells me. “Thanks,” I mumble.

She glances down at my legs. I don’t know if she’s seen my chart and knows the extent of my injury. If she doesn’t, I bet she’s curious. What is a guy in his thirties doing with two missing legs? I don’t blame her for wondering. When I first heard the name Dr. Isaac Gerstman, I’d be picturing an old man with a white beard and wise eyes. But when I first met Dr. Gerstman, he was about the age I am now. Like me, I bet all his elderly female patients try to set him up with their daughters and granddaughters. What I like best about him is his sense of humor—on one occasion, he came into the examining room with a machine that made fart noises in his back pocket. Dr. Gerstman doesn’t have the fart machine today, but he has a big grin on his face when he walks into the room. “Noah! My favorite patient! What’s going on?” It’s hard not to return the smile even though I feel like shit. Fart noises would help right now. “My right leg is killing me,” I admit. “It hurts every time I try to walk on it.” “How about when you’re not walking on it?” “Still sort of hurts, but not nearly as bad.” “Does it feel like when you had the neuroma?” I shake my head no. About a year after my amputation, when I was finally doing well at school and had some friends again, I developed a lot of pain in my right limb. It hurt all the time—it made it hard to even sleep. It turned out the severed nerve endings turned into this painful lump called a neuroma. I had to get the damn thing surgically removed. Not how I wanted to spend Christmas break during my second year of med school. “So what do you think is going on, Dr. Walsh?” he asks. He says it a little bit teasing, because the guy has known me since I was a twenty-threeyear-old med student, but I know he also respects my opinions. When I was debating about what specialty I wanted to do, he did his damnedest to talk me into his own field. But I would have missed the adrenaline rush. “I think the socket isn’t fitting well,” I say. “I see a couple of red spots. I had the prosthetists make some adjustments, but it’s not enough. My right side is sensitive.” Dr. Gerstman nods. “All right, Noah. Let’s have a look.” He has me walk across the room a couple of times. Then I strip off both my legs and let him look at both the sockets and my stumps. They’re both

just barely longer than my boxer shorts—they wanted to leave me with enough of my femurs to be able to fit prosthetics. But what I really wish is that I’d been able to keep at least one of my knees. I’d have a lot more stability if I had even one knee to work with. It sucks, but what can you do? “I agree with you, Noah,” Dr. Gerstman proclaims after he’s done palpating my legs. “I’m going to write a prescription for a new socket—I think this one has gotten too small. You gaining weight?” I grin crookedly. “Well, I did get engaged. So maybe I’m letting myself go a little.” “Engaged?” He takes a step back. “Well, that’s new! Mazel tov!” “Thanks.” He looks down at me thoughtfully. “So the next thing I’m going to tell you, you’re not going to like. But I’ve got to say it.” “Okay…” “I think you need to stay off your prosthetics for a couple of weeks.” I suck in a breath. “Off… completely?” He nods. “Yeah. I’m telling you to stick them in a closet for two weeks and pretend they don’t exist.” I rub the ends of my legs. For several years after my amputations, I got phantom sensations in my legs. It felt like they were still there even though they weren’t. I could literally feel like I was moving my foot, even though I wasn’t (obviously). Sometimes I’d get cramps in my calf, even though I had no calves to speak of. But that eventually went away. I don’t remember what it feels like to move my feet. That sensation has vanished from my brain. “I hate doing ER shifts in my chair,” I say. “Patients always look so shocked. And it’s a whole conversation.” “You think I don’t know?” he snorts. There was a bitter moment soon after my injury when I accused Dr. Gerstman of not knowing what I was going through. That’s when he lifted up his pants leg and showed me he knew better than I thought. “I’ll do it,” I mutter. “It just sucks.” “I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think it was important.” I nod. “I know.” Dr. Gerstman rests a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Good. And next time you come, bring your gorgeous fiancée. I want a crack at her.”

“Only if you bring the fart noise machine.” He grins at me. “You want me to lend you one for the ER?” “Maybe next time.” I’m smiling when I leave his office, but the second I get to my car, my mood deflates. Two weeks without my prosthetics. Could be worse. Could be a lifetime. But it’s the last thing I want in the months leading the wedding.      

Chapter 21: Bailey   It’s not that I don’t get frustrated by Theo being late picking up Lily all the time. I do. Of course I do. But part of the reason Noah gets so angry when Theo is late is he doesn’t expect it. If you just assume Theo’s going to be an hour late, it comes as no surprise when it happens. You can plan around it. Today I take Lily straight to the playground by Theo’s apartment and let her play there while I mess around on my phone, waiting to hear back from Noah. He finally got in to see his doctor today, and I’m terrified to hear what he’s got to say. I mean, it’s not life or death. But it’s hard to see the man you love in pain every time he takes a step. Finally, a text appears on the screen: Just got out of appointment. So???????? He says he thinks it’s the socket. Will get a new one. Okay, that’s not so bad. Also, he wants me to stay off my prosthetics for two weeks. I wince. Noah must hate that. But I agree with the doctor. One of the first things he told me when we reconnected was that he couldn’t be on the prosthetics too much, but he’s on them all the time these days. Could be worse, I write. Yeah. I guess. All right, he’s upset. But we’ll have the apartment to ourselves tonight, and I’ll work on making him feel better. I’m pretty good at that. There are a good number of kids and parents at the playground today, so Lily is having a great time. She’s so social—I don’t know where it comes from. Certainly not me. I glance around, wondering if I should try to make conversation with another friendly-looking parent. There’s a woman in leggings and a hoodie sweatshirt who looks nice enough, although she’s got a baby carriage that seems to be occupying her attention. There’s another woman with a cute blond bob across the playground who seems friendly, although she’s talking on her phone. And then I notice the guy. He’s a father, I assume. Maybe in his early forties. He’s got this sexy, lanky look, and he’s rocking the shaved head look with a bit of a goatee, a white T-shirt, and blue jeans hanging low on his waist. He reminds me of

Chris Daughtry. Noah is objectively really hot, but I always had a thing for more lean and lanky guys. The guy turns his head and catches me looking at him. And then? He winks at me. My face burns. I can’t believe I got caught out staring at some random dad at the playground. But at least he seems appreciative of my attention. That’s an ego boost. And here comes the creepy part: The guy walks right up to Lily. And then he starts talking to her. What the hell? Why is she talking to him? Didn’t she learn anything in that stranger danger unit they did last year? She’s supposed to be yelling “help” and “I don’t know you!” Instead, she reaches out and takes his hand. Seriously, Lily? I grab my purse and race across the playground before this man can load my daughter into the back of his van to get candy. It isn’t until I reach the monkey bars that I realize with a jolt that Lily hasn’t done anything wrong. This sexy stranger with the shaved head is Theo. Holy crap. “Theo,” I gasp as I get within earshot. “Hey.” He looks up at me and smiles again. I can’t even believe how good he looks with his head shaved. He’d resisted doing it for so long, I assumed he knew something I didn’t. But no—I was right when I told him to shave it all off. Wow. He looks… God, what’s wrong with me? Quit staring, Bailey. “Hey yourself,” he says. “You, uh…” My mouth feels suddenly dry as I come to a halt next to him. “You…” “Daddy shaved his head!” Lily pipes up. “Now he looks like Elmer Fudd!” Theo smiles crookedly. “What you think, Bailey? Do I look like a cue ball?” “Not at all,” I say quickly. “It’s actually… it looks… good.” “Glad you think so.” He flashes me a grin, and I realize I haven’t seen him look at me that way in a long time. Theo’s made a lot of attempts to win me back since our divorce, but most of those attempts involved whining and demanding. This time he’s actually being… smooth.

Not that he think he’s trying to win me back. I don’t. Well, I suppose he could be. But he has zero chance of that. “I was on time,” he says. I blink a few times. “Huh?” His grin widens. “I wasn’t late getting to the park. I got here at the exact time I said I would.” So what does he want—a medal? But he’s right. He’s usually late, and this time he isn’t. Maybe this means Theo is turning over a new leaf for real this time. “Well,” I say, “I guess I’ll head out now.” I start to turn, but then Theo says, “Hey.” “Oh.” I clear my throat. “Lily’s backpack is over there.” “No, I, uh…” He lifts his eyes. “I was thinking maybe you could stick around a bit. Do you really have to rush off?” “Noah is on his way home.” “So?” He lifts an eyebrow. “He’s a big boy, isn’t he? He can be alone for an hour by himself.” He’s right. And furthermore, I never told Noah I was leaving the park, so he has no clue when I’m supposed to be home. But something doesn’t feel right about this. Noah and I are getting married. He wouldn’t be cool with my hanging out at the park with Theo for an hour. He would never consider doing anything like that to me. “Sorry,” I say. “I have to go.” I expect Theo’s face to turn pink and for him to throw a very Theo-like tantrum. But instead, he shocks me by shrugging one shoulder. “Okay, maybe another time.” Is it possible someone could grow up at age thirty-eight?    

Chapter 22: Noah   The full impact of how miserable it’s going to be to be stuck using my wheelchair at work for the next two weeks doesn’t hit me until my shift the next day. You know how I said that old women almost without exception comment on my looks and want to set me up with a family member? Well, on days when I’m working in my chair, they always always want to know why. Some patients manage to keep their mouths shut, but anyone over the age of seventy or under the age of ten is going to ask. Guaranteed. Of course, they know why I’m in a wheelchair. That’s really obvious. This morning when I left for my shift, I tucked my scrub legs under my stumps so they wouldn’t be in the way, but my appearance gives no doubt as to the reason I can’t walk. But they want to know what happened. How did a young guy end up with no legs? My current patient, Mrs. Reilly, who slipped in her kitchen and hurt her wrist a few hours ago, is no exception to this rule. “Oh my God, Doctor! What happened to you?” she cries when I wheel into the room. “Car accident,” I explain, hoping there won’t be any follow-up questions. But knowing there will be. “Oh, gosh.” She looks down at her wrist, which she’s cradling in her other hand. “I feel bad, Doctor. I’m here in the ER, but you look like you’re in worse shape than I am.” I force a smile. “Believe me, I’m fine. Can I take a look at your wrist?” “Well, if you feel up to it.” “I do. I really do.” And then I have to figure out how to get close enough to her to actually examine her. Because the exam rooms are tiny, and there’s usually only enough room for my chair on one side or the other. Twice on this shift I’ve had to grab a nurse to help me move furniture so I could get to the patient. I hate feeling like a liability. Dr. Kagin, who is doing the shift with me, doesn’t need this kind of help. He’s bouncing from room to room, seeing patients twice as fast as I am. When he needs the ultrasound machine, he

doesn’t need to ask a nurse to put it in the room for him. He finds the machine and drags it in there himself. But this is the situation. I deal with it. I spritz my hands with the hand sanitizer I keep in my scrub top pocket, because I don’t want to touch the pushrims of my wheels and then touch the patient. Fortunately, I’m able to get close enough to Mrs. Reilly, and the lack of height doesn’t matter much when I’m looking at someone’s wrist. I immediately suspect a distal radius fracture based on her exam and the mechanism of her fall. “We’re going to get an X-ray of your wrist. Okay, Mrs. Reilly?” I say. “I’ll order it right now.” “Oh, that’s okay,” she says quickly. “Don’t bother yourself. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” “Mrs. Reilly,” I say with as much patience as I can muster. “I think you may have a fracture of one of the bones in your forearm. We have to get an X-ray. That’s the only way to see it.” “Well, all right,” she agrees, although she doesn’t look particularly happy about it. “I guess that’s okay.” “Great. I’ll order the X-ray.” Her white eyebrows knit together. “Wait… Dr. Walsh?” “Yes?” “I’ve heard that there are computerized legs people can use. Maybe that’s something you could look into?” I smile as patiently as I can manage, given the ER waiting room was packed to the brim last time I was out there. “I’ll do that.” “What sort of person would you go to for that anyway?” I glance behind me. That’s another thing about being in the chair—I can’t easily back out of the room. A classic move for any doctor trapped by a talkative patient is to sloooowwly back out of the room. Not so easy when you’re in a chair. So that’s why it takes me another five minutes to escape from Mrs. Reilly’s room, as she pummels me with questions and suggestions about my legs. Five minutes may not seem long to most people, but it’s an eternity in a packed ER. As soon as I get out of the room, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see a text message from Bailey: You forgot to bring your dinner.

Damn it. Even though I shouldn’t, I click on Bailey’s number and she picks up after half a ring. “I swear,” I say, “it’s no reflection on your cooking. I’m distracted.” “I know.” I can almost hear her smiling. “I would offer to bring it to you, but Lily is vegged out on the couch in her jammies.” “Yeah…‘Lily’ is in her jammies.” “Fine! I’m wearing jammies too! Is that so wrong?” “No.” It’s not wrong, it’s tempting. Bailey in her jammies, cuddled on the sofa. “Anyway, I’ll grab something from the food truck.” “Hey, what about your cholesterol?” “Yeah…” I look down at my legs. Right now, my cholesterol is the least of my problems. “I have to be honest. I feel like something deep fried right now.” “Okay. Well, just don’t eat anything I wouldn’t eat.” “Will do.” I grip the phone more tightly in my palm. “Love you.” “Love you too.” I let out a long breath as we hang up. As much as I love my job, I wish I were back home with Bailey, cuddled up with her on the sofa. Doing late night shifts never felt like a big deal back when I was single. Or even when I wasn’t. But now that I’m living with Bailey, I just want to be home every night, and I’m wondering why I didn’t become a dermatologist. “Hey, Noah.” Tom Kagin materializes behind me, just as I’m shoving my phone back in my pocket. He’s seen twice as many patients as I have tonight—I’ve got to pick up the pace. “You doing okay?” I don’t appreciate the patronizing tone, but what can I do? “Just fine.” He nods and rubs his belly, which is straining at the limits of his blue scrub top. “We got a multitrauma patient on the way over. Car accident. I better take it. From what I heard, her O2 sats are lousy. We might need to intubate.” I grit my teeth. “I can intubate.” “Yeah?” He looks skeptical. Granted, it’s harder to do it in the chair, but I can manage. I’ve practiced. I can’t work here if I’m not capable of intubating a patient. “Well, if you want it…” “No, it’s fine.” “Yeah, I think it’s for the best.

As he walks away whistling, I want to toss my reflex hammer at his back. It kills me to think I might not be as good a doctor because I’m in my chair. Especially when the chances of this being permanent in the next decade are far from zero. I need to learn to get faster. I wheel myself to the computer, quickly reading up on a few more patients, hoping to go quickly from room to room. I’m too young for my body to be holding me back this much. It’s hard not to imagine what might have been if I hadn’t lost control of the car on that black ice. If I had listened to Bailey when she said she was worried about my driving out to see her… I’d be a surgeon now. Bailey and I would have gotten married after I graduated medical school. We’d have a child together. Maybe two. And I wouldn’t be in this chair. “Hey, Doc.” Claire settles into the seat next to me. Her scrubs look freshly pressed but there are slight dark circles around her eyes. She’s been here as long as I have. Longer. “You going to want an LP kit in the room for Eight?” “You read my mind. Thanks, Claire.” “Also,” she adds, “Kagin is an idiot. I’ve seen you run traumas in your chair and you’re great at it.” “Well, thanks.” She grins at me. “And I have some good news for you. Kaitlin has a new crush. So you’re officially off the hook.” “That’s a relief.” I return the grin. “It isn’t Kagin, is it?” “God, no. He’s vile.” I laugh. “So who’s the lucky guy?” “This new orderly who started yesterday. All the nurses and aides are salivating over him. It’s disgusting.” I snort. The last orderly all the women were tripping themselves over was this Latino guy whose muscles stretched the sleeves of his scrub top. And at the end of his shift—I kid you not—he’d break out his guitar and play some tunes for the ER. Most of the female staff couldn’t say a word to him without turning beet red.

Claire was the only one who was immune to Enrique’s charms. But she wasn’t immune to mine. “Don’t worry, Doc,” she says. “You’re way hotter than that orderly.” “Believe me, that’s the last thing I’m worried about. You think I’m looking to be the hottest guy working in the ER? You think that’s what I want?” “Whether you want it or not, you usually are. At least ten percent of the repeat customers we get here are young women hoping to see ‘Dr. McHottie’ again.” I roll my eyes. Even though it might be the tiniest bit true. “So where’s this hot orderly?” I ask. “I gotta see what my competition looks like.” “You’re in luck, Doc.” Claire rises out of her seat and smooths out the wrinkles on her scrubs from sitting. “He just got done transporting your patient in Six back from the CT scanner. You can go have a look.” I grab my right wheel to pivot my chair. I’m not actually all that curious, but it’s good to know the new staff down here. Besides, I’ve got to see the patient in Seven anyway, so I’m headed in that direction. I’ve gotten nearly to Room Seven when I see the orderly emerge from Six. I see right away what the women like about him. He’s got a swagger when he walks, even though he doesn’t fill out his scrubs as well as Enrique did. His shaved head and goatee makes him look like the kind of guy who certain girls might salivate over. Maybe. What do I know? “I got you coffee from the food truck!” I jerk my head around and see Kaitlin rushing toward me. My shoulders tense, but then she brushes right past me and makes a beeline for the new orderly. “I wanted to make sure you got it while it was still hot.” The orderly flashes his teeth at her. “Thanks, doll. I appreciate that.” Doll. Someone needs to have a word with him about how to address the nurses respectfully. Except Kaitlin doesn’t mind at all. She’s all giggles and pink cheeks. “No problem, Theo.” Wait. Theo? And then the orderly raises his hand in the air. His eyes meet mine and I get a flood of recognition. “Oh, hey, Noah. What’s up?” Shit.

       

Chapter 23: Bailey   I can’t sleep anymore without Noah next to me. It’s ironic because for years, I slept alone. When Theo and I were married, he was always off somewhere at night, then when he finally got home, he’d just crash on the sofa half the time. Then after we got divorced, Lily ended up in my bed a lot, but she eventually decided that “big girls sleep in their own beds.” I felt sad about that one. I know a lot of parents try to discourage their kids from sleeping in the bed with them, but I loved having Lily’s tiny warm body snuggled up against me at night. So it’s not like I’m someone who has no experience sleeping alone. But somehow, in a relatively short period of time, I’ve gotten used to Noah sleeping beside me. I love having the reassuring mass of his body next to me, watching the rise and fall of his chest with each deep breath. I love when he pulls me into a spoon while he’s half-asleep. I missed spooning— Theo hated it. Noah loves it as much as I do though, even though he’d never say as much. The times when he’s stuck in the ER overnight, I toss and turn. I need him next to me. Half the time, I end up getting out of bed and watching reruns on TV. Tonight he’s supposed to be home at midnight, although I know the fact that he’s not on his feet might slow him down. So I’m sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket and watching TV, trying not to be concerned that it’s half past midnight and he’s still not home. But yes, I’m worried. You get one call telling you that your boyfriend has been in a horrible accident, and it’s enough to last a lifetime. My phone buzzes on the coffee table. I snatch it up, expecting to see a message from Noah that he’s running late. Except it isn’t Noah. It’s Theo. You up? My fingers linger over the touchscreen. I shouldn’t answer him. Nothing good ever came of a conversation with an ex after midnight. But against my better judgment, I write back: Yes. Instantly, the phone starts ringing. I stare at it, not sure what to do. I shouldn’t answer it. Nothing good ever comes out of a conversation with an

ex after midnight. Damn it. “Theo, it’s really late,” I sigh. “Hello to you too, Bailey.” “I’m sorry, but it’s been a long day. I’m tired.” “Are you alone?” I pull the phone away from my ear and frown at it. “No, of course I’m not.” “No, I mean, is your fiancé around?” “He…” I glance behind me at the door. “He’s going to be home any minute.” “Great.” He clears his throat. “Let’s meet tomorrow for drinks. I need to talk to you.” “Theo,” I say patiently. “I am not meeting you for drinks.” “Why not?” “Do I really have to explain it?” “I need to talk to you,” he says again. “It’s about Lily. Please. Give me fifteen minutes.” For some reason, my bullshit detector is going off. He wants to talk to me about Lily? I can’t fathom such a thing. I’m sure Theo loves Lily in his own way, but he has zero interest in her. When she was a baby and I’d try to relay cute things she’d done that day, he’d always say, “This is so boring. Can’t we talk about something else?” When I tried to talk to him about Mrs. Babcock’s concerns about Lily’s reading ability, he just told me in a vague way that I “need to take care of it.” I try to imagine Theo sitting down with Lily and having her read to him, like Noah has been doing diligently every day since that fateful parentteacher conference. I can’t do it. “I’m busy tomorrow,” I say. “You can’t spare fifteen minutes?” “No, I can’t,” I snip at him. “Bailey, come on. Fifteen minutes, any time you say. I’ll pick you up in front of your office building.” The key turns in the lock to the front door. Noah. The last thing I want when he’s coming home from a long ER shift is to catch me on the phone with my ex-husband. “Fine,” I hiss. “Two o’clock. Don’t be late.”

The second the words leave my mouth, I already regret them. But it’s too late. I manage to hang up the phone just as the front door swings open. Noah looks really tired when he wheels himself into the living room. He’s still sexy as all hell, but there’s purple under his eyes. He spots me on the couch and smiles crookedly. “You didn’t have to wait up.” “I can’t sleep without you.” I pat the cushion next to me on the sofa. “Join me?” “What are we watching?” “Big Bang Theory.” He rolls over to the couch and transfers himself to the seat next to me in one swift motion, making sure the loose ends of his pants stay tucked under him. He winces slightly during the transfer. I wonder if his legs are still hurting. Or maybe his back—he says it always aches after a full day in the chair. Or maybe I shouldn’t ask. Except I can’t help myself. “How are you feeling?” He shrugs. “I’m fine.” “The pain is better?” He gives me a look. “I said I’m fine.” He doesn’t want to talk about it. That shouldn’t be a surprise. Not only does Noah have a thing about not taking pain meds, but he also has a thing about not ever letting on how much he’s hurting. “Was work awful?” I ask. He tugs at the collar of his scrub top. “Uh… work was okay, but…” I narrow my eyes at him. “But what?” He slumps down on the sofa. “Well, for starters, your ex-husband is an orderly at our ER.” “He what?” I shake my head. “How did that happen?” He averts his eyes, looking down at the bunched up legs of his scrub pants. “Well, I sort of… I got him the job.” “You what?” “I wasn’t going to tell you.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Theo came to me a couple of weeks ago because he lost his job bartending, and he asked if I could help him out. For Lily’s sake. So… I went to HR, talked the guy up, and…” He grimaces. “I told them to put him anywhere but the ER. Anywhere else. So where do they put him?” He shudders. “Jesus.” “So you have to work with him?”

He flips his hand back and forth. “Sometimes. I mean, it’s a big ER. And there are a lot of shifts. I won’t see him much. But… I’m not thrilled about it.” I don’t know how to feel either. Noah and Theo working together? That leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Especially considering my plans tomorrow with Theo. Let’s meet tomorrow for drinks. I need to talk to you. That was a mistake. I never should have agreed. I’m going to call Theo up to cancel. Except what if it’s something important about Lily? “Anyway, the last thing I want to do right now is talk about Theo.” He yawns and stretches out his arms on the sofa. “I’ve been waiting to see you my whole shift.” “What about me? I couldn’t even sleep without you!” I start to cuddle up close to him, but then pause. “Before I get too comfy, do you want anything?” He grins sleepily at me. “You.” I roll my eyes. “I meant to eat.” “Yeah, you,” he breathes in my ear. Tingles go down my neck as he nibbles on my earlobe, but then he has to stop to yawn again. “Christ, I’m sorry about that, Bailey. It’s been a long day.” “I’m tired too,” I admit. “How about we watch the rest of this episode, then turn in?” “Yeah, but I hate this show.” I gasp and clutch my chest. “How could you hate it?” “I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem very believable that a guy obsessed with video games and binge-watching sci-fi shows and dressing up as Star Wars characters could have a successful career as a theoretical physicist.” I arch an eyebrow at him. “But,” he says, “I’ll watch it because you like it.” So we do. We watch about half an episode of The Big Bang Theory, but before it’s over, I pass out in his arms.        

Chapter 24: Noah   Bailey had to work late today so I told her I’d grab Lily at her afterschool program. I’d picked her up there a dozen times before, maybe more, but this was the first time I ever picked her up in a wheelchair. It was… an event. First off, it took me fifteen minutes of circling the building before I found the elusive wheelchair-accessible entrance. And when I got inside, I had to show two forms of ID before they let me go to the first grade classroom to get her. Not that I don’t respect their need for security, but I’d been there before and shown no forms of ID. They just waved me in. I have no clue why my being in the chair made me more threatening. You’d think it would be the opposite. And then in the classroom, all the kids surrounded me and wanted to know what happened to me. A car accident sounded so boring though. “I used to be a lion tamer,” I explained to a solemn-eyed Asian boy. “And one day, the lion just… lost it. He jumped on me and wouldn’t let go of my legs for anything.” All their little jaws were hanging open. One kid had drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Did it hurt?” a sandy-haired boy asked me. “It sure did,” I said. “So that’s why when your parents tell you not to climb into the cages at the zoo, you should listen.” May as well throw a lesson in there. I’m the hero of the afterschool program after that story. Even the teacher seems to be buying it, despite the fact that it’s very clearly fictional. I’ve been an ER doc a while and I’ve seen all sorts of crazy things, but never a lion ripping off someone’s limbs or anything close to that. Last week, we had a guy who got a fidget spinner stuck up his ass, but no major lion injuries. “Noah?” Lily asks as she buckles herself into her car seat. “Uh huh?” “Did you really get your legs eaten off by a lion?” I crane my neck to look back at her. “Lily, you know I was in a car accident. I was just joking around.”

Her face falls. “Oh.” She’s making me wish I did get my legs eaten off by a lion. It would be cool, that’s for sure. “Can we go the yogurt place?” she asks hopefully, lifting her chin in the air. “Uh…” She latches on to my hesitation. “Pleeeease, Noah? Pleeeeeeeease?” So the yogurt place is a frozen yogurt bar that has ten varieties of selfserve frozen yogurt and toppings that make my cholesterol go up just by looking at them. Oreo cookies. Brownie bits. Peanut butter cups. Chocolate chips. Twix pieces. Bailey and I take her there sometimes, and we’ve had to limit her to two toppings, because it was out of control. In any case, this isn’t the healthy yogurt people eat when they’re on a diet or to regulate their bowels. This is most definitely dessert. “We haven’t eaten dinner yet,” I say. Lily looks even more disappointed than she did when I told her my legs weren’t eaten by lions. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease?” “How about this,” I say. “We go get some pizza, and then we’ll get yogurt.” “What about Mommy?” “We’ll bring back pizza for her.” Lily thinks this over. “Okay!” We go to Lily’s favorite pizza place, which has the absolute worst pizza I’ve ever eaten. New York is known for having great pizza (and great bagels) so I’m not sure how Lily found the one pizza place in all of Manhattan that’s awful. Cardboard doesn’t even begin to describe it. I can’t fathom how she likes this shit. “This place is my favorite,” Lily says as she chews happily on a slice of… well, I guess it’s pizza. It’s got a crust, tomato sauce, and cheese. “Yeah,” I say. “Mom and Dad won’t take me here ever,” she says, a tiny crease forming between her brows. “Why not?” “Because they say the pizza tastes bad.” Apparently, I’m the only sucker willing to take her here. Oh well. At least I didn’t give in to that whole dessert-before-dinner deal.

Lily pulls a glob of cheese off her pizza. The way she eats pizza is fascinating. First she pulls off the cheese. Then she licks off the tomato sauce. Then she uses her front teeth to gnaw the soft bread from the burnt crust. “Did you see my dad’s head?” she asks me between bites of cheese. “It’s all bald!” “It sure is,” I say. And I don’t know why I say this next part: “Do you like it?” “No, it’s weird.” She crinkles her nose. “But Mommy likes it.” My stomach turns, although it’s not clear if it’s from what she just said or from the questionable pizza. “She… she does?” Lily nods. “She said to him it looks good. And then her face got really red.” Well, great. Looks like the nurses at work aren’t the only ones salivating over Theo. I push my pizza away. Any appetite I had for this disgusting pizza is gone. I don’t know why I’m so upset though. So Bailey thinks Theo is attractive. No surprise there—she married the guy, after all. That doesn’t undo the fact that he’s an irresponsible loser. I’m not Bailey’s type. I’m plenty of women’s types but not hers. She likes the scrawny artist type. A guy who can draw. Who can stand up in front of a room with a microphone and sing his heart out. I can’t do that. I can place a chest tube in a guy whose lung has collapsed, but I can’t be the artistic type Bailey loves. Back in college, it was something we used to laugh about—that she was marrying a guy who wasn’t even her type. Because I knew she loved me, and it wasn’t like I ever had any trouble with the opposite sex back then. I wouldn’t feel as shitty about it if I could walk right now. “Don’t worry, Noah,” Lily says. “Mom likes you better than Daddy.” I lift my eyes. “Uh… she… did she tell you that?” Lily lifts her pizza to start licking off the tomato sauce. “Uh huh. All the time. Also, you’re nicer than Daddy. He’s always yelling. You never yell.” “I sometimes yell.” She squints at me. “Not too much. Also, you’re smart. Daddy can’t read.”

Man, I would love to let that one go. But I can’t. “Your father can read, Lily.” “Well, that’s what Mommy said when I asked why he doesn’t have any books in his apartment. Also, your apartment is nicer. His is small and has dirty socks all over the floor.” Smart, nice, and has a great apartment. Sounds like a laundry list of characteristics of an unattractive blind date. None of this is making me feel like the better man. “Also,” Lily adds, “you’re way handsomer than Daddy.” I manage a smile. “Gee, thanks.” Lily shrugs because she wasn’t saying it to be nice. Lily doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean just for the sake of being nice. She’s says what she thinks. She won’t purposely be mean, but she doesn’t have much of a filter. I look down at my pizza. Somehow, I still don’t have much of an appetite.        

Chapter 25: Bailey   I don’t cancel on Theo. I started to. I picked up my phone at least a dozen times with the intention of telling him I wouldn’t be able to meet him today. But I didn’t do it. And not because I want to see Theo so badly, but because I know my ex-husband very well. If I cancel on him, he won’t give up. It will make him even more frantic to see me. I’m better off just getting this over with. So at two o’clock the next day, I clock out for a break and head downstairs to meet Theo in front of the building. Even though he was on time at the playground the other day, he can’t manage a repeat performance. By ten past two, I’m so pissed off, I’m ready to kick the nearest lamppost. I know it’s only ten minutes, but on a busy workday, that’s a lot of time. It doesn’t matter if Theo changed his hair—he’s still the same irresponsible guy I married and then divorced. “Bailey!” I turn my head and see him at the end of the block, hurrying toward me. He waves at me. “Hey!” I’m not impressed by his slow jog. Considering how late he is, he should be sprinting. He should be out of breath. “You’re late,” I say flatly. “Sorry, I got held up.” No real explanation. Held up. How many times have I heard that before? “Well, that’s a shame.” I look down at my watch. “I don’t have time for coffee anymore. I used up my whole break standing here, waiting for you.” His face falls. “You can’t spare ten minutes?” I look at my watch again. Either I spend the next five minutes standing here, arguing with him, or I give in and go. Sometimes Theo is much harder to deal with than my headstrong daughter. “Fine,” I say. “Ten minutes. That’s it.” It takes us two minutes to walk to the coffee shop down the block and then another minute or so to be seated. At this point, I’m going to be really late getting back from my break. And this is why Theo can’t hold down a job and needs Noah to find him one.

“So what’s this about?” I ask Theo as we face each other across the booth. He rubs at his bald skull. I don’t take it back—it’s very sexy. But there’s more to a guy than how sexy his scalp is. And overall, Noah is still much hotter. “Something about Lily?” I prompt him. “Oh.” He grins crookedly. “It’s not really about Lily.” What a shocker. “Theo, I have a lot of work to do…” “Listen, Bailey.” He reaches out to take my hand resting on the table, but I yank it away. “Ever since you and Noah got engaged… I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.” He lifts his eyes. “I made a horrible mistake letting you go.” “You didn’t have a choice,” I say through my teeth. “I kicked you out.” “I could have tried harder to keep us together.” He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “I could have fought for you. Why didn’t I fight harder for you? I would have died for you.” For a split-second, I’m touched. But then I realize something. “Those are lyrics to one of your songs.” He blinks a few times. “Huh?” “What you just said. You… you’re quoting a song you wrote.” “Oh.” He smiles sheepishly. “Well, the song was about you.” “You wrote it before we broke up. Try again.” He rubs at his bald head again. “All right, fine. No sappy lyrics. I’m going to be straight with you.” “Good.” He heaves a deep breath. “Bailey, I’ll do anything to get you back. Anything you say.” “It’s too late.” “It can’t be too late.” His eyebrows bunch together. “I gave up my band for you. I shaved off all my hair like you always wanted me to. I got this stupid fucking job as an orderly.” “Noah got you that job.” He ignores me. “I’m trying to show you I’m responsible.” “Good for you.” “Bailey.” His eyes grow slightly damp. Noah always claims Lily is fake-crying, and I wonder if that’s what Theo is doing now. “You’re the love of my life. Noah can’t say that.”

“I’ve known Noah since we were teenagers.” I think back to the night when Noah intercepted the guy forcing himself on me in the hallway of our dorm. He threw that guy against a wall and made sure he never came near me again. “I think he’d disagree.” “But,” Theo says, “he’s not the father of your child.” Of all the things Theo has said to me, this is the only thing that gives me the tiniest bit of pause. It would, I must admit, be very nice to be married to Lily’s father, on a completely theoretical level. Mom, Dad, and Child, all under one roof. Just like the way I grew up. Theo sees my hesitation and quickly plows forward. “And what if you guys have more kids?” he says. “Then Lily will feel left out. Noah won’t treat her the way he’ll treat his own kids.” “That’s not true.” Noah’s been nothing but wonderful to Lily. But then again, Lily expressed her own reservations that she’d be left out if we had more children. Maybe there’s something to it… “Of course it’s true.” Theo shakes his head. “How could he love her as much as he loves his own flesh and blood? He won’t. He can’t. He’ll never love Lily the way you and I do.” I want to protest, but he’s right. As great of an almost-stepfather as Noah has been, he can’t possibly love Lily the way her own parents would. If something ever happened to Lily, I would never recover… but while Noah would surely be sad, he’d move on. Theo is the only person in the world who loves Lily as much as I do. But that’s not enough. Yes, he shares my love for our daughter, but he doesn’t make me happy the way Noah does. And Lily deserves a mom who’s happy. “I’m sorry, Theo,” I say. “I love Noah, and we’re getting married. You’re way too late.” I glance down at my watch. “And now I’ve got to get back to work.” “You’re not even going to stay for a cup of coffee?” I shake my head. “I don’t have time.” Theo gets to his feet as I do. “Fine, Bailey,” he says. “You can walk out that door, but I’m not giving up. Somehow I’m going to win you back.” Yeah, good luck trying.

Chapter 26: Noah   “And-the-little-bear-went-through-the-forest-as-fast-as-his-little-feet-couldtake-him,” Lily recites at rapid-fire speed. “He-wanted-the-honey-morethan-any-thing.” When we first started reading, Lily was going slow as molasses. I’ve got a lot of patience, but she was trying even mine. I use the eraser end of a pencil as a pointer for when she loses her place, but she was losing her place every five seconds. And when I redirected her with the pencil, she would just stare at the word blankly, like she’d never seen it before. Even if the word was “she.” Then I got the idea. I told Lily if she could finish the chapter before her mom got home, she’d get two chips for reading tonight instead of the usual one. And then she took off like a rocket. She really wants that ant farm. Lily finishes off the chapter in record time, and we high-five. “That was amazing, Lil!” I say. “You did a great job.” “That’ll be two chips, please,” Lily says, holding out her palm. Bailey expressed concern that Lily might be stealing chips during the night, and that we should put them up on top of the bookcase. I don’t think Lily would do that though. And on a selfish note, I can’t reach them on top of the bookcase when I’m in my chair. So we compromised and put them in our bedroom. While I’m going to grab the chips from the drawer in our night table, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out and see an unfamiliar number on the screen. I hope it’s not one of those spam callers. I want to put on a call blocker, but after the things I see in the ER, I’d never block all unfamiliar numbers. You never know when tragedy is calling. “Hello?” I say. There’s a long pause on the other line. So long that I’m about hang up when I hear a male voice say, “Noah?” “Uh, yeah.” I frown. “Who’s this?” “Noah…” The man on the other line clears his throat loudly. “Noah, it’s your dad. Michael.”

For a moment, I’m too stunned to speak. I haven’t heard my father’s voice since I was ten years old. The asshole never even called on my birthdays. “How did you get this number?” I say in a low, even voice. “Gwen gave it to me,” he says. “I don’t know if she told you, but I had a—” “Don’t ever call me again,” I interrupt him. “Noah…” “I mean it,” I growl into the phone. “I’m blocking your number. Don’t try to contact me. I don’t want to see you.” With those words, I hang up the phone. My hands are shaking as I make good on my promise and block his number from my phone. I can’t believe my mother gave that asshole my number. The worst part is how oddly familiar his voice was. It sounded different than I remember, but something about it… maybe it was the thick New York accent. Talking to him felt like being stabbed in the chest. He looks like me. Or I look like him. Or at least, the way I look now is how he looked when he was my age in the photos I’ve seen. Spitting image. My mother always said he was too handsome for his own good, and she was right. From what I gathered, while she was home with me in our tiny Brooklyn apartment, he’d mess around with other women at every bar in the whole goddamn city. And he’d drink. I still remember him waking me up when he stumbled in at three in the morning, stinking of booze. You might look like him, my mother would say, but you’re nothing like him. She used to say it even when I was really young and wanted to be just like my dad. She was right—I excelled in school whereas he barely made it through high school. I never cheated on a woman in my life while he was a serial womanizer. And even though I don’t have any kids of my own, I think I’ve been a really decent father-figure to Lily. But I’m more like him than people know. On a night out, I only have one drink, but I’ve never told anyone before how much I often crave a second. That might not sound like a big deal, but it’s a slippery slope that I could easily slide down if I let myself. That’s why when I was in the hospital, at the height of agony from my injuries, I refused all oral pain meds. I knew if I went down that road, I’d get addicted in a heartbeat. I couldn’t let myself be like him.

So that’s my father. He stuck me with his shitty genes, treated us all like crap, then took off. I have no desire to see or speak to him ever again. “Noah?” I jerk my head up. Bailey is standing at the door to our bedroom—I didn’t even hear her come in. She looks tired, but also really pretty. She’d put her hair in a bun this morning, and now it’s partially come out, falling in sexy waves around her face. “You okay?” she asks me. “Fine.” I’m not going to get into the stuff with my father. Not now. “Lily is waiting for you to bring her two chips.” She tugs at the hairband holding her bun in place and it comes loose. “We’re going to have to get that ant farm soon, aren’t we? I’m going to have ants all over my home.” “You know ant farms don’t come with a queen,” I remind her. “That means if they escape, they’ll just die off because they can’t reproduce.” “Well, what if they find a new queen?” “That can’t happen.” “Says who?” I push any remaining thoughts of my father from my head and focus on Bailey. “Would you rather have an ant-farm-free home or a child who can read?” Bailey’s features relax into a smile. “She’s doing incredible, isn’t she? Her teacher wrote to me and told me how much her reading has improved.” “See? I told you I could do it.” She puts a hand on my shoulder, and I look up at her. One of the hardest things about being off my prosthetics is having to look up at everyone. I used to be tall. On my prosthetics, I still have at least some of that height, although I’m not quite as tall as I used to be. So to even the score, I pull her into my lap. “You are amazing,” she breathes. “You know that?” “I know.” My smile is genuine this time. “I can’t believe we’re getting married in a couple of months.” She leans her head against my shoulder. “Dad says they’re free on July tenth. What do you think about doing it then?” “July tenth…” My heart leaps in my chest. “You mean we’re setting a date?” “Yes. We’re setting a date.”

July tenth. That will be the day I marry the love of my life. It won’t end the way it did last time.  

Chapter 27: Bailey   After my “coffee” with Theo, it’s more than a tiny bit awkward when I see him a few days later, when I’m picking Lily up at his apartment. I had vowed to be nice. But then he opens the door for me and the stench of cigarettes immediately punches me in the face. “Theo,” I snap at him. “Were you smoking in here? You promised you wouldn’t smoke in front of Lily.” Theo actually quit smoking a few years back, but sometimes will have a few with his buddies. That’s his business. But I don’t want him smoking around Lily. My mom got cancer without the aid of carcinogens floating through the air, so I’m not going to expose my child to that. “I wasn’t.” He holds up his hands. He’s wearing a white T-shirt, and his bare arms look so scrawny and pale compared with Noah’s. “I had a friend over and he smoked one cigarette.” “Well, it stinks.” I know I sound like a bitch, but Theo brings that out in me. How come he can never just do what I ask of him? I glance around Theo’s tiny studio. “Where’s Lily?” To my horror, Lily rolls out from under the bed. What is she doing under his filthy bed? The smoke is bad enough, but I can’t even fathom how much dirt and dust there is under there. I want to scream at Theo for allowing such a thing, but there’s no point. He won’t listen. “Let’s go,” I mutter. “But wait!” Lily cries, as she brushes what appear to be cobwebs from her hair. “We have to get burgers and cupcakes!” “What?” Theo shoves his hands into the pockets of his baggy blue jeans. “There’s this restaurant that opened up down the block called Burgers and Cupcakes. I told her I’d take her there.” “Well, you’ll have to go next time,” I tell Lily. “We’re leaving now.” “Nooooo!!!!!!” Lily howls. “Daddy promised!” I glare at Theo, who doesn’t even look embarrassed. “Did you promise her burgers and cupcakes?” “Uh, sort of.” He shrugs. “What’s the big deal? We can go now.” “Right. But I’m here now.”

A smile plays on his lips. “So come with us.” I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m not coming to dinner with you.” “Why not? Is Noah waiting for you?” Noah is working now and will be gone till late, so he’s not waiting for us. I consider lying, but I hesitate a beat too long. “No.” “So.” He pokes my arm with his finger. “Come with us. It’ll be fun.” “Oh, will it?” “Come on.” He rolls his eyes. “This is really how you want it to be? We can’t have a dinner together with our daughter without it being a big thing?” “Burgers and cupcakes, Mommy!” Lily speaks up. “You don’t even like burgers,” I point out. “I like cupcakes.” “Come on,” Theo says again. “Just a quick burger and cupcake. What’s the big deal?” I must be a bigger pushover than I thought, because I somehow find myself agreeing to this. As I said, Theo never gives up and Lily is just as bad. Between the two of them, I figured it was better to just go get the burger and cupcake and have it be done. Besides, I do like burgers and cupcakes. Burgers and Cupcakes turns out to be a big, family-style restaurant, and before we even settle at our table, Lily’s ripped open her kids’ menu. It’s a maze of wordfinds, crossword puzzles, and… well, mazes. She immediately gets to work on one of the mazes, her tongue sticking slightly out of her mouth like she always does when she’s concentrating. Noah once pointed out to me that I do the exact same thing. I wonder if Theo notices things like that about me. “This is nice, isn’t it?” Theo comments as he opens up his menu that contains (I presume) mostly burgers and cupcakes. “It’s fine,” I mumble. He rubs at his bald scalp. I wonder if it’s itchy. “It’s like we’re a family again.” “Except we’re not.” “Yes, we are,” Lily speaks up. “We’re a mom…” She points to me. “A dad.” She points to Theo. “And a daughter.” She points to her own chest. “That’s a family.” Theo winks at me. “Can’t argue with that.”

Oh, Lord. This was a huge mistake. I thought it was easier to give in, but now that I’m sitting here, I’m tempted to tell them I’ll go wait outside. I’m not enjoying this at all. I just wish it were Noah I was here with instead of Theo. “Hey, Bailey,” Theo says. “What time should I show up for Lily’s dance recital?” My mouth falls open. “Lily’s…” He nods. “Yeah, isn’t it next weekend? That’s what Lily said. You got me a ticket, right?” I have no idea what to say to that. Yes, Lily has a dance recital next weekend. She’s been taking tap and ballet all year, and then I had to sell a vital organ to pay for her costume. I got two tickets—one for me and one for Noah. “I didn’t get you a ticket,” I say. He frowns. “Well, how come?” “Well, who knew you wanted to come!” “Why wouldn’t I want to come?” “Uh, I asked you if you wanted to come last year,” I remind him. “You said it sounded boring, and Lily wouldn’t even know you were there.” “I did?” “Yes!” “Well,” he says thoughtfully, “I’m turning over a new leaf. I’d like to come.” “Fine. So go to the dance school and get a ticket.” He frowns. “It’s all the way across town. You’re there all the time— you can’t grab me a ticket?” I grit my teeth. “The tickets are twenty dollars each.” “I don’t have it on me, but I’ll pay you back. I promise.” I give him a look. I’ve heard that before. “Really.” He looks me in the eye. “I just want to see my daughter’s dance recital. Please, Bailey?” I put down the menu. I’ve lost my appetite for both burgers and cupcakes. “You know,” I say, “Noah is going to be there.” He clutches his chest. “Oh my God. I can’t possibly be in the same room as Noah. It’s not like I work with the guy or anything.” I just stare at him. “Don’t worry,” he says. “Noah and I are cool. It will be fine.”

If the two of them are “cool,” it’s only because Noah has no clue that Theo begged me to get back together with him. But what can I say? I can’t tell Theo he’s not allowed to go to his own daughter’s dance recital. “Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll get you a ticket.” This is going to be awful.        

Chapter 28: Noah   I’ve made some bad decisions in my life. Specializing in emergency medicine wasn’t one of them. With my medical issues, surgery would have been a difficult specialty to do. Even if I could have rigged up a way to do surgeries without being on my feet—I know some docs do—I saw myself becoming a liability during my residency. I didn’t have the endurance. But with EM, I get the adrenaline rush without the long hours. And the pay isn’t bad either. One decision I always look back on was the decision to let them take my right leg. I will never know about that one. I had been in the hospital for months, in horrible pain, metal rods coursing through my leg, pumped up with antibiotics for infections that just kept coming. The surgeon came to me and told me if I had the amputation, it would all be over and I’d get to go home. And I’d be able to walk again. If I knew—really knew—how challenging it is to walk on two aboveknee prosthetics… well, I may have made a different decision. But I had no clue. I heard about the robotic legs, and I figured I’d be fine. And who knows—maybe I’d have been worse off if I kept the leg. Maybe it never would have healed right, like the doctor said, and I would have lived with even more pain than I’ve got now. I still remember waking up after that second amputation, looking down at what was left of my legs, my right still swathed in white bandages, with a horrible, sick feeling that I’d made a big mistake. I don’t know. I’ll never know. But it’s not a decision I can ever take back. But I know with a hundred-percent certainty that it was a bad decision getting Theo Duncan a job in the ER. It’s a slow night, so Theo is currently serenading the female staff. He brought his guitar with him, and he’s singing “Brown-Eyed Girl.” Admittedly, Theo has a decent voice. Had his luck gone a little differently, he might have made it as a rock star. He looks the part today, even in his scrubs, with his goatee and his cool bald head and his goddamn guitar. Every woman in the whole room is gazing at him like they want to have his babies.

“He’s not nearly as great as he thinks he is.” I turn my head in time to see Claire plop down into the chair next to me at the computers. I’m still in my wheelchair, but not for much longer. I’m getting my new sockets tomorrow, then I’m back on my feet. Thank God. “After all,” she adds, “that wouldn’t be physically possible.” “So you’re not one of his groupies?” I ask. She laughs. “Do I look like a groupie?” “No, but neither does Freda from custodial services. And look at her.” I swear, the entire ER has come to a halt to watch Theo sing. If someone stumbled in with a bullet wound to their chest, nobody would even notice. “He’s not my type,” Claire says. “Yeah?” I give her a sideways glance. “What’s your type anyway? I can’t figure it out.” “I know it when I see it, Doc.” I was infatuated with Claire when I first started working here. For at least three or four months, I tried to avoid staring at her or flirting with her or fantasizing about her. She was so damn competent, and her tits looked so great in those scrubs. I had resisted sleeping with any nurses through all of residency—I didn’t want the complications—but I couldn’t resist Claire. We did it here, in the hospital. In the physician on-call room. A quickie. Then a few more quickies. Then one day we were both finishing a shift at the same time, and I suggested we grab dinner together. All the color drained out of Claire’s face. Obviously, she wasn’t interested in anything more than a few quick fucks. Not with me, anyway. I don’t get involved with coworkers. I was more disappointed than I let on—Claire was the first woman I’d really liked in a long time—but I saw the wisdom in her decision. And now that I’ve got Bailey, I’m glad it happened the way it did. If I’d started dating Claire, it would have ended in either a rough breakup or else marriage. “Telling them to hire your girlfriend’s ex-husband…” Claire shakes her head. “I have to question the wisdom there, Doc. I think you’re getting senile.” “Just goes to show,” I mutter, unable to take my eyes off the crowd that’s formed to ogle Theo, “no good deed goes unpunished.” “How was that a good deed?”

“I was trying to save him from being homeless,” I say. “So Lily doesn’t have to go visit him in a homeless shelter.” “You saved him all right.” I give her a look. “Don’t worry, Doc.” She pats my bare forearm. “After he goes through all the nurses like toilet paper, the glam will wear off. Then they’ll move him down to Laundry or something like that.” I like the idea of Theo being assigned to the Laundry Room. And I also like the idea of him hooking up with nurses, because that would mean he’s staying away from Bailey. It’s obvious he wants her back. Why wouldn’t he? A few patients show up in triage, which means we all have to get back to work. All the ladies let out a collective groan when Theo puts away his guitar… but come on. This isn’t a goddamn concert in Central Park. It’s an Emergency Room! Theo ought to be getting busy, but it comes as no particular surprise when he plops down in the seat next to me. I glance at him, knowing he must be here to talk to me since he has no use for the computers. I take a calming breath. “This isn’t the time or place for you to be playing your guitar,” I say without taking my eyes off the computer screen. I’m allegedly reading the triage notes on my next patient, but I’m not really. “Glad you enjoyed the show, Walsh.” “I’m serious.” I grab my right wheel to swivel and face him. “It’s inappropriate.” “The nurses loved it.” “Claire thought it was inappropriate too.” “You mean the charge nurse?” Theo arches an eyebrow. “The one who acts like she’s God?” “She is God. At least, down here she is.” Theo narrows his eyes at me for a moment. Then his face lights up. “Oh, I get it. You’re sleeping with her.” My mouth falls open. “What?” He laughs, throwing his head back. His scalp gleams in the overhead lights. “You are, aren’t you? I wouldn’t blame you. She’s sexy in a bossy kind of way.”

“I’m not sleeping with her,” I say through my teeth. “I wouldn’t cheat on Bailey. I’m not like you.” He quits laughing, but that smile is still on his face. “Yeah, you’re right —you’re too much of a Boy Scout. But be honest: you hit that, right?” My mouth sets into a straight line. “That’s what I thought.” He smacks his knee. “Hey, I got a question for you, Walsh. Does Bailey know you go out of your way to request shifts with a woman you used to sleep with?” Shit, how does he know about that? I can think of several people who know I request to work with Claire, and any one of them might have blabbed. But it isn’t a big secret. I request Claire because she’s an incredible nurse. It has nothing to do with our past, which is irrelevant. “There’s nothing between me and Claire,” I say as calmly as I can. “Absolutely nothing.” “You must be blind then,” he says, “if you don’t see the way she looks at you. And she’s always touching your arm. She doesn’t act that way around any of the other doctors. You think nobody notices the way she flirts with you?” “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He snorts. “Don’t worry—I won’t tell Bailey. I owe you one, after all. And we’re practically family.” I grab my wheel to spin back to the computer. I need to get him out of this ER. If he doesn’t, I’m going to have to switch jobs. “Anyway.” Theo stretches his arms over his head and yawns. “I guess I’ll be seeing you at Lily’s recital, huh?” That gets my attention. “You’re going to Lily’s recital?” “Of course I’m going—Lily is my daughter.” The right side of his mouth curves upward. “Bailey didn’t tell you she got me a ticket?” A vein throbs in my temple. I know he’s baiting me. I’m not going to show him he got to me. Be strong, Walsh. He’s just a douchebag. “Lily told me it was important to her that her father be there for the recital,” he goes on. “So I said, ‘Lily, you want your dad there? I’m there.’ So I’m going to be there, front row and center.” I respect that he’s showing up for something so important to Lily. But at the same time, I wish he weren’t coming. It was supposed to be just me and Bailey in the audience. Now we have to deal with her ex-husband?

But what can I do? Theo is Lily’s real father, and she wants him there. And as much as I care about Lily, I’m not her father and I never will be.    

Chapter 29: Bailey   I was worried the drive to Lily’s dance recital might be tense. After all, Noah was less than thrilled to discover Theo would be coming. But he’s in good spirits as we travel uptown to the high school where the recital is being held. He’s even humming along to the radio. Lily chatters excitedly the whole while, intermittently patting the tight bun on the back of her head. We had a bit of an argument this morning because she wanted to wear makeup, but I think she’s far too young, even if the makeup is just for a recital. We finally compromised on lipstick only, and Noah made a big deal out of how pretty she looked. Noah looks pretty good himself today. He told Lily we were all dressing up for her big day, and then he put on a nice blue dress shirt that made the blue in his eyes look even more intense. Every time I look at him, I get a little flutter in my chest. It’s totally worth it to have to put on a dress myself, rather than the jeans and sweater I wore to her recital last year. When we get to the high school, Noah immediately pulls into the handicapped spot without hesitation, even though he’s got his prosthetics on. He doesn’t even consider parking anywhere else anymore. He has his new sockets now, which is part of the reason for his good mood, but he’s still limping more than he used to a year ago. When we get out of the car, he grabs his cane from the trunk. Lily races ahead of us, eager to get to the recital. “Hey,” I say to Noah when she’s out of earshot. He smiles at me. “Hey yourself.” “I just wanted to say thanks for being so cool about the whole Theo thing.” “Of course,” he says. “He’s Lily dad. What kind of jerk would I be if I said he shouldn’t come?” You’d be like Theo. I don’t say that though. I try not to badmouth my ex-husband—it’s tacky. As if I hadn’t spent enough money on dance classes, costumes, and three overpriced tickets (Theo still hasn’t paid me back for his), the lobby of the school is littered with more people asking for money. I can buy a T-shirt for Lily, advertising the dance school for only thirty bucks (forty for the

sweatshirt), roses for five bucks a pop, and various leotards and shoes and other dance-related products. The class itself is not that expensive, which is how I got sucked in two years ago. It’s the hidden costs that get you. “Can I have a rose?” Lily asks hopefully. Noah raises his eyebrows at me. He’d buy her one, but I don’t like her to think she just has to ask for something and she’ll get it. Before Noah came along, she would have assumed I didn’t have the money to shell out for something like that, but my finances have been in better shape lately, so I can’t blame her for trying. “Sorry, Lily,” I say. “But all my friends have roses!” “Maybe after,” I say vaguely. She’ll surely have forgotten about it by the end of the show. I’m worried Lily is revving up for a tantrum. But before that can happen, her eyes grow wide at something she spies across the room. She jumps about a foot up in the air and shouts: “DADDY!!!!!!!” She races across the room as fast as she can go in her little pink sneakers and hurls herself at Theo, who is standing near the entrance to the auditorium. He hands Lily a rose he apparently purchased while he was waiting here. Her face flushes at the site of the rose. “Daddy!” she says happily. “I need you to meet my dance teacher! And Arianna. And Leah. And Priya. And Crystal. And Jaclyn. And…” Theo gamely goes along with Lily as she pulls him around the room, showing him off. This is exciting for her, because Theo never shows up to stuff. I’m fairly sure most people at her new school think Noah is her dad, and I haven’t bothered correcting them. It’s sweet, but at the same time, I’m worried Noah must feel hurt. He helped me get Lily ready for the class. He brought her to at least fifty percent of the lessons. He drove us here. But now she’s acting like he doesn’t exist. “I guess we’re off the hook,” he says with a crooked smile. “You sure you’re not upset?” “Nah. I’m happy for her that he came.” He’s got to be lying. But he’s not acting upset, so I’m not going to push it. After a few minutes, a giggling Lily returns to us with Theo. He looks like he’s about to shake Noah’s hand, but at the last minute, holds back.

“Lily introduced me to everyone,” Theo says. “I feel like a celebrity or something!” Noah’s jaw tightens so imperceptibly, I’m certainly the only person who notices. The show is going to start shortly, and there’s an area downstairs where I’m supposed to deliver Lily and her second costume and her change of clothes/shoes. That said, I’m hesitant to leave these two men alone. Not that I think they’ll get into a fistfight if I leave, but… well, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. “Noah,” I say, “why don’t you find us some seats?” He gives me a thumbs-up. “Sounds good.” He winks at Lily. “Can’t wait to see your performance.” Lily rolls her eyes. “I just did it last night in the living room!” “Yeah, but this is onstage. With your friends. Completely different.” Lily giggles and rolls her eyes again. I take her by the hand and lead her downstairs, filled with regret about Theo and Noah being left alone together. Okay, a fistfight is unlikely. But I’m fairly sure nothing good can come of this. Then again, they work together. I’m sure they can behave themselves. Pretty sure. When I get downstairs, we find the large room full of antsy girls, ranging in age from three to preteen. Before I even step into the room, three kids in succession nearly collide with me. This place is a mob. Lily’s table is all the way in the back, naturally, so I have to pick my way through a room full of costumed little girls and nearly trip over five backpacks before I get to her table. Elise is already there with Arianna. The two girls embrace like they haven’t seen each other in ages, instead of just yesterday at the bus stop. Elise, who was messing with Arianna’s hair, lets out an annoyed grunt when her daughter pulls away. “I’m trying to get her hair right, but I give up,” she sighs. “I don’t know how to make a French braid. I’m sorry, Arianna.” Except Arianna is too excited about Lily showing up to care. Good thing, because I’ll be of absolutely no help with the French braid. “So.” Elise raises an eyebrow. “That hottie Lily was introducing to everyone… that’s her father?” I nod.

“Whoa,” she breathes. “That guy is sexy.” “Uh…” She laughs. “Well, he’s not as hot as Noah. I mean, Noah… damn. But he’s got that grungy look. You know how to pick ‘em, Bailey.” “Theo might be hot,” I concede, “but he’s not a great guy.” “Well, he seems to have a good relationship with Lily.” That’s true. Even though Theo has disappointed Lily many times, she still adores him. But that’s only because she doesn’t know better. “So his name is Theo, huh?” Elise muses. “Is he… single?” “Elise!” “Sorry, sorry. I just don’t meet many men, okay?” I could be pissed off but I’m not. Before Noah came along, the idea of meeting any guy, much less a nice guy, seemed impossible. So I understand Elise’s eagerness. But at the same time, she doesn’t want Theo. Not really. Even if I didn’t end up with Noah, I wouldn’t have regretted leaving Theo. He wasn’t a good husband or father. And no matter what he says, that will never change.  

Chapter 30: Noah   “So where should we sit?” I shoot a look at Theo. He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and his eyes are darting around the room. Parents were not required to dress up, but I wore a dress shirt and khaki slacks because I felt like it would be disrespectful to show up in jeans and a T-shirt. Bailey absolutely agreed. “We?” I repeat. He grins crookedly and rubs at his bald scalp. “Sure, why not? We’re all friends, aren’t we?” Is that what we’re pretending? Fine. Theo picks out some seats all the way in the last row of the auditorium, even though there are plenty of seats near the front. “This way we can duck out if we need to,” he says. “I’m not ducking out.” He snorts. “Yeah? You know this is going to be three hours of little girls bumping into each other to music, right? You don’t think you’re going to be desperate to leave after an hour?” He’s got a point. It will be awful. But I can sit through it for Lily. I’m not going to sit all the way in the back. We finally compromise on seats in the middle of the auditorium. He leaves a seat between us, where I assume Bailey will sit. I don’t want to sit right next to Theo. I wish he’d sit somewhere entirely different, but I won’t push it. “Hey, Walsh.” Theo leans across the empty seat to talk to me. “I was thinking maybe I could take Lily out to dinner after this. To celebrate.” Lily is supposed to be with us tonight, but it’s okay by me if he wants to take her to dinner. That way Bailey and I could go somewhere ourselves. “Fine with me, but you have to ask Bailey.” “You guys could come,” he says. I stare straight ahead. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think so.” “I took Lily and Bailey to this great restaurant last week,” he says. “Burgers and Cupcakes. Lily loved it, and Bailey thought it was okay.”

I jerk my head around to look at him. “You went to dinner with Bailey?” “Well, Bailey and Lily. Like, as a family.” He arches an eyebrow. “Bailey didn’t tell you?” There’s a smile playing on his lips. That asshole is doing this on purpose—he knows telling me he took Bailey and Lily to dinner would drive me nuts. But I don’t think he’s making it up. It would be easy enough to prove him wrong if he were. That means Bailey really went out to dinner with him. And she never told me about it. Damn it. I don’t know what I would have said to the guy next, but Bailey comes over at that moment. Even though I’m pissed off about what she did, she looks really sexy in that green dress she’s wearing. I still don’t forgive her, but I’m slightly less angry. And it helps that when she sees us sitting one seat apart, she sits in the seat next to me that isn’t next to Theo. Theo looks disappointed but doesn’t say anything. “There are about five dance numbers before Lily comes on,” she murmurs to me. “Plenty of time for her to mess up her hair.” I shouldn’t say anything about the dinner. I shouldn’t. We’re at Lily’s recital and this is her day. I should be more mature than that. This day is about Lily—not me. “Did you go out to dinner with Theo and Lily last week?” I hiss at her. So much for being mature. All the color drains from Bailey’s face. So that’s the answer. “Why would you do that?” I say in a low voice that I’m hoping Theo can’t hear over the thrum of activity in the theater. Although I have a bad feeling he can. “It wasn’t a big deal. At all.” She bites her lip. “Look, could we please talk about this later?” “Fine.” I shouldn’t have brought it up though, because it’s frustrating we can’t talk about it now. Although I don’t know what she could say to make it all right that she let Theo take her to dinner. I’m a level-headed guy. If she would have told me, it would have been different, but the fact she chose to hide it means she felt there was something to hide. And it’s tense between

us now. The last thing I want is to be fighting with Bailey right in front of her ex-husband. As promised, this recital is intensely boring. There is nothing here that could take my mind off how pissed off I feel. The kids are just barely dancing—they’re mostly just turning around in circles. Worse, on the third number, something goes wrong with the music and it takes ten minutes to get it working again. The only time I manage to crack a smile is when Lily (finally!) comes on the stage. She worked really hard on this dance number—she’s been practicing it every night in front of us. Maybe I’m biased, but she seems to be a better dancer than any of the other kids on the stage. Bailey is really enjoying it too. She takes my hand while the girls have joined hands to spin in a circle, and I give her a squeeze back. And after that, it’s deathly boring again for the next forty minutes. Intermission couldn’t come fast enough. The second the lights in the theater turn back up, Theo leans across us and says, “Hey, she wasn’t too bad!” “Yeah,” I mutter. He glances at his watch. “So what now? Can we see her?” Bailey nods. “You can go downstairs and talk to her until the second act.” She glances at me, then back at him. “Why don’t you go on ahead, Theo? We’ll meet you down there.” Theo flashes us a grin. He knows we’re about to have it out and he’s thrilled—asshole. “No problem.” I hate him. I want to knock that stupid grin off his face. Why did I get him that goddamn job? Why did I put him on the path to getting his shit back together? What the hell was I thinking? No. That’s selfish. It’s been bad for me, but it’s been good for Lily. She deserves a father who isn’t a loser. That’s why I got Theo a job in the first place. We’re both holding our breath until Theo disappears down the aisle and out of the auditorium. The second he’s out of earshot, she levels her brown eyes at me and says, “I’m really sorry. But I swear, it wasn’t a big deal.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t like the idea of you having dinner with him.” “But it was with Lily.”

“That’s even worse.” I shake my head. “Or… it’s just as bad. He’s your ex. And… I’m just going to say it… he’s a dick.” “Sometimes he’s a dick,” she agrees. “But not all the time. I mean, he’s not that bad. I married him, after all.” I stare at her. “What the fuck does that mean?” Her cheeks turn bright pink. “That came out wrong,” she says quickly. “I’m just saying… Lily wanted to have dinner with her father, and I didn’t see any harm in it. He is her father.” Right. Her father. That’s why she ran all over, proudly introducing him to everyone in the dance class. “He sure is.” “It wasn’t a big deal at all. I promise you.” “Maybe it wasn’t to you.” “Noah…” “If it wasn’t a big deal then why didn’t you tell me?” She hesitates, because she doesn’t have a good answer to that question. I grab my cane that’s leaning against the seat in front of me. “You know what, Bailey? I think I’m going to take off.” She blinks at me. “Are you serious?” “Yeah, I’m not in the mood for this. And Lily already danced.” “But she still has the finale…” “I’m sorry.” I get to my feet, grabbing onto the seat in front of me to keep my balance. “I’ve got to get out of here.” Her eyebrows bunch together. “You’re not even going to go see Lily downstairs?” From what I could tell, it’s at least two long flights of stairs to get down to see Lily. Stairs have always been hard for me, but now they’re near impossible. Intermission will be over by the time I make it down there. But I don’t want to point out my shortcomings to Bailey. Not now. “I’m sure she won’t miss me,” I say. “After all, she’s got her mom and dad there.” “Noah, don’t do this…” I sigh and adjust my pants leg, which has lifted enough to show off my metal ankle joint. “I’m going, okay? I’m not angry—I just… I don’t want to be here anymore.” She looks skeptical. Rightfully so. “Do you need me to pick you up at the end?” I ask. Because I may be angry, but I’m not about to abandon them.

“No, we’ll find our way home.” Of course they will. Theo will give them a ride. The thought of it is enough to make me consider staying, but I’ve already made my grand announcement, and to be honest, the thought of sitting through another hour of watching small children try to dance makes me want to stab myself in the eyeball. “I’ll see you at home,” I tell her. “I wish you’d stay,” she says in a small voice. I shut my eyes for a moment. I want to stay too, if nothing else for Lily’s sake. But even though I believe her when she says it meant nothing, the fact that she hid it from me feels like a betrayal. I need to be away from her right now. Because even if she didn’t mean it, she made me look like an idiot. She had dinner with another man—one who clearly wants to be with her. I’m not willing to blow that off.  

Chapter 31: Bailey   Noah is pissed. And I can’t blame him. I went to dinner with my ex-husband. Worse, I didn’t tell him about it. Still worse, Theo is trying to win me back. If Noah knew that last part, he’d be a lot angrier—although I’m sure he at least must suspect the truth. Why didn’t I tell him about the dinner? Honestly, I didn’t think it was worth mentioning. I was picking up Lily, and we got some food during the exchange. That’s all there was to it. It certainly wasn’t a “family dinner.” And yes, I did think there was a chance it might upset Noah if I told him about it, and I figured why upset him over something that was so insignificant? If I told him about it, that would make it into a bigger deal than it was. Of course, now I wish I had told him. Obviously. I’m not going to let anything like this happen again. If Theo wants to get dinner after this, that’s too damn bad. I’m taking Lily straight home. And I’m not accepting a ride from him either. We’ll take the bus. I have to make this right. I have a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach as I walk down the stairs to see Lily during the dwindling intermission. When I get over to Lily’s table, Theo is sitting with her while she chatters excitedly. He lifts his eyes when I approach, and there’s a flicker of amusement on his face when he notices that I’m alone. That jerk knew exactly what he was doing. But I’m not going to get into it now—not in front of Lily. “You were fantastic!” I tell my daughter. “I’m so proud of you!” Lily beams at me. She looks like she’s going to say something, but then her mouth snaps shut and she frowns. Looks around. “Where’s Noah?” “Oh.” I force a smile. “Honey, Noah had to go. He had to… um, work.” “But it’s my dance recital!” “Right, and he saw you dance. He thought you were wonderful!” “But…” Her lower lip trembles. “He’s going to miss the finale! The finale is the best part.” “Lily,” Theo says, “your parents are both here. Isn’t that the most important thing?”

She swipes a tear from her right eye. “I want Noah.” I don’t get it. The whole time before the show, when Noah was actually here, she couldn’t get enough of her father. And now that Noah is gone, he’s all she wants. “We’re going to get the video of the performance,” I tell her. We absolutely were not planning to get the video. It’s thirty bucks for under five minutes of Lily dancing. But I suppose now we have no choice. “So Noah will see you when he watches it!” But it’s too late—Lily is sobbing now. At least I didn’t put mascara on her like she’d wanted, because it would be streaked down her cheeks. I pull her into my lap and rub her back. It makes me sad that in a couple of years, she’ll be too big for me to do that anymore. “You can’t expect Noah to stay here the whole time, Lily,” Theo says. “He’s not your father. He’s got other priorities.” I shoot Theo my dirtiest look. I would reach out and strangle him if Lily were listening to anything he was saying or if I weren’t ninety-nine percent sure Lily doesn’t know what “priorities” means. She’s already worried about being cast aside if we have more children—why feed into that? And it’s so untrue. Noah loves his work, but Lily is definitely one of his top priorities. No matter how tired he is, he always makes time to read with her. He takes her to her dance classes. He even drove around late last night to find her a new pair of tights when she got a rip in her original pair. He’s made her a priority in ways that her real father never has. “That’s not true,” I say to Lily. “Noah had some really important work today, and he put it off just so he could see you perform. He thought you were so great. He’s really proud of you.” Lily sniffles loudly. “Really?” “Uh huh.” I hug her skinny body close to mine. “And he’s so excited to see your finale on video. So you better do a good job!” She manages a tiny smile. “Okay, Mommy.” A voice blasts on the overhead speakers that the intermission will be over in five minutes, so I kiss Lily on the cheek and turn to leave. I know Theo must be at my heels, but I don’t even want to look at him right now. I’m finding another place to sit when I get back to the auditorium. “Bailey!” His hand reaches my arm as I scale the second flight of steps to get to the main level. “Are you angry at me?”

I wait until I’m at the top to whirl around and glare at him. “Are you kidding me?” “What? What did I do wrong?” My cheeks are burning. “Why did you tell Noah that we went out to dinner?” He shrugs, not looking the slightest bit guilty. “I didn’t know it was such a big secret. So what if we went out to dinner with Lily? Why didn’t you tell him?” “You knew he would be upset!” He levels his eyes to look right at me. “Bailey, you’re the one who agreed to go to dinner. You’re the one who kept it a secret from your wonderful fiancé. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I hate that he is actually making some really good points. “Fine,” I say. “But we’re not going to dinner again. Ever.” “Whatever you want.” He shrugs again, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. I had been annoyed with Noah for wanting us to dress nicely for the recital, but now that I see Theo in his beat up T-shirt and jeans with a hole in the left knee, I can’t help but think it’s disrespectful. “But I think it’s a shame Lily can’t have dinner with her parents together. It’s bad enough she has to go from home to home.” “You know very well why it has to be this way,” I hiss at him. “You made it really clear when we got coffee the other day.” “Because I want us to be a family again?” He purses his lips. “Yeah, I’m worse than Hitler for that one.” I glance around. Almost everyone has gone back into the auditorium and we’re nearly all alone here in the lobby. I should get back inside. “Listen,” Theo says, “I’m going to go outside and have a smoke. Can you text me when Lily’s going to come on?” I want to make a comment about him starting up smoking again, but I bite my tongue. It’s none of my business what he does in his free time. “Fine.” He nods and heads outside while I go back into the auditorium all alone.    

Chapter 32: Noah   There are two things I do when I need to clear my head: go fishing and go to the gym. Fishing is not something I can do spur of the moment on a Saturday afternoon, so I drive straight to the gym after leaving Lily’s recital. I feel shitty that I left. I was pissed off at Bailey, but Lily has been talking about the finale for weeks, and now I’m missing it. Not that she’ll care—she’s so excited about her dad being there that she hardly noticed I showed up at all. But even if she doesn’t notice, I’ll never forgive myself for bailing on Lily. I should have stayed. I’m worse than Theo. I do my best to push that thought from my head as I grab the gym bag I’ve got stashed in the trunk of my 4Runner. I didn’t bring my wheelchair, which limits what I can do, and it means I’ll have to shower at home. But I can do weights and maybe the elliptical. Anything would help. When I first started going to the gym after my injury, I always wore sweatpants. The stares I got when I wore shorts weren’t worth it. But I started getting overheated in the sweatpants and eventually decided I had to get over myself. I only wear shorts at the gym now. Let people stare. I don’t like to think of myself as an exercise nut. I’m a good athlete, although I used to be better before. When I was in college, I ran a couple of half-marathons, but I preferred swimming—good thing, because it’s something I can still do now. I like the adrenaline rush of working out. I like the way my muscles ache the next day—it’s a healthy ache, completely unlike the pain I get in my right leg. I like the pain of a good workout. I hit the rowing machine first. It’s a decent cardio workout that gets my heart pumping, and it builds muscle, although in all modesty, I’m already doing pretty good in that department. After half an hour, I’ve worked up a sweat, and although I still feel bad about what happened at the recital, it’s been pushed into the back of my mind. So what if Bailey got dragged along to a dinner with her ex? It wasn’t like it was an intimate candlelight dinner. I’m not going to overreact. “Well, well, well, is this what the good doctor does on his day off?” I complete my rep and look up. I blink a few times at the sight of Claire Morgan from the ER.

It’s bizarre seeing her here. I’ve never seen her out of the hospital. I’ve never seen her out of her scrubs. Well, that’s not entirely true since we did manage to get in a little naked time way back when, but I’ve never seen her in anything but her scrubs. Now she’s wearing a black tank top that stretches over her sports bra and leggings that cling to her slim thighs. Her blond hair is swept into a high ponytail. “Hey, Claire.” I grab a towel to wipe sweat from my face. “What are you doing here?” “Grocery shopping.” I grin up at her. “I mean, I didn’t know you came to this gym.” “Eh, it’s close to work.” She tugs at her tank top. “Also, there are lot of hot guys who work out here.” “Yeah, that’s why I come here too.” She laughs. “By the way, nice machines you got there.” “Yeah. I always hit the rowing machine first.” “That’s not what I meant.” I follow her gaze down to my legs. At my energy-storing feet stuffed into my Nike’s. At the metal pylons that make up my shins. At the computerized knee joints. “Yeah, I like them.” “Kind of cool.” I look back up at Claire. It’s so weird to see her here, out of the hospital environment. She looks great in that workout gear. It’s amazing she’s single. How are guys not tripping over themselves to go out with her? “Anyway,” she says, “didn’t mean to disturb your workout, Doc. Just wanted to say hi.” “Yeah…” I grab a towel to wipe away a bead of sweat that’s leaked from my hair. Suddenly, I feel embarrassed at the dampness of my hair and the vee of sweat on my T-shirt. “Hey, how come you never call me Noah?” She blinks a few times. I’ve worked with her for four years and seen her naked, but I haven’t suggested she call me by my first name in a long time. I tried to get her to do it when we were hooking up, but she didn’t, and I finally gave up. “I’m just trying to be professional,” she says. “Right, well…” I tap a finger against my new thigh socket. “I think we can agree we failed at that so…” A tiny smile plays on her lips. “I’ll tell you what, Doc. I’ll consider it.”

She turns around then and goes off to one of the ellipticals at the other end of the room. Claire is great, but I’m really glad she turned me down all those years ago. If she hadn’t, I almost certainly would have still been with her when I met Bailey again, and I wouldn’t be marrying the girl of my dreams in a couple of months.        

Chapter 33: Bailey   Noah isn’t home when I get back with Lily. I’m already feeling frazzled from the second half of the recital. It went on forever—group after group of little kids awkwardly dancing around the stage. But of course, I couldn’t leave because then I might miss the finale. When the last number before the finale came onstage, I text Theo to come back inside. I’m not even sure why I bothered because he didn’t show up on time to see Lily march across the stage with her tap/ballet group, take a quick bow, then leave the stage (all totaling fifteen seconds). Instead, he materialized later in a cloud of cigarette smoke to tell Lily how great she was. In other words, he lied through his teeth. And then he invited us both for ice cream. If you are not a parent, you might not realize you cannot ever say the words “ice cream” without making ice cream happen. Kids won’t stand for it. So as soon as he says the words, Lily’s ears perk up and she is chanting, “Ice cream! Ice cream!” But of course, I can’t do that to Noah. Not when he’s still pissed off over the Burgers and Cupcakes. And I’m sure Theo knew exactly what he was doing, which absolutely infuriated me. We ended up getting a popsicle at one of the local deli-marts. Lily doesn’t stop crying until she’s unwrapped it and taken three bites. So I’m at the end of my rope when we get back home. And the fact that Noah isn’t here, even though it’s well into the evening, makes me feel a lot worse. Where is he? Is he still mad at me? Theo used to stay out all night when he was angry. No calls, no texts. Actually, that happened a lot even when he wasn’t angry. I pick up my phone, wanting to text Noah, but not sure if I should. We hardly ever fight, so I’m not entirely certain of the protocol. Should I let him have his space? Should I apologize? But before I can debate it further, the lock turns in the door. And there he is—Noah. Dressed in his gym shorts and T-shirt, his face slightly flushed. When he sees me standing in the living room, one corner of his lips lifts. “Oh, hey,” he says.

I can’t help myself. I drop my phone, race across the living room, and throw myself into his arms. He laughs and grabs onto the wall to keep from falling over. “Hey,” he says. “Don’t hug me—I’m sweaty from the gym. I need to have a shower.” “I just…” I pull away from him, swallowing a lump in my throat. “I missed you a lot after you left.” If situations were reversed, Theo might have made some snarky comment about having my ex to keep me company, but Noah isn’t like that. Thank God. Instead, he just pulls me closer. “I missed you too. I shouldn’t have left. I overreacted.” “No. I get it. But I still missed you.” He lowers his lips onto mine. God, I wish Lily weren’t awake and in the next room. The hardest thing about having kids is that your boyfriend can’t ravish you whenever he feels like it. “So how about dinner?” he asks me. “I’ll take you guys anywhere you want.” “Well, Lily just filled up on ice cream,” I say. “You bought her ice cream right before dinnertime?” Noah gives me an incredulous look as he pulls away from me. It’s obvious he’s going to be one of those parents who is not cool with the kids doing whatever they want. He thinks I let Lily watch far too much television, and he gets pissed off when I let dessert precede dinner. Which happens more than I’d like to admit. “She was upset,” I explain. “It was the only way I could calm her down.” “Great.” “Well, Theo wanted to take us for ice cream,” I say weakly. “And I had to say no because… well, obviously. But of course, she really wanted to go, so…” Noah is just shaking his head. “Look,” I mutter, “it’s not the end of the world if she has dinner and dessert in the reverse order. If I want my daughter to have ice cream before dinner, then why not?” “Yep.” His jaw tightens. “She’s your daughter, so… it’s entirely up to you.”

Damn it. I thought we had made up, but it seems like everything still isn’t quite back to normal. “I didn’t mean it like that…” He stares at me for a moment, and then his shoulders sag. “I’m just going to order some pizza. Okay?” “Okay. And for Lily—” “Half plain. I know.” He goes to call up Mike’s to get our pizza delivered. I know we’ve made up, but it doesn’t entirely feel that way. There will be a point where we settle into a family dynamic, but I don’t think we’re quite there yet.    

Chapter 34: Noah   It’s a straight shot to get from our apartment to Theo’s studio using the subway. That’s what Bailey always does when she picks Lily up from his place. For me, it’s not so easy. When I was in my twenties, I used to brave the subway, but now that I’m older and more cautious, I don’t attempt it anymore. Truth be told, it’s been two years since I’ve taken the subway. The problem with the subway is there are stairs. Many, many stairs. Sometimes you get lucky and there’s an escalator, but usually it’s just lots and lots of stairs. I’m very slow at stairs, especially now. I used to map out the stations that had elevators, but you can’t count on that. Elevators break unexpectedly, and then you’re stuck at the bottom of five trillion stairs with no choice but to make the climb. And then there’s the subway itself. More than once, I’ve let go of the metal bar for a split-second while preparing to dismount or maybe my hand was getting sweaty—who knows?—and then ended up sprawled on the floor. The floor of the subway, which is the most disgusting surface known to man. And if I had a stop to get off at, then forget it. I would definitely miss it. And someone would inevitably have to help me to my feet. When I was twenty-five and poor, I’d risk it. Now I’m thirty-four and I’ve got my own vehicle, so I’m damn well not getting near the subway. Today is Memorial Day, and Lily spent last night at Theo’s place, even though it’s not one of his usual days to see her. She begged to go over there, and Bailey said it was fine. It was nice having the place to ourselves again, but I can’t help but notice she’s been spending more nights there than she used to several months ago. Theo used to have a myriad of excuses ready to get out of spending a night or evening with Lily, but now he’s always up for it. I wonder if he really has changed. When I pull up to the corner in front of Theo’s building, Lily and Theo are standing together, side-by-side. Theo holds up his hand and yells out “Go!” And then the two of them go running. I watch them race as I get out of the car. Theo is holding back, letting Lily stay just ahead of him. Lily, on the other hand, is so incredibly proud

of herself for beating her father in a footrace. “I won!” she screeches, when she ends up back on the corner about five steps before he does. “I won! I won!” Theo wipes imaginary sweat from his brow. “Wow, you are fast, Lily. How did you get so fast?” “I practice, silly.” She’s doing a victory dance now, spinning around happily. “We run during gym at school, and I’m the fastest of everyone.” “I’ll bet you are,” Theo says. She frowns. “But nobody will ever race me at home.” “I can race you if you want, Lil,” I say. Lily laughs. “No, you can’t!” She didn’t mean to be cruel, but her words are a slap in the face. To be fair, there’s every reason for her to think I can’t race her. For starters, any time we’re together lately and she walks too briskly, I have to tell her to slow down. I don’t give off vibes of a champion sprinter. “I can race you in my wheelchair,” I mumble, but she’s not even listening anymore. She’s babbling to Theo about running, and how it’s her new favorite sport, and maybe someday she’ll be a professional runner. That’s not a realistic career. Professional runner? Come on. Entomologist makes a lot more sense. “All right, Lily,” Theo says. “I’ll see you next weekend, okay?” “No!” Lily whines. “I don’t want to go! I want to stay!” Theo lifts his eyes to glance at me. “I wish you could stay too. But Noah is here to pick you up.” “But I’m having fun!” Her eyes fill with tears. “Can’t I please stay a little longer?” If I were Lily’s real parent, I’d tell her to get in the damn car and quit arguing. But a tiny voice inside my head is telling me that Theo has more of a right to be with her than I do. He’s her father—of course she doesn’t want to leave him. I can’t stop thinking about how proud she was to show him off at her recital last week. Theo scratches at his bald skull. “I’m sorry, Lily…” She swipes tears from her eyes as she plops herself down on the steps to Theo’s building, next to her unicorn backpack. “It’s not fair. I always have to leave when I’m having fun…” I do a few calculations in my head. Bailey won’t be home from work for another hour. I bought Lily a new book about bugs, and I thought we

could spend the extra time reading it. But… well, maybe she’s not into bugs as much anymore. “Listen, Lily,” I say. “There’s a diner down the block and… how about if I go get myself a cup of coffee and you can race with your dad a little longer. Okay?” Lily lets out a whoop, and I know I’ve done the right thing. Even Theo’s face breaks into a grin. “Thanks, man,” he says. “No problem.” A crease appears between his eyebrows. “Hey, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Last time Theo said that to me, I had to get him a job. “Sure.” He nods at my 4Runner. “What kind of booster seat do you have?” I blink at him. It’s the last thing I expected the man to say. “Huh?” His smile is crooked. “Bailey was always reading me the riot act about not having a booster seat for Lily in my car, and I used to argue with her that I never had one as a kid, but… the truth is, I couldn’t afford it. But I’ve got some extra money now, and I want to make sure Lily is safe in my car.” My mouth falls open, and I’m not sure what to say. Theo is actually trying. He’s trying to be a good dad in a way he never did before. “I’ve got a Graco seat with the high back,” I say. “It was about sixty bucks.” He pales slightly at the price. “But there’s a backless version that’s maybe twenty bucks.” “Well…” He chews on his lip. “The one with the high back is safer?” “I think at her height and weight, the backless one is fine.” “Okay.” He nods. “I’ll get it this week.” I’m glad he’s getting that booster seat. I was furious when Bailey informed me he was driving her around in his car without a booster seat in it. I was two seconds away from buying him one myself and giving it to him, but Bailey assured me he’d refuse to use it and I’d be wasting my money. Theo has changed. It’s a good thing. At least, it’s a good thing for Lily.  

Chapter 35: Bailey   Before Noah came along, Lily and I were usually not very formal about dinner. She tends to get hungry at five o’clock, when only little kids and old people eat dinner. So I used to let her eat in front of the television, and then I’d eat on my own at a more reasonable hour. When I moved in with Noah, he was shocked by this arrangement. Of course, I immediately felt inadequate that his single mom prioritized family dinners when I didn’t. I ate dinner in front of the TV plenty of times when I was a kid, he finally admitted. But I always thought when I had my own family, we’d all eat together. And so now we do. We’re having spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. I wanted to make the meatballs from scratch, but time got away from me, and Noah’s got to leave soon for a night shift at the hospital, so we’re having defrosted meatballs instead. They don’t taste as good as my own, but it’s not a huge difference, honestly. “I love pisgetti,” Lily says as she happily dangles a strand of spaghetti over her mouth. “Spaghetti,” Noah corrects her, although he’s smiling. “Spaghetti” is one of the few common words Lily still mispronounces regularly, and I almost wish he wouldn’t correct her. It’s cute. “Pisgetti,” she says again, more uncertainly this time. I’m not sure she can hear the difference. Noah laughs. “Close enough.” Lily licks all the sauce off the spaghetti, then finally eats the noodle itself. She can’t manage to eat anything normally. “Daddy likes spaghetti,” she comments. “Is that so?” I murmur. She’s been talking about Theo a lot lately. I wish she wouldn’t, especially around Noah, but what am I supposed to do? Tell my daughter she can’t talk about her own father? “Uh huh.” She picks up a new strand of spaghetti. “He also likes cheeseburgers. Medium-rare. With a beer.” I avoid looking at Noah. “Very interesting.” “You know what I wish?” she says.

I take a sip of my Diet Coke. “What do you wish?” “I wish Daddy could live with us again.” I start coughing violently on my soda. Wow. I did not expect that one. Yes, Lily’s been more excited to see Theo lately, and he’s certainly been stepping it up a bit in the dad department, but that one really shocked me. When Theo first moved out years ago, Lily used to ask when Daddy was coming home, but it was more out of curiosity than anything. This is the first time she’s ever expressed that she wants him to live here again. I glance at Noah, who is silent, his eyes staring down at his plate as he shoves spaghetti around in circles. “Lily,” I say patiently. “Your father and I are divorced.” “So?” “So you can’t live together when you’re divorced.” “Why not?” I don’t know how to answer this line of questioning. And it’s even harder with Noah right here. I can’t even imagine what he must be feeling now that his would-be stepdaughter is asking to have her father move back in. Especially since I know how much he cares about Lily and has tried so hard to be the dad he feels she deserves. Before I can say anything more, Lily starts building her case. “Sarah’s dad lives with her,” she says. “So does Leah’s dad. And Graham’s dad. And Madelyn’s dad. And Oliver has two dads living with him.” Noah stands up abruptly from his chair. He pulls the napkin off his lap and tosses it on the table. “Listen, Bailey, I’ve got to get to my shift.” “Oh…” I glance down at his plate, which still has plenty of food on it. “Are you… I mean, you should finish eating.” “I’m not that hungry.” He shrugs, but I see a vein standing out in his neck. “I’ve got to get to the hospital.” “Well, if you have to…” My heart speeds up in my chest. I mouth the words: “I’m sorry.” He nods, but it’s hard to read the expression on his face. He’s got to be hurt. Lily isn’t doing this to make him feel bad, but there’s no way this isn’t affecting him. He’s gone out of his way for her over and over, but she still prefers Theo. I don’t get it. Lily is oblivious to the angst she’s caused as Noah shuts the door a little louder than he needs to as he leaves the apartment. She’s munching on

a meatball, licking off the sauce first, then eating the outside, all the while maintaining it in ball form as she devours it. “Lily,” I say, “do you know how much it hurts Noah’s feelings if you say you want your father to live here?” She looks up from her meatball. “Why?” Is she really so cruel? Lily isn’t heartless. If anything, she’s more sensitive than most kids. “You realize,” I say, “that if your father moved back in, Noah would have to leave.” Her mouth falls open. “He would? But why?” Okay, she isn’t cruel, just clueless. “Because you can’t have two men living together like that.” “But Oliver’s dads—” “That’s a different situation,” I say through my teeth. “Oliver’s dads are a couple. If your father lived here, Noah couldn’t live here.” She considers this, her eyebrows knitting together. “But I don’t want Noah to leave!” “Well, that’s what would happen.” “Then I want Noah to stay here,” she says without hesitation. That brings a smile to my lips. “Even instead of your dad?” She nods emphatically. “Daddy’s got an apartment already. Also, Noah makes you smiley. You don’t cry anymore now.” Oh God. I didn’t know Lily was aware of the times I’d suddenly burst into tears in our pre-Noah days. I did my best to hide it from her—if I felt the tears coming on, I’d race out of the room before she could see. But there were times when the loneliness and the lack of money and my whole pathetic life would get the better of me. But I don’t feel that way anymore. This last year with Noah, I’ve felt happy in a way I never imagined I would ever again. “Also,” she adds, “he knows everything about bugs.” I grin at her. “He sure does.”    

Chapter 36: Noah   I can’t shake the bad feeling in the pit of my stomach for the next several days. I put in more time at the gym—too much time—but I still don’t feel good. I want to marry Bailey. I want her and Lily to be my family. But at the same time, I wonder if things will never be the way I want them to be. Theo is always going to be Lily’s dad, and I can’t change that. When Lily said she wanted Theo to move back in with them, it was like a knife in my heart. Bailey tried to tell me that Lily didn’t understand we couldn’t all just live together under one roof like one big colony of hippies. She insisted Lily was really upset at the idea of me moving out, but I’m not so sure. Theo and Lily have gotten close lately. She has a chance at a real relationship with her father—something I always wanted as a kid and could never have. I’m the one person standing in the way of that. Thursday is a rough shift at the ER. A multi-trauma comes in early—a bad car accident in which one of the passengers gets rushed to the OR, and I hear later he didn’t make it. That sort of shit haunts me. I’ve lost a few patients over the years, and even though I don’t get to know them that well in my line of work, it stays with me. I lost one pediatric patient my second year on the job, and I still remember how the entire ER was muted for a long time after we called the time of death. I will never forget that day for the rest of my life. Never. So by the time I get home, I just want to relax. And I’m not thrilled when the first thing that happens when I walk in the door is I nearly slip and fall. I catch myself, but just barely. And then I say a few words I’m glad Lily isn’t in the room to hear. I look down and see a bunch of magic markers. “Bunch” is an understatement. There are no fewer than fifty magic markers scattered across the living room floor. In fact, the whole room is a disaster. I don’t know what sort of arts and crafts project Lily’s been working on in here, but it’s bad. There are markers everywhere. She’s cut little pieces of white paper that are littering the floor under the coffee table. And glitter. There is so much glitter. So much.

Best of all, Lily is nowhere to be seen. She just made this mess and then left. I don’t get that. If I had raised her, she would know not to leave a room without cleaning up her mess. That’s what my mother taught me. Bailey is nowhere in sight either. All I see is her cell phone charging on the kitchen counter. It buzzes twice loudly, indicating she got a text. “Lily!” I yell. Lily bounces out into the living room, her hair in a messy ponytail. Her dress is just as messy as the room, covered in glitter and marker stains. I don’t feel comfortable putting her in the shower because… well, she’s a little girl and I’m an adult man who is not her father. Not appropriate. That said, there are times when I want to run a hose over her. “What’s this mess out here?” I ask her. Lily regards the coffee table and the floor with curiosity, as if she’s seeing it all for the first time. “Oh.” Bailey must have heard me yelling and comes into the living room. Apparently, she didn’t know what Lily was up to, because she looks just as shocked as I was by the appearance of the living room. She winces. “Oh, geez. Lily, what were you doing in here?” “Playing,” she says simply. “All right,” I say. “Well, now it’s time to clean it up.” Lily looks less than thrilled. “But I’m busy. I’ll clean it up later.” “No,” I say patiently. “You’re going to clean it up now.” Before I break my neck on a marker. Her lower lip juts out. “But I’m busy. I don’t want to!” Bailey’s cell phone buzzes a couple more times. Buzz, buzz. Someone is texting her repeatedly. She glances at her daughter, then back at me. “I’ll help you clean it up, Lily. Okay?” Is she kidding me? “Bailey, come on,” I say. “You know what happens. You say you’ll help, but then you end up doing all the work. Lily made the mess by herself, why can’t she clean it up by herself?” “It’s too much!” Lily wails. Her lower lip is trembling. When I first moved in with Bailey and Lily, I was taken in by Lily’s act, but now I can see it for what it is: fake tears any time we ask her to do something she doesn’t want to do. She turns it on like a flick of a switch. I have no idea how Bailey doesn’t see through this. Lily’s a good actress, but she’s not that good. “I’ll help you,” Bailey says quickly.

Buzz, buzz. I glance at Bailey’s phone. It’s starting to irritate me—who the hell keeps texting her? “Bailey,” I say firmly. “Lily is capable of cleaning up her own mess. Let her do it herself.” “Noah, please,” she murmurs. “Just… let me handle this.” “But you’re handling it wrong.” Lily has quieted down now, watching our interaction. Maybe I should back down. After all, I’m new to this game. But whatever Bailey has been doing with Lily, it hasn’t been working. Before I stepped in, Lily couldn’t even read. I don’t fault Bailey for that. I know first-hand how hard it is for a mom to manage it on her own. They need my help. Lily is a good kid, but she needs a little discipline. She needs a father figure. God knows, her real father has never provided that for her. Bailey grabs me by the arm and tugs me into the kitchen so Lily won’t be able to hear us. “Lily and I will clean together,” she says firmly. “That’s what we always do.” “Come on. This is a joke. She’s manipulating you.” Bailey’s eyes widen. “Don’t say that about my daughter!” “But it’s true.” Buzz, buzz. “Listen.” Her voice is low and angry. “If I say this is what we’re going to do, this is what we’re going to do.” She punches her fists into her hips. “She’s my daughter, Noah. Not yours.” I flinch like she just decked me. It takes a second for Bailey to realize what she said, and then some of the fire goes out of her eyes. But of course, it’s too late. I can’t fucking believe she said that to me. I love them. I love Bailey, of course, but I love Lily too. A lot of the time, I forget she isn’t my own flesh and blood. But Bailey hasn’t forgotten. And neither has Theo. And they never will. That’s why I can’t shake this bad feeling that the dinner the three of them had together, while not illicit in any way, was symptomatic of something more. Of Bailey’s desire for them to be a family together again. I can never be part of that. “I shouldn’t have said that,” Bailey murmurs. “I had really a stressful day. I’m sorry.” “You meant it though.” “I didn’t. I just…”

Buzz, buzz. Who the hell keeps texting her over and over with no response? The sound is like nails on a chalkboard. I grit my teeth and snatch her phone up in my hand, just to get the damn thing to stop. I don’t mean to look at it, but when I glance down, I see a string of messages filling the screen. All from Theo Duncan. And I can’t even believe what I’m reading.  

Chapter 37: Bailey   Today was one of those days. The morning started out with a visit to the home of a sixteen-year-old boy with Down’s Syndrome and his mother, and I found the kid had bruises all over his face—and, it was later discovered, all over his body. I had to call Child Protective Services, even as the mother was begging me not to. I’ve been helping this family get services for a year, and I honestly didn’t believe the mother would do something like that, but… well, someone beat up that kid. It later came out that the mother had a new boyfriend. I cried quietly in the bathroom for about ten minutes after I left them. This isn’t the first case I’ve seen where a stepfather beat up a kid. Or sexually abused a kid. Or, in one case, drowned the kid. Subconsciously, that’s probably why I’ve been so scared to date since my divorce—I was worried about Lily. And now I’m about to get her just about the best stepfather in the world, and look what I said to him. I don’t know why I said it. Noah is a great guy and he loves Lily. I know he does. But at the same time, he’s not her dad. And it’s frustrating when he tries to force parenting decisions on me. Okay, he’s right more than I’d like to admit. But still. They’re my mistakes to make. If Theo weren’t in the picture, it would be different. Then Noah could adopt Lily and really take on the role. But Lily has a dad. She’s already got two parents looking out for her, and it’s hard to have a third person coming in and giving yet another opinion. It further complicates an already complicated situation. But at the same time, I shouldn’t throw it in his face like that. He’s mad. I can tell he’s mad. And then my goddamn phone keeps buzzing for some reason, while we’re trying to sort through this. So when he grabs it, I don’t think anything of it. I mean, who could possibly be texting me? It’s not like I’m exchanging sexts with anyone. But then Noah’s blue eyes fly open. “What the fuck is this?” he says under his breath. And he never swears in front of Lily. “What?”

I crane my neck to see what’s on the screen. It’s texts from Theo. A whole bunch of them. “‘Could we go get coffee again?’” he reads off the screen. “‘I need to talk to you. And maybe this time we could actually get some coffee.’ Winky face.” He looks up at me. “’Ha ha. LOL.’ Winky face with tongue sticking out.” Oh no. “Bailey,” he says in a low voice. “What is going on?” Before we get into it, I turn to my daughter. “Lily, can you please go to your room?” “But, Mommy, I’m cleaning!” And sure enough, she is. While Noah and I were arguing, she somehow started tidying up the mess she’d made. Leave it to Lily to do the right thing at the exact wrong moment. “Let’s go into the bedroom,” Noah mutters. We manage to hold off from saying another word till we get into the bedroom. Noah shuts the door behind us. And locks it. “Are you fucking him?” is the first thing he says to me. “What?” I squeeze my fists together. “Are you kidding me? I’m not… I mean, how could you think that?” “Coffee breaks where you don’t get coffee?” A vein stands out in his neck. “Isn’t that a euphemism? Plus you’re not denying any of it. So what am I supposed to think?” My cheeks feel hot. I probably look like an apple, which certainly isn’t helping my case. “We met for coffee. Once. For, like, ten minutes. He told me he needed to talk to me.” “And you met him.” “Yes.” “And once again you didn’t tell me about it.” “I just thought…” Tears spring to my eyes—I’m not sure if crying will make him more or less sympathetic. “I didn’t want to upset you.” “Oh, well, that’s nice of you.” “Please believe me,” I say. “It was just a ten-minute meeting. That’s it. I swear to you. Theo and I do have a child together. We are going to have to discuss things from time to time regarding our kid.” He studies my face. I’m not sure if he believes me or not. “So that’s what he wanted to talk to you about? Lily?”

I wish he hadn’t asked me that. Because now I can either lie or tell him something he doesn’t want to hear. But before I can say anything, he figures it all out: He snorts. “He wanted you to get back together with him, didn’t he?” “Well…” I heave a sigh. “Yes. He did.” “And what did you say?” “I said no!” I shake my head at him. “God, what do you think? Of course I said no!” “So you didn’t even consider it?” “No!” He narrows his eyes at me. “You hesitated.” “I did not hesitate!” “Well, why not?” He lifts his eyebrows. “He’s your daughter’s father, after all. He would be allowed to tell her to clean up her own goddamn mess without overstepping his bounds.” “Noah, please don’t…” “Please don’t what?” His blue eyes flash. “I’m trying my best, Bailey. I’m trying to be a good fiancé to you. I’m trying to be a dad to a kid who everyone constantly points out isn’t mine to parent. Maybe Theo’s right. Maybe I should quit trying to be part of a family that isn’t mine.” The tears I’ve been holding back overflow. I knew there was some resentment smoldering under the surface since Lily’s recital, but what he’s saying is crazy. He has to realize that. I love him. I could never love Theo the way I love him. How does he not see that? “Theo is not my family anymore,” I say as I swipe away the tears on my cheeks. “I don’t want him. He might be Lily’s father, but that’s all he is to me.” “Well,” Noah says, “maybe that’s enough.” “Noah…” He shuts his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m going out, Bailey. I… I need to think. And you do too.” “No, I don’t!” “I think you do.” When he opens his eyes, the hurt I see in them makes my chest ache. I vowed I’d never do that to him again. “You already broke my heart once before. Do me a favor, Bailey. Don’t fuck around with me, okay?” “Noah…”

But he’s already walking away. He brushes past me, out of the bedroom, then out the front door. I hear it slam shut behind him.      

Chapter 38: Noah   Well, now what the hell am I supposed to do? My head is spinning as I leave my building, not entirely sure of my destination. Do I believe Bailey is cheating on me with Theo? No, I don’t really believe that. For a second, it seemed like a possibility though. I see how all the nurses look at him—he’s more desirable than he used to be— but she wouldn’t do that. She’s not a cheater. But there’s a more important question. Does she wish she were back with him? I believe the answer might be yes. Theo’s hot—he’s more her type than I am. He’s got steady work now, thanks to yours truly. He’s been stepping it up in terms of Lily, which is what she’s always wanted. He’s getting older and he’s settling down, the way she always wanted. And he’s Lily’s father. She clearly likes him—or at least, she used to. He’s the one she married, after she returned my ring. And she still thinks he’s attractive. I remember what Lily told me when we were getting pizza together and talking about her father’s newly shorn skull: Mommy likes it. She said to him it looks good. And then her face got really red. I tried to put it out of my head. Laugh it off. So what if Bailey thinks Theo is attractive? I’ve got a lot going for me that he doesn’t have. She loves me. But now I’m not so sure anymore. After all, she went for coffee alone with him. And as much as I would love to believe that was entirely innocent, I’m not sure it was. If it were, wouldn’t she have told me about it? No, Bailey has feelings for Theo. If I weren’t in the picture, I bet my life she’d get back together with him. I don’t want her to stay with me out of guilt or obligation. Worse, I feel like I’m breaking up a family. Shit. I stand on the corner of my block, not sure where to go. I’ve never been in a situation where I couldn’t go home. I’ve been through relationship

problems and breakups before, but I’ve never lived with a woman before. My place was always mine. I could get a hotel. Or I could crash at the hospital. My mom lives in Queens, but that’s not a possibility anymore. She lives with Bailey’s dad, after all. The hospital is very tempting. And I could grab some spare scrubs there since I failed to bring a change of clothing when I stormed out. But I don’t have my wheelchair. If there was one thing I should have grabbed when I left, it was that. But it’s hard to make a dramatic exit when you’re dragging a wheelchair behind you. Oh well. I sink down onto the steps of a building, trying to figure out my next move. Maybe I’ll go back after everyone is asleep and either sleep on the couch or at least grab my shit. In the meantime, I’ll go to Starbucks or something. While I’m struggling to get back on my feet, which isn’t the easiest thing to do from steps without a railing, my phone buzzes in my pocket. At least I managed to take my phone with me. I would have had to swallow my pride and go back upstairs if I hadn’t. The name flashing on the screen is “Mom.” My mother is calling. I don’t feel like talking to her now, but at the same time, there’s something reassuring about her voice. I debate for a moment, then finally pick it up. “Noah?” “Hey, Mom.” Her voice immediately fills with concern. “Is everything okay?” I can’t bring myself to tell her about Bailey. It’s all too fresh. “Yeah. Fine. What’s going on?” “Well…” There’s a long pause on the other line. “Your father called me again. He said you won’t speak to him.” I groan. Is this why she’s calling me? To harass me to talk to my deadbeat, loser father? Forget it, Mom. “I don’t want to talk about this now.” “When then? Noah, he just had a heart attack. He’s not going to be around forever.” “Well, so what?” I growl. I’m surprised by the anger in my own voice. If she had called me an hour ago, I might have been nicer, but I don’t have it in me now. “So he had a heart attack. So what? I almost died when I was

twenty-two, but did he care? Did he bother to come see me? Of course not.” I remember the dream I had just before I woke up from my surgery, of him at my bedside, holding my hand. Even after everything he had done, I had still wanted him there. But he didn’t show. I’ll never forgive him for that. “He was never there for me. So why should I care about him?” There’s such a long silence on the other line, for a moment, I’m worried my own mother has hung up on me. But then she finally speaks: “That’s not… exactly true.” “What do you mean? He wasn’t there. How could it be ‘not exactly true’?” “The thing is…” She lets out a long sigh. “Your father… he’s wanted to come back into your life since you were fourteen.” “What?” What is she saying? This is not what I need right now. Major revelations about my father are not welcome at the moment. “He called me up,” she murmurs. “He said he wanted to get back together and I said… well, absolutely not. But he wanted to at least see you. And I told him no.” I rub my temple with my fingers. “But… why?” “Because he was a horrible father!” Her voice cracks on the words. “He disappointed you time and again. He put you in danger by not showing up when you needed him. He was always drinking… and he wasn’t nice when he was drinking.” Her voice softens. “It took you a long time to get over him leaving, and you were just about to start high school when he came back. I didn’t want him to mess up your life. So I told him unless he could be committed to being the father he needed to be, he wasn’t allowed to see you.” “So…” I rake a hand through my hair, trying to process all this. “What did he say?” “He thought about it and decided I was right. He agreed not to see you.” I stare at my artificial knees, unable to believe what I’m hearing. How could my mother tell my own father he wasn’t allowed to see me? And not even give me the option? “But he and I talked every couple of months,” she goes on. “We’d talk about you for an hour or longer. He wanted to hear everything about how you were doing. But he was still drinking a lot and couldn’t hold down a job

and… well, I told him until he got his act together, he needed to stay away. And he did. Until…” A lump rises in my throat. I know what she’s going to say, and I’m not sure I want to hear it. “When you had your accident,” she says, “I thought… well, the doctors told me you might die. I called him so he could see you one last time before… God, I can’t even think about it. He came right away—drove for four hours straight. The two of us sat by your bed the whole night.” That dream. My father by my bed, holding my hand. It was real. He’d really been there. He came for me. “But then you woke up,” she continues, “and I told him… he needed to leave. Before you knew he was there.” I feel like I’m choking. For a moment, it’s hard to get in a breath of air. “Why would you do that?” I manage. Her voice is choked too. “The first thing Michael told me when he showed up at the hospital was that he was living in his car. His clothes stunk of beer. You were going through so much right then. I couldn’t allow him to—” “It wasn’t your decision!” I burst out. “Christ, Mom… I was an adult. If I wanted to see my father, I should have been allowed to! At least I could have known he showed up for me, instead of thinking…” All these years. All these years spent hating my father for how he abandoned us without a second thought. All these years thinking he didn’t care that I almost died. “I stand by what I did, Noah. After all, look how well you’re doing now.” Not so well. She might not say that if she knew what was going on between me and Bailey. “I will never forgive you for this,” I say through my teeth. “Noah…” Her voice cracks again. “I only did what I thought was best for you. You must understand that.” Why would I understand? It’s not like I have any kids of my own I can use as a frame of reference. All I’ve got is one almost-stepchild whose mother makes it very clear she is not my daughter. “Tell me where I can find him,” I say. “Where’s my father?”    

Chapter 39: Bailey   I can’t stop shaking after Noah leaves. For a good five minutes, I sit on our bed, unable to even move. I can’t believe he walked out that way. I can’t believe after everything I’ve told him, he would really think I’d ever get back together with Theo. And I can’t believe Theo would send me flirty texts when I’ve told him there’s no chance of getting back together. Well, actually, I can believe that last one. But Lily is out there, so my days of hiding under the covers with a bucket of ice cream are over. That’s one of the hardest things about being a parent—even when you are feeling like total shit, you still have to be responsible. You can call in sick for work, but you can’t call in sick for motherhood. When I come out, Lily is still busy cleaning. The tears that sprung up when we first suggested doing this have vanished, and she’s actually done quite a good job. Noah was right—she’s capable of cleaning up her own mess. How does he understand my daughter better than I do? “Where did Noah go?” Lily asks, as she deposits a handful of glitter in the garbage. The glitter is going to be the biggest problem here. Glitter is the worst thing in the world to get rid of. When you’re single, you worry about herpes, but when you’re older with kids, you worry about glitter. I’m not sure what to say. I should have had an answer ready. “He… had to go somewhere…” She frowns. “Is he angry at me?” “No, not at all.” “But I’m cleaning!” Lily holds up her glitter-stained hands. “Tell him I’m cleaning, and that he should come back.” “It doesn’t have to do with that, honey…” “I cleaned almost everything…” Her little upturned nose starts to turn pink. She has my nose—it’s one of the few physical characteristics she’s inherited from me. “Tell him I did what he wanted. I cleaned up.” “I promise you,” I say. “He didn’t leave because of that. It was… something to do with work.” “But he banged the door when he left.”

“Well, that’s just because he was in a hurry.” Lily still looks skeptical. She’s not a dumb kid, that’s for sure. And I’m not sure how I’m going to explain it to her if Noah doesn’t come back tonight. I hope he comes back. I hope he goes for a walk or a drive and cools off, then comes home. We never, ever fight, so I don’t know the protocol. This Theo business is stirring up all this drama. As if on cue, my phone starts to ring and Theo’s name pops up on the screen. As if it wasn’t enough of a hint that I didn’t answer any of his texts. For a moment, I consider answering it and telling him to leave me the hell alone, but I don’t want to deal with him pressuring me to meet with him. So I let the phone go to voicemail. God, I hope Noah comes home tonight.  

Chapter 40: Noah   I end up spending the night in the call room at the hospital. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I meant to come home, but I couldn’t stop picturing all those goddamn texts from Theo. And it wasn’t just that. If he were her ex and he was hassling her, I could deal with that. But he’s not a random ex. He’s her daughter’s father. That means something. It sure as hell means something to me. My mother gave me my father’s phone number and an address of a location in Brooklyn where he works as a barber. I spent an hour staring at that number, trying to get up the guts to call him. I didn’t do it. I’m furious at my mother. My father wanted to see me. He wanted to be part of my life again. And she alone kept that from happening. She deprived me of all the experiences I could have had with my father. He could have been at my high college graduation. He could have seen me get my MD. He could have been there for me when I lost my legs. She ripped our family apart, as far as I’m concerned. The worst part is how it keeps coming back to Bailey and Lily. If I marry Bailey, I’m keeping Lily from having her own father in the house with her. I’m depriving her, at least partially, of the relationship she could have with him. That never bothered me in the past, because I felt like Theo wasn’t worth it, but he’s cleaned himself up. Everyone in the ER says he’s been very responsible. They could be a family again. The only thing keeping it from happening is me. There’s no getting around it. It’s a lot to wrap my head around. Bailey and I exchanged a few text messages overnight. She was silent until around seven o’clock, when she texted me: Lily wants to know if you’ll be home to read with her. That got me right in the gut. I like reading with Lily. I’m actually curious to find out what happens next in Miss Daisy is Crazy. But anyone could read with her. So I texted back: No, won’t be back. Her response came a moment later: Will you be back later tonight? And when I didn’t respond right away: Please come back. I love you. I wrote back: I love you too. I’ll be back tomorrow.

And then I slept at the hospital. Spending the night at the hospital sucks. I do get a fresh pair of scrubs to wear, and I’ve got a shift starting very early in the morning, so I don’t have time to do much besides roll out of bed and get dressed. There’s a shower that physicians are allowed to use, but I can’t do standing showers, for obvious reasons. I have a bench set up in our own shower, and I’ve actually got a portable shower bench I could have brought with me if I’d known I wasn’t coming home. So I don’t look or feel my best when I stumble into the ER to take over for the overnight docs. And it doesn’t help when Theo shows up for his shift a couple of hours later, looking fresh as a daisy and whistling a tune under his breath. Why is he so goddamn happy? “You don’t look so good, doc.” Claire settles down into a chair next to me. “Rough night?” “I’m fine,” I mumble. I’m not going to tell her I spent the night in the on-call room at the hospital. I don’t need the sympathy. “You want some coffee?” I look up at her sharply. “You’re going to get me coffee? I heard you tell more than one doctor that getting coffee is, and I quote, not your goddamn job.” “Right, it’s not,” she agrees. “But you’re my goddamn friend. And you look like you need it. Okay?” I’m not going to argue. I do need it. I already had one cup, but it didn’t take. After I get a second cup of coffee in me, I feel marginally better. Bailey hasn’t messaged me this morning, and I’m not sure what to make of it. I’ve had the whole night to think and so has she. What has she been thinking about? And more importantly, is she going to get coffee with Theo? Or “coffee”? Theo. That loser asshole. No, it was better when he was a loser asshole. Now that he’s actually trying, it makes everything a lot harder. Damn it. When I’m coming out of a patient’s room at the end of the morning, I collide with a metal cart filled with fresh linen. I try to grab onto the cart, but it isn’t enough for me to keep my balance. I go down. Hard.

“Shit, Walsh… I didn’t see you there.” Theo. Standing over me, his skinny arms folding across his chest, his bald skull reflecting the overhead lights. Turns out the linen cart was being pushed by none other than my fiancée’s ex-husband. Figures. “You need help getting up?” he asks me. I look around. Naturally, a small audience has gathered. Someone going down in the ER usually has that effect, but this is the first time it’s ever been me. (No, that’s not true. I’ve fallen before in the ER, but it’s been a while.) Theo is sticking his hand out for me to grab onto, and the truth is, I need it. Getting up off the floor isn’t easy. So I take his hand, he hauls me to my feet, and my humiliation is complete. “Watch where you’re going next time,” I mutter under my breath. Theo snorts. “Wasn’t my fault. You’re the one racing out of a room without looking where you’re going.” I lift my eyes. Is he really doing this? Is he picking a fight with me? “You pushed me over,” I say through my teeth. “You shouldn’t be going fast enough to mow someone down.” “To be fair,” Theo says, “you’re pretty easy to knock over.” He didn’t just fucking say that to me. “Listen,” I say. “All I’m saying is watch it, okay?” And I can’t stop myself from adding, “And quit harassing Bailey to go out for coffee with you.” For a moment, Theo looks stunned. He blinks a few times, but then recovers. “Why not? You jealous, Walsh?” I narrow my eyes at him. “You should be jealous.” His eyes bore into me. “I don’t even know what the hell Bailey ever saw in you. But she’s starting to realize she’s made a huge mistake.” “That’s not true.” “Of course it’s true.” He frowns at me. “You and Bailey have been together for a year, and you’re rushing her into this marriage before she can change her mind.” His eyes darken. “She’s my wife. She’s the mother of my child. And you… you stole her from me.” Well, we’ve managed to attract the attention of everyone in the room, yet again. The ER was fairly noisy a few minutes ago, but now the volume has decreased considerably. Everyone is listening in.

“I didn’t steal her from you,” I say in a low, calm voice. I need to diffuse this situation. Also, I’m the doctor. I’m the responsible one—I can’t be flying off the handle. “She was single when I met her. You two are divorced.” “But she always said if I got myself together, she’d want me back.” Theo glares at me. “And now I have. Bailey is the love of my life. She always has been. And the only thing keeping me from my wife and child— the only thing keeping us from being a family again—is you. Because of you, Lily will never have both her parents living under the same roof ever again.” Theo takes a step toward me, and that’s when I notice his right hand has balled into a fist. Christ, is he going to hit me? I’ve seen a lot of fistfights in the ER in my time here, but I never believed I’d be part of one. Well, except for the drug addict who tried to jump me last year. This is different though. And you know what? Part of me wants him to take a swing at me. I could take him. His balance might be better than mine, but he’s got those skinnyass arms and… well, there’s no comparison. I could floor him with one punch. And if he takes the first shot in front of a room full of witnesses, I can do whatever I want to him. But maybe Theo figures that out. Because he doesn’t touch me. But he leans in close to me, and says loud enough for the whole room to hear: “You wrecked my family, Walsh. And if you think I’m going down without a fight, you’ve got another thing coming.” With those words, he grabs the cart of linen and pushes past me hard enough that I almost lose my balance and fall again. I stare after him. I feel like I’m going to throw up. The only thing keeping us from being a family again is you. When I was a kid, I would have given anything to have my parents together again. To have my father back in my life. My mother kept me from having that, and now I’m keeping Lily from having that. They’re a family. One I’m not part of. I sink into a chair and bury my face in my hands. What the hell am I supposed to do? Theo said Bailey is the love of his life. I would have said the same yesterday. I love her so much. She’s the first woman I’ve ever loved. “Noah.” A hand is on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I look up. Claire. She must have seen everything. “You called me Noah,” I say. She smiles crookedly as she settles down beside me. “Yeah. Look at that.” I glance off in the direction of where Theo disappeared with the linen. “That was…” “Intense,” Claire finishes. I shake my head. “That’s one word for it.” I swallow a hard lump in my throat. “I don’t know what the hell to do. I love Bailey, but…” Claire arches an eyebrow. “What he’s saying is true,” I murmur. “I’m keeping their family apart. I’m keeping Lily from getting to live under the same roof with her father. How could I…” I rub my temples and look up at Claire. “I don’t know…” “It’s a tough one,” she agrees. “What do you think? What should I do, Claire?” She hesitates. “Honestly?” I straighten up, bracing myself. “Yes. Honestly.” “I think you should break it off with Bailey.” That sick feeling intensifies. I hadn’t really been considering ending things with Bailey—how could I? But now that the words are out there, I realize I could do this. I could end it. I could tell her the engagement is off, and that would be it. And it might be the right thing to do. “He’s Lily’s dad, Noah,” Claire says. “I know how much you care about her, but it’s just not the same. They’re a family. Do you really want to be the one who breaks that up?” She’s right. Holy shit, she’s right. I have to break up with Bailey.        

Chapter 41: Bailey   I get a text from Noah, saying that he’s hired Amber to babysit tonight. I like Amber—she doesn’t make googly eyes at Noah, unlike our other babysitter Renee. I take the whole thing as a good sign. He wants to take me out to dinner sans Lily. I’m cautiously optimistic. I felt sick when he told me he wasn’t coming home last night. He’s never done anything like that before. I knew it was a bad fight that brought up issues he’s most insecure about, but at the same time, it was just an argument. You have an argument, you make up, then you have great makeup sex. But he never came home. So we never made up and we never got to have makeup sex. We’re supposed to meet at the Italian restaurant three blocks from the apartment. I don’t know why we’re not going together, but I’m assuming he had to work late. It’s good though, because it gives me an opportunity to doll myself up without him looking on. Whenever he’s around, he’ll say things like, “You look pretty without any makeup.” Which is not helpful! Everyone looks better with makeup—it’s just a fact. So I get out my short black dress that earned me two catcalls from construction workers last time I wore it. I use my curling iron that takes forever, but makes my hair look ridiculously sleek and shiny. And I put on the new lipstick I bought last week in a rare insane moment of wanting to treat myself to something nice. Noah is always saying I ought to treat myself more, but it’s hard to break old habits. I’m feeling pretty good about myself when I strut out into the living room, where Lily and Amber are watching television. Lily looks at me, sticks her fingers in her mouth, and lets out a loud whistle. Noah taught her how to do that a couple of months ago. For a good two weeks, I had to walk around with my fingers in my ears. “You look pretty, Mommy,” Lily says. Amber lifts her eyes from the television and grins. “Yeah, you look really hot, Bailey.” “Why, thank you.” I do a little spin. “It’s nothing special.” “Hot date?”

I grin. “Of course.” I kiss Lily goodbye, tell Amber I shouldn’t be gone more than a couple of hours, then race out the door because I’m now running a bit late. Fortunately, the spring weather is on my side—we haven’t reached that point in June where my hair frizzes up five seconds after setting foot outside. The Italian restaurant Noah picked is nearby, but not one we visit much. The last time we ate there, several months earlier, we decided the food was mediocre. I’m not entirely sure why he picked it, other than it’s close. Sure enough, Noah is already waiting at a table when I get into the restaurant. I’m surprised to see he’s just wearing a clean gray T-shirt and jeans. Not that he always dresses up, but he says he feels like you shouldn’t go to a decent restaurant in jeans and a T-shirt. Yet there he is in just that, while I’m suddenly feeling extremely overdressed in my little black dress. A waitress stops to talk to Noah, and I almost laugh when she rests a hand on his shoulder. Waitresses always flirt like crazy with Noah, as do all women. I doubt that will ever change. I have a feeling he’s the kind of man who will only get sexier as he ages. I’m looking forward to it, even though it’s hard to imagine him being sexier than he is now. I approach the table, giving myself a pat on the back at the way his eyes widen when he sees my dress. After only a few months of dating Theo, I never got that kind of reaction from him anymore, yet Noah and I have been together for over a year and he still acts like he can’t get over how hot I am. Then again, I feel the same way whenever Noah dresses up. God, that man gets to me. I’m so glad we’re making up. I can’t wait for the makeup sex. “Bailey,” he manages. “You look…” I smile. “Yes?” “Nice.” His smile is crooked. “You look nice.” As I settle into the seat across from him, he takes a long swig of the wine in front of him, nearly emptying the glass. Noah’s not a big drinker because he’s so freaked out about ending up like his father. Usually when he drinks, it’ll be one beer or one glass of wine over the whole evening. This is different. “Listen,” I say, “about last night…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says quickly. “Oh.” I press my hands between my legs. Noah is acting really odd. Just the fact that he hasn’t made a move to kiss me yet is odd. Usually, he’s all over me. “Um, okay. But I just wanted to tell you—” “Bailey, this isn’t working,” he blurts out. My stomach sinks. This isn’t working. Did I hear him right? “What do you mean?” I ask carefully. “I mean…” His eyes are downcast, looking at the tablecloth. “I don’t think… we shouldn’t get married. It’s a bad idea.” My breath catches in my throat. He can’t be serious. I look down at my left fourth digit—I didn’t put on the engagement ring today. I’m anxious about wearing diamonds outside of the house. Now I wish I had worn it. “But… why? I don’t understand.” “It’s something I’ve been thinking about lately.” His eyes still won’t meet mine. “Like, where I see myself in ten years. And with everything that’s happened lately, I can’t picture you there with me.” There’s a buzzing sound in my ears, and my head is swimming. This can’t be happening. No. No. Noah and I were meant to be together. He always said so, and it’s what I’ve always believed in my heart. Why is he doing this? “So you want to postpone the engagement?” “No,” he says, finally lifting his blue eyes. “I want to break up.”        

Chapter 42: Noah   When Bailey walked into the restaurant, I almost lost my resolve. She looked beautiful. No, beyond beautiful. And I thought back to the first time I ever saw her, when she drove out to the university all by herself in that rented Dodge Caravan, and was struggling to carry a box so big she couldn’t see around it. I went over to help her, being the nice guy I am, and when she lowered that box, I was gone. I saw her face, and I loved her right away. Eighteen years old, no makeup, face pink with exertion, hair in a messy ponytail, and she was the most perfect girl I’d ever laid eyes on. I never wanted anyone else after that. And I still don’t. But that’s selfish. I know what it’s like to grow up in a broken family, and if there’s a chance Lily doesn’t have to grow up that way, she shouldn’t have to. I don’t want Lily to resent the guy who came in and kept her father away. So that’s why I have to end it. It’s the right thing to do. It’s the only thing to do. “I want to break up,” I tell Bailey, the only woman I’ve ever truly loved. I’ve broken up with women before, sometimes for dumb reasons. Hey, I’m not a saint. And it’s never, ever easy. But it’s a million times harder to break up with a woman I love. “Noah,” she breathes. “You don’t mean that.” “I’m sorry, Bailey,” I say. “I think this is for the best.” “Does this have to do with Theo?” Her eyes are filling with tears. “Because I swear to you, nothing happened.” Nothing has happened… yet. But it will. It’s just a matter of time. “I know. I believe you. It’s not about that.” “So why then?” I can’t tell her the real reason. If I do, she’ll insist we stay together. I have to make it about me. I have to hurt her now. It’s the only way. “I just started thinking about it,” I say. “And… I think we got into this relationship because I needed to prove myself. You dumped me because I lost my legs. I wanted to prove to myself I could get you back. But then

after you agreed to marry me, there was nothing left to prove.” I lean back in my seat. “I mean, how could I marry you after what you did to me all those years ago?” If I was trying to hurt her, I’ve done it. I see it all over her face. It’s ripping me apart. I want to tell her I didn’t mean any of that. I just want her to be fucking happy. She reaches for the napkin in front of her and squeezes it between her fingers. “You said you’d forgiven me for that.” “Well, I haven’t.” “And you just realized that right now?” “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a little while now.” I shrug, trying to act like I couldn’t care less, even though I’m dying inside. “I thought it was better to end it now, before things went too far.” “You mean like before we moved in together?” she practically spits at me. “Before you asked me to marry you? Before my daughter…” She can’t even complete the sentence, and I’m glad she doesn’t. She can’t make me feel guilty about Lily. I’m doing this partially for Lily. I’m giving up two people I love so they can be happy. Bailey stands up so abruptly, her chair topples over behind her. People are starting to turn and look at us now. It’s obvious to everyone I’m breaking up with her. Everyone in this restaurant hates me. Well, except for that waitress who tried to slip me her number before my date arrived. “Your ring is back in the apartment,” she says, her voice shaking. “In case you want it.” Christ, if I have to go through giving her ring back to me a second time, it might kill me. “Keep it.” “I don’t want it.” “Then donate it to charity.” “Right. Charity. Great.” She looks around the restaurant. “And where are Lily and I supposed to go now?” “You can stay put.” I went to the apartment while she was gone and grabbed enough stuff to get me through the week and stashed it in a hotel room. And I also removed anything valuable that she might destroy in a fit of anger. “I’ve made other arrangements for myself.” “I can’t afford the rent on my own, you know.” “Well, I’ll pay it until you figure something else out then.” She stands over me for a moment. My heart is thudding in my chest.

“Will you please be honest, Noah?” Her eyes shine with tears that haven’t fallen. “Tell me why you’re doing this. You at least owe me that.” I wish she wouldn’t talk to me in that broken voice. It would be better if she cursed me out in front of the whole restaurant. Screamed at me. Told me she hated me. She’ll be better off without me. That, I could handle. “I told you the reason,” I say in a flat voice that belies everything I’m feeling inside. She stares at me, waiting. Hoping I might change my mind? If she stands there another minute, I just might. I want her so badly, I’m not sure there’s enough willpower in my body. One more minute and she will break me. I’ll never be able to let her go. And then two seconds before I’m about to crack, her shoulders sag. “Fine,” she breathes. With that final word, she grabs her purse, gives me one last look, and storms out.        

Chapter 43: Bailey   He broke up with me. Noah broke up with me. I can’t wrap my head around it. I thought… when we reconnected, I felt like that was it. I was back with the man I was meant to be with. And I assumed he felt the exact same way. How could I have been so wrong? I cry all the way home. It’s humiliating to be openly sobbing on the street. I wish I hadn’t worn so much makeup because it’s leaking everywhere. Waterproof mascara, my ass. I don’t know how I’ll ever stop crying. There’s a horrible feeling in my chest that I can’t get rid of. This is how I felt when my mother died. This awful gnawing emptiness that the person I loved most in the world was gone. Admittedly, Lily is the person I love most in the world now, but Noah is up there. And now that he said those things—looked me in the eyes and told me he didn’t want me—I feel like there’s a hole in my chest. It’s awful. My divorce was actually easier. Because when it ended, I didn’t love him. I can’t turn it off. I can’t stop loving Noah just because he said those things. There’s part of me that’s hoping he’s just freaked out about the wedding and maybe he’ll change his mind back. That’s what this must—a panic attack. I don’t believe his story about our relationship being some sort of elaborate revenge plot to get back at me for leaving him when we were younger. There’s something else going on. I know it. Noah Walsh is a good man. I have no clue what is going through his head right now, but he’s the best person I’ve ever known. He’s the love of my life. I will never, ever find anyone like him ever again. I’ve got to find a way to fix this. The last thing I want is to return home less than half an hour after I left with red, puffy eyes. It will be obvious to Amber what just happened. But at the same time, I don’t want to stand on the street sobbing. So I have no choice but to go upstairs. Amber and Lily are sitting on the couch when I return. They’re reading one of Lily’s books, which is awesome. Lily has still been difficult about

reading with me, but she’s making phenomenal progress with Noah. Or she was. “Mommy!” Lily screeches when she sees me. She leaps off the couch, practically levitating with excitement. “Amber and I just read another chapter. You know what that means? I get a chip!” “Oh,” I say weakly. I don’t have the energy to get excited over this. “I have fifty chips!” She jumps up and down. “You have to tell Noah! He said he’s going to buy me an ant farm when I have fifty chips and I got ‘em. I got fifty chips!” Amber has noticed the look on my face by now. She comes over to Lily and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Lily, honey… let’s give your mom a little space, okay?” “But I have fifty chips!” Lily insists. “Where’s Noah? I want to tell him!” “He’s…” I swallow a lump in my throat, using all my willpower to suppress more tears from falling. “He had to go away for a little while, Lily.” Her face falls. “For how long? Till tomorrow?” “No, probably longer. It’s going to be a while.” “But…” She looks down at her socks, which have little ducks on them. “I have fifty chips. Noah said he’d get me an ant farm.” “I’ll get you the ant farm.” Lord help me—I do not want ants in my house, but I’m going to keep this promise. “But Noah said he’d get it for me.” Lily’s eyes fill with tears. “He said he was going to help me set it up. And I’ve got fifty chips.” “I know, Lily, but—” “I have fifty chips!” The tears overflow and fall down her cheeks. “We were going to get the ant farm when I got fifty chips.” “And I said I’d get it for you…” “No.” She shakes her head vigorously. “I want to get it with Noah. Tell him to come back. He promised.” And now she’s outright sobbing. I bend down and take my daughter into my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder, her tears making my black dress damp. “I have fifty chips,” she murmurs into my hair. “He promised.” He promised a lot to me too, Lily.  

     

Chapter 44: Noah   What the hell am I doing? I’m going eighty across the Brooklyn Bridge. I haven’t been to Brooklyn since my mother moved to Queens with Bailey’s dad. I grew up there, but it feels like another life. Brooklyn has, after all, changed a lot in the last twenty years. The building where I spent my childhood has been torn down and the whole neighborhood has gotten so upscale, we never could have afforded to live there. The neighborhood where my father cuts hair for a living isn’t as rich as that, but it’s not so bad that I’m worried my car will get ripped off if I leave it for more than ten minutes. I don’t think I’ll get mugged, but you never know. And I have no idea how long I’m going to be out here. I’m not sure what possessed me to jump in my car and make this drive, without bothering to check with my father to make sure he’d be there or give him a heads up I’d be coming. I guess I thought there was a reasonable chance I’d change my mind on the way over. The last twelve hours have been rough. I was in a daze after Bailey stormed out on me at the restaurant. I felt sick, like I wanted to throw up, but I knew that wouldn’t make me feel any better. Nothing would. The first time she left, it took months. Maybe it’ll be quicker this time. Except I know it won’t. If anything, it will be worse. I pull up right in front of my father’s barber shop. The street is mostly empty so I get good parking without having to resort to using my plates. I’ve been using my cane most of the time when I walk around these days, just to keep the pressure off my right limb, but I leave it in the car now. I don’t want my father to see. I linger outside the glass door, peering inside. There’s a man within the shop, sweeping at the ground. He’s older—about the right age to be my father. Is that him? Or is it some other barber? Only one way to find out. The door jingles when I open it. The whole shop smells like cleaning fluid, which isn’t a terrible smell for a barber shop. The man sweeping the floor looks up and…

Christ, it’s him. It’s my father. He looks old. So much older than my mother. He’s got to be in his midsixties, but he looks eighty. His hair is sparse and gray, there are large bags under his eyes, and veins form a map of spider webs on his face. His nose used to look like mine, but it’s bloated to twice its original size. That’s what years of drinking will do to you. But even so, he’s recognizable from the photographs and my memories of him. And what I see when I look in a mirror. “Can I help you?” my father asks. He doesn’t recognize me. I touch my face, feeling the beginning of a beard. I haven’t shaved in two days, which disguises my appearance, and that aside, he hasn’t seen me in almost twenty-five years. “I, uh…” I’m your son. “I’d like a haircut.” “Oh.” He looks around the store, at all the empty chairs. A small television screen in the corner of the room broadcasts a basketball game. “Well, we’re pretty busy. Looking at maybe an hour wait.” I stare at him. “I’m joking.” He cracks a smile at me, showing off his yellow teeth. My head swims with déjà vu. I remember that smile. “You can go ahead and sit down. What’s your name?” I’m Noah. Your son. “John.” “All right, John.” He gestures at one of the empty stools, since I’m just standing there. “My name’s Mike. Have a seat, please.” I do as he says, settling down awkwardly into one of the barber chairs. I stare at my own reflection and wince. I’ve barely slept the last two days and it shows. My hair is disheveled, I’ve got purple circles under my eyes, and the beard makes me look like a hobo. Needing a haircut is the least of my problems. “You want a shave too?” my father asks me as he wraps a drape around my shoulders. “No, thanks.” If I’m clean-shaven, he might recognize me. Not that it would be so terrible. In fact, I’m not sure why I haven’t told him it’s me. But I know I want it to be on my own terms. He runs his hand lightly through my hair. “How short you want it?” I study the haircuts demonstrated on the poster hung on the wall. “I’ll take number three.”

The man who calls himself Mike and is actually my dad gets to work. He spritzes my head with lukewarm water, then gets out his scissors. Given his history of drinking, I’m worries his hands will shake, but they don’t. His hands are very steady. “You live around here, John?” he asks. Who? Oh wait, I’m John. “Uh, yeah. Not too far.” “How’d you hear about the place?” Christ, that Brooklyn accent is thick. Was it always like that? I grew up here, but I don’t have a pronounced accent. I think the more education you get, the less likely you are to end up with an accent. That said, I’m sure people from, say, Georgia would figure out where I’m from. “Just sort of… saw it passing by.” He nods. “Good to know.” He starts snipping at my hair with a scissors. He’s doing an okay job. I don’t really care, unless he butchers it so badly, I can’t go to work. Then again, I could just shave my head like Theo. “Good head of hair,” he comments. “Thanks.” The color of my hair—dark blond—is the same as his used to be at the same age. “I bet your wife is glad you’re not going bald.” I cough into my fist. “I’m not married.” He grins. One of his incisors is noticeably rotting. “Oh yeah? So keeping your options open then? Good for you—you’re still young.” My father kept his options open even when he was married with a kid. But I can’t exactly say that without telling him who I am. So instead, I say, “Are you married?” He hesitates, his hand on the electric razor. “No.” “Oh.” “Used to be.” My eyes meet his briefly in the mirror. “Yeah?” “I messed it up,” he says. “Had something good, and I blew it with my own damn stupidity.” “Sorry to hear that.” He studies my profile for a moment, then he shrugs. “Well, that’s life. You win some, you lose some.” He trims the back of my hair using the razor. “You sure you don’t want a shave, kid? You could use one.” “No, I’m good.”

He continues trimming my hair, but after a second, he yells, “Damn it!” I nearly jump out of my chair. Not that I can do that so easily. “What?” “Aw, sorry, kid.” He pats my shoulder. “I got distracted by the game. Can’t believe Knox missed that shot.” I glance up at the television screen. The Knicks are playing the Lakers. “He’s usually a pretty good shot.” He smiles again, and this time it lights up his face, making him look ten years younger. “You a Knicks fan?” “Hell, yeah.” I get the longest haircut in the history of the world while we chat about the Knicks and all the other inferior teams they’ve played this year. I played basketball a lot in college, although was never good enough to be professional or even close, but I still like to watch. Bailey teases me that she could parade around naked while the Knicks are playing and I’d never notice. My father gives me a decent haircut. He shows me the back using his little mirror, and it’s all fine. He pulls off the drape he had wrapped around me, and I carefully get to my feet. “You happy?” he asks. With the haircut? Sure. “Yeah, looks good.” I follow him to the cash register. “What do I owe you?” “No charge, Noah.” “Oh, but…” I start to protest, but then I realize he isn’t calling me John anymore. His watery blue eyes meet mine. “Uh, when did you figure it out?” “The second you walked in the door.” He smiles crookedly. “I’ve seen pictures. They got that really good one of you on the website for your hospital. I showed that one to all my friends. Told them, ‘Look how goodlooking my kid is. And a doctor!’ No thanks to me, of course.” He looked up photos of me online. And showed them to everyone he knows. He’s proud of me. “Also,” he adds, “you look just like I did. Like looking in a mirror thirty years ago.” I run a hand through my newly shorn hair. “Yeah…” He arches a bushy gray eyebrow at me. “Gwen told me you were going to come looking for me. I was hoping she was right.”

“I…” My throat feels dry all of a sudden. “I found out… I mean, she told me you’d been wanting to see me for a long time. Like, since I was a teenager.” He nods solemnly. “That’s true.” “She said you were there when I…” I look down at my legs. I’m wearing long pants that cover up my secret, aside from the limp I’ll never get rid of. “I got to hold your hand until you woke up.” He scratches at the stubble on his own chin. “I thought for sure you wouldn’t make it. And I thought to myself… I really fucked up. All those years I could have been there, and I wasn’t.” “But Mom kept you away…” “Sure she did.” There isn’t a trace of resentment in his eyes. “I was a mess. And a lousy dad. She was better off alone than with me. So were you.” “But after my accident…” “I was at my worst then.” He grits his teeth. “I was over the limit the whole drive to the hospital, scared I’d get pulled over and the cops would toss me in jail. And then I woulda missed my chance to say goodbye to you. But I got to the hospital, and you… you made it.” He coughs into his hand —a wet smoker’s cough. I don’t remember my father smoking, but now I hear the rasp in his voice. A smoker and a drinker. One coronary under his belt. Based on what I see in the ER, he won’t live much longer. “Gwen told me I couldn’t be part of your life till I cleaned myself up. I coulda tried taking her to court, but she was right.” “It wasn’t her decision to make.” “Sure it was.” He places a hand on the counter, and I notice for the first time the swollen joint in his left thumb. A gout tophi. It’s hard not to look at the guy and make a million diagnoses. “Your mother is a smart lady. You think you got your smarts from me? Not a chance. She knew it would mess you up to see me, and I believed her. And I tried my best to get myself cleaned up, but… well, it wasn’t easy. Every time I got on the wagon, I kept falling off.” “But…” I bite my lip. “You’re my father.” “Well, you got half my genes.” He shrugs. “The better half, I think. But so what? I wasn’t much of a father to you. And I’m sorry for that, Noah. I’m really sorry. I just… I wanted to say that to you before it was too late.”

I don’t know what to say. I thought he’d be as pissed off at my mother as I am, but he isn’t. He thinks she was right. He thinks I was better off without him in my life. And maybe I was. I remember those first ten years when he was around but not really. I could never count on him for anything. He barely seemed to know I existed. I kept getting my hopes up over and over… My thoughts stray to Theo. Of all the times he kept Lily waiting. The look on her face when he blew her off yet again. Bailey’s anger mixed with a lack of surprise. This is what he does. This is what he’s like. Did I make a mistake? I thought I was doing the best thing for Bailey and Lily, but… “I know it’s a lot to ask,” my father’s voice interrupts my thoughts, “but I’m hoping we could… well, I know we’ll never have a normal fatherson relationship, but maybe… do you think we could watch a Knicks game together sometime?” I nod. “I think we could.” He grins at me, showing off that one rotting tooth. I want to give him money to see a dentist, but I know I shouldn’t. “Hey, I gotta ask you,” he says. “Yeah?” “Can I see the…” He gestures at my legs. “You know.” I laugh for the first time since I came in here. I pull up my pants legs to nearly my knees so he can see everything. He lets out a low whistle. “Wow. What’ll they come up with next?”        

Chapter 45: Bailey   I hardly sleep without Noah in the bed with me. In college, when we slept in the same bed together, he used to kick me, and it sometimes kept me awake. Of course, he can’t do that anymore. Now the annoying thing he does in his sleep is he snores softly, especially if he’s had a drink. There are times when I’m trying to sleep and I have to shove him to get him to stop. God, I miss his snoring. I do eventually doze off around five in the morning, only to be shaken away by Lily. She’s standing over me, staring with her big brown eyes. The clock next to my bed says six-thirty. “Mom, I’m hung,” Lily says. That is Lily’s shorthand for saying she’s hungry. She doesn’t know the word has another meaning. Noah thinks it’s hilarious. Or at least, he used to. “Just a minute,” I mumble into my pillow. “Hung! Hung!” she cries. If Noah were here, he’d already be awake and he’d get up with her. As if I needed one more reason to miss him. Lily gives me a moment to pee before I have to make her breakfast. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and it isn’t pretty. When I was fifteen, I could sob over a boy all night and look fine the next day. But now my eyes are really puffy and my nose is still swollen. Why does being in your thirties mean you can’t cry without looking like a monster the next day? When I’m my forties, it will take a week to look normal again after crying. I wish I could make Lily some cereal and go back to sleep, but she’s as traumatized as I am by Noah leaving, so she makes me sit next to her on the couch. We cuddle together under a blanket, and eventually, I drift off again in the middle of an episode of Alvin and the Chipmunks where Alvin seems to be cross-dressing. I jerk awake to the sound of the doorbell ringing. I rub my eyes. Noah? Is that Noah? Did he come back? But no. Why would he ring the doorbell? He’s got a key.

I pad over to the door, my heart pounding, hoping it’s him even though I know it can’t be. I check the peephole and see Theo’s bald head. Shit. I forgot he’s supposed to be picking Lily up this morning. I throw open the door, remembering too late that I’m wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt. Theo blinks a few times at the sight of me, then a smile spreads across his face. “Well, hello there, Bailey.” “Let me change,” I mumble, pushing past him to scurry off to the bedroom. I toss on a bra and a sweatshirt, and pair it with my most comfortable jeans. I run a quick brush through my hair, although I’m not entirely sure why I bother. When I come back, Theo is sitting on the couch with Lily. I want to scream at him to get off our couch, but I keep my mouth shut. Theo lifts his eyes to look me over. “I liked you better before.” I roll my eyes. “Thanks.” He shifts on the couch. “Lily says Noah took off.” I shoot Lily an accusing look. Why would she tell him that? Why? “It’s… temporary.” “So it’s true then?” He gets to his feet and takes a step toward me. “The Boy Scout broke up with you?” “It’s complicated,” I say, even though he’s got it exactly right. “He did, didn’t he?” Theo shakes his head. “Holy shit.” I turn my head away. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” “You’re better off without him, Bailey.” Theo takes another step toward me. “You know that, right?” “How?” I glare at him. “How am I better off without him?” “Do I even have to tell you?” He snorts. “For starters, he could barely walk. He thought he knew everything—always had to be right. You don’t know what he was like in the ER. It was so irritating.” He takes another step in my direction and this time I step back. “Also, he was fucking one of the ER nurses.” “Yeah, whatever.” “It’s true,” he insists. “This little blond number named Claire. Real pretty, but on the old side.” Claire. I know Claire, of course. She’s the charge nurse who Noah always says great things about. I’ve met her multiple times, and yes, she’s pretty. She looks like she was poured into her scrubs. But there’s an edge about her that I could imagine someone like Noah finding appealing.

Actually, I could totally see Noah hooking up with her. “He’s probably with her right now,” Theo says. “He’s not.” “Yeah, well, where’s he staying then?” I don’t know the answer to that question, which is very unsettling. Could he be with Claire? Could that be the reason why he suddenly up and left? He works with her all the time. She’s his favorite nurse—he’s never said it, but I can tell. Maybe he confided in her because he thought I was sneaking around with Theo, and when she was comforting him… A month ago, I would have said not a chance. But I never would have thought Noah would do what he did last night. “You’re better off without him,” Theo says again. “I’m telling you, Bailey, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” “Oh yeah? Why is that?” He reaches out to take my hand. “Because now we can be a family again. You, me, and Lily.” I yank my hand away from his. “I don’t want that.” “Why not?” He frowns. “You see how I’ve changed. I’ve got a steady job. I’m on time for Lily. I even came to that stupid dance recital.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry.” He looks at me for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Fine. I can see it’s going to take some convincing. But I’m not going to give up that easily.” The resolve in my ex-husband’s eyes is familiar. It’s even sexy—just a little bit. Would it be possible to fall back in love with him after everything that’s happened between us? Could I ever consider marrying this man again? The answer is yes. I could. If I hadn’t met Noah. Now that Noah is back in my life, no other man could compare. No other man could make me happy. Theo could never compare. He could never make me feel the way Noah does. I will always be comparing, and Theo will always come up short. But Noah hasn’t chosen me. He’s made a decision to exclude me from his life. God, I wonder if he’s with Claire. I feel sick.

“You don’t have to decide anything now,” Theo says. “But maybe tonight you’ll meet me at Mickey’s. Nine o’clock.” “Mickey’s?” Mickey’s is a bar in the village that we used to frequent a lot in our pre-Lily days. “Where is Lily going to be? You can’t take her there.” “My mother is going to watch her.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal at all that he’s leaving Lily with another person on one of his few nights with her. But I suppose she’ll enjoy a night with her Grandma Sue. “Why are you going to Mickey’s though?” I ask. Theo’s face lights up. “That’s the best part. Mickey’s is paying us to play at the bar.” My stomach sinks. I thought I couldn’t feel any worse after Noah walked out on me, but here it is. “You told me the band broke up.” “Bailey, do you understand what I’m telling you?” He throws his hands up in the air. “We got a regular paying gig! If this pans out, I can quit that shitty hospital job.” “Yes, but…” I don’t want to sound like a broken record. “You told me the band broke up.” Not just that, but he promised the band would break up. “Everything’s different now though.” He grins at me. “It’s because of my new look. I gotta thank Walsh for that one—he’s the one who insisted I cut my hair before he’d recommend me for a job. Anyway, the chicks dig it big time. And they’re my fan base.” “Wonderful,” I mutter. “It’s not too late for me to make it as a musician.” He gets that wistful look in his eyes that I’ve grown to hate. “I mean, if you were trying to make it, I mean… no way. But for a man, it’s never too late. You got the right look, you can make it at any age.” Well, it’s good to know I’m well past my prime. “I just feel like you promised you were going to quit the band so you could be around more for Lily, and now you’re going back on that promise.” He squints at me. “And I feel like you’re not getting how big an opportunity this is for me.” “Guess not.” We stare at each other. It would be so easy to get back together with Theo—he wants it, and it would make us a family again. But even if he’s made small changes, he’s still the same guy I married then later divorced.

He’s not The One. Noah is The One if there ever was one. But I have no idea if that ship has sailed.          

Chapter 46: Noah   There’s nothing good about living in a hotel. I don’t even enjoy the linen being changed every day, because Bailey does that anyway most days at home. And the room service doesn’t compare to Bailey’s cooking. Of course, I’m not a bad cook myself either. I got a call from the hotel management, asking me if I’d like to partake in a massage. It’s not a terrible idea—I’ve been sleeping so awful that every muscle in my body is achy—but I don’t want to have to explain to a masseuse the whole double amputee thing. Sometimes it’s funny to see people’s reactions, but right now, I’m not in the mood. I’ve got a shift today starting in the early afternoon. I’m looking forward to it because it will get my mind off my personal life. Ever since I met with my father yesterday, I can’t stop thinking about Bailey and whether or not I made the right decision. I love her. Maybe Theo loves her too, but I think I’d be a better husband. I don’t know what the hell to do. Then again, it’s too late. I doubt she’d take me back. I wonder if Theo already made his move. At around eleven in the morning, my phone buzzes with a text. My heart leaps, hoping it’s Bailey. If she says anything encouraging, I’m going to get her back. That’s how I’ll decide. But it isn’t Bailey. It’s Claire. Hanging in there? I stare at the screen for a moment before writing back: Barely. You’ve got a shift this afternoon, right? Yep. Want to grab lunch? I hesitate. I don’t feel like being social now, but it’s not like that with Claire. I’ve known her for years, and I don’t have to be “on” when I’m around her. I can vent to her about Bailey and share my misgivings about the whole thing. She’ll listen. So I wrote back: Sure. An hour later, I’m sliding across from Claire at a booth at a bistro a few blocks away from the hospital. I’m dressed in my scrubs, but she isn’t. She’s wearing a fitted blue top that makes her eyes look very blue. I never

even realized she had blue eyes before. It also makes her boobs look great, but that’s the least of my concerns right now. Claire gives me a funny look when I sit down. “Let me guess,” I say. “I look like shit, right?” “Well,” she says, “you look tired.” She slides a menu across the table at me. “Order something that will make you feel better.” “I can’t.” She raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? You work out all the time. You can spare a few calories.” “I don’t work out all the time.” I roll my eyes. “And anyway, my cholesterol is shit. I’m gonna be one of those guys who comes in clutching his chest in ten years if I’m not careful.” “So what? Just carry around some nitro pills.” I manage a laugh. “That’s your answer to everything.” “Okay, if you’re not going to order a big fat greasy cheeseburger, at least get something with a lot of alcohol.” “Uh, you know I’ve got a shift coming up.” A smile plays on her lips. “You’re no fun, Noah.” Noah. She’s calling me by my name finally. A small win. I lean forward and rub my temples with my fingers. “I can’t stop thinking about Bailey. I think I fucked up. I never should have broken up with her.” Claire blinks a few times. “You really feel that way?” “Yeah. I do.” “But you remember why you did it, right?” She gets up from her side of the booth and slides into my side. She smells good, like flowers—it must be her shampoo. “You wanted Lily to grow up with her own father in the house. You didn’t want to break up the family.” “Right.” I sigh. “I know. I just…” I’m being selfish. But I can’t stop thinking about Bailey. Claire holds my eyes with hers. “It was the right thing to do.” “Maybe,” I mumble. “Definitely.” A waiter comes to our table to take our drink orders. Claire gets a glass of white wine. I ask for a water, but she says, “He’ll have the same.” “Claire,” I murmur. “I’ve got to work.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Noah. It’s one drink.” Yeah, but it’s not like I’m a computer programmer or something where I can operate with a fuzzy brain. I’m not touching that drink. By the time our drinks come, Claire has managed to distract me by telling me some work gossip. One of the nurse’s aides was caught making out with a physician’s assistant in an empty patient room two nights ago. It’s a huge deal because the PA is married with two little kids at home. The ER has more drama than any soap opera. They ought to make a show about an ER or something. Oh wait, there was a show like that, wasn’t there? Shit, my brain is off. She takes a big gulp of her wine and smiles at me. I still won’t touch my drink. “Feeling better?” “Yeah. A little.” “Good.” She winks at me. “I can always cheer you up.” She’s still on the same side of the booth as me. I’d slid over to make room for her, but now she’s slid closer to me, and there’s nowhere for me to go. She’s really close to me. Close enough that I can see the mascara slightly caked on her right eyelashes. “I bet,” she says in a low voice, “I can make you forget all about Bailey.” The look on her face is unmistakable. “Claire,” I gasp. “Listen to me, Noah.” She rests a hand on my forearm. I’m too stunned to shake her off. “I’m the one who fucked up. When you asked me to dinner all those years ago, I freaked out because I had just gotten out of a relationship with a douchebag doctor who did a number on my head, and I figured you’d be the same way. I’ve been regretting it ever since.” My heart is slamming in my chest. “I don’t know what to say…” “I made a huge mistake.” She shakes her head. “The more I got to know you, I realized you were the greatest guy I’d ever met. Smart, considerate, funny, and… well, sexy as hell.” She heaves a sigh. “I was working up to telling you how I felt, but then you met Bailey and all of a sudden, you were just… gone. Like, instantly.” “I was in love with her…” “And I was in love with you.” Her hand slides down my arm, covering my hand. “I am in love with you. I’ve barely dated in the last two years

because I can’t stop thinking about you. No other guy can live up. I mean, you have to admit, we’re perfect for each other.” It’s funny because I had so much trouble shaking my crush on Claire. It took a while. And if the week before Bailey came back into my life, she’d said all this to me, I would have dragged her into the on-call room (or an empty patient room) and screwed her brains out. But it’s too late. There’s only one woman I can think about anymore. I shake her hand off mine and edge away from her best I can in the small space. “I’m sorry, Claire. I just can’t… not now.” Maybe not ever. She narrows her eyes at me. “Why are you so hung up on her? I told you—she’s better off with her ex.” I look at Claire’s face, at the fine lines around her eyes. “Why do you keep saying that? Did you want me to break up with her?” “No! I meant it.” My jaw tightens. “I’m not so sure you did.” “I just think Bailey isn’t right for you.” I don’t want to be here anymore. I always liked and respected Claire, but it looks like I misjudged her. I look at her, blocking the exit to the booth. “Get up. I want to leave.” “Noah…” “I’m sorry. I need to think.” She shakes her head at me and slides out of the booth, getting back to her feet. I do the same, although it takes me more effort than it does for her. My right leg throbs slightly, and I regret not bringing my cane with me. Why didn’t I bring it? Was I trying to impress Claire? Maybe I was. Her brows knit together. “What are you going to do?” “I don’t know,” I mumble. “Are you going to get back together with Bailey?” “I don’t know.” Claire puts a hand on her hip and snorts. “That woman has no clue how lucky she is. What is she? She’s nothing. You only like her because you’ve known her since you were a kid.” “That’s not true.” And that’s the only thing I know for sure. I’ve known a lot of women in my life, but I’ve never known anyone else like Bailey. I’ve never felt that

way about any other woman. And I never will again.      

Chapter 47: Bailey   While grocery shopping, I nearly break down crying. Theo is dropping off Lily in an hour, before he has to go to work, so I figured I should stock up on groceries before she gets here. Not that Lily can’t come with me on a grocery-shopping trip, because she obviously can, but it’s a surprising struggle. She always wants to push the cart, which would be fine, but she can’t steer it for the life of her. So we tend to leave a wake of destruction after we finish shopping. Noah knew this, so whenever he’d pick me up at work or the two of us were alone together, he’d ask me if I needed anything from the grocery store. It was such a mundane little detail about our lives together, but I loved that he did that. I loved how into domestic life he was. Especially after dealing with Theo, who felt like picking up a pack of Huggies on the way home was beyond him. On one hand, Noah was a glamorous and handsome emergency room doctor, but on the other hand, he was always eager to head to the grocery store because we were low on toilet paper or milk. If things had gone a different way, I know he would have been happy to change diapers. Well, not happy, but he wouldn’t have acted like I was subjecting him to cruel and unusual punishment. It’s that down-to-earth side of Noah that I miss the most. When I get to the dairy aisle, I remember a conversation I had with Noah a few weeks ago when we were in this very spot. I miss pink milk, he said wistfully as he gazed at a carton of strawberryflavored milk. Do you want me to buy it? No! Bailey, my cholesterol… Will the pink milk raise your cholesterol? It’s got saturated fat, so yes, it will! Well, how about if we get skim milk and I buy some strawberry powder? He thought about it for a moment, then he kissed me. A kiss that was a little too intense for the middle of a grocery store. Let’s do it.

We bought the strawberry powder, which Noah had once before declaring, “Okay, there’s a reason why adults don’t drink pink milk.” Lily ended up finishing the strawberry powder. Rather quickly, actually. I miss Noah being cute at the grocery store. I miss spending time with him. I wish we’d never gotten back together if this was going to happen. It’s almost more than I can take. I’ve got to call him. Maybe we can figure this out. I hoof it back to the apartment with two bags of groceries. I’ve got another hour before Lily returns—and that’s if Theo shows up on time. I’ll call Noah as soon as I get back. If he doesn’t answer, I’ll text him and insist we find a time to talk. When I’m nearly back at the apartment, I pass a bistro where Noah and I have eaten several times. I glance at the windows that make up the storefront and nearly do a double-take. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Noah is sitting at one of the booths with a glass of wine in front of him. And Claire the Nurse sitting next to him. Not across from him. Next to him. Theo was right. Goddamn it. I had thought maybe Noah was having some kind of internal crisis that I could talk him through. But no. Noah dumped me for the oldest reason in the book: he fell for someone else. I get as close as I can before I risk being spotted. Claire looks really pretty, with her shiny blond hair loose around her face, and she’s got on some low-cut blouse. When I’ve seen her in the ER, she’s always looked really no-nonsense, but now she’s downright sexy. She’s got her hand on Noah’s arm and she’s inches away from him. It’s hard to imagine this is innocent. It’s all true—everything Theo said. Noah’s been sleeping with Claire. He’s undoubtedly staying at her place now. I mean, where else could he be staying? I bet everyone at work knew about it too—I wonder if they were gossiping about Noah’s poor, clueless fiancée. I’m so stupid. He was cheating on me. And I never saw it coming. The tears are fresh again by the time I get back to the apartment. I’m not going to call Noah, that’s for sure. Why make a fool out of myself? He’s obviously done with me. And if he’s the kind of guy who’d cheat on me, I’m done with him too.

My eyes are still puffy and swollen an hour later, when Theo is due to drop off Lily. I’m embarrassed to admit I go to the bathroom and slap on some makeup. I don’t want Theo to know I’ve been crying. And maybe there’s a small part of me that wants to look good around him. But I’m fooling no one. The first thing Theo says when I open the door for him and Lily is, “Shit, Bailey. You okay?” “I’m fine,” I say through my teeth. “You look like you’ve been crying.” “Well, I haven’t.” “You haven’t been crying over Noah, have you?” “No.” I look away. “Listen, thanks for bringing Lily by. I’ll see you later in the week.” He hesitates, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I wish you’d have come last night. You missed a killer show.” I force a tiny smile. “My loss.” “Maybe next time?” I nod. “Maybe.” Theo furrows his brow. When I first met him, his face had no lines, but now he has a deep permanent crease between his eyebrows. “I would never hurt you the way he hurt you, Bailey.” I don’t know what to say to that. “I mean,” he adds, “I’ve done some bad things in the past. But I’ve grown up a lot. And I’ll prove it to you… if you’ll give me a second chance.” I feel like I’m in some sort of bizarre-o world, where Noah is the cheating bastard and Theo is the one who is the picture of maturity. But maybe that’s my life now. I know what I saw with my own eyes in that bistro. And Theo seems to be making an effort like he never used to in the past. Maybe Theo really has changed.    

Chapter 48: Noah   “Good news, Mrs. Miller,” I say. “Your chest X-ray is normal.” Elizabeth Miller, eighty-four years young, furrows her wrinkled brow from her bed in Room Two. “Well, why do I keep coughing then?” “It’s a viral infection,” I say. “I’m going to give you prescription for something that will help your symptoms.” “An antibiotic?” she asks hopefully. “No, you don’t need an antibiotic.” “Well, how am I supposed to get better then, Dr. Walsh?” “Mrs. Miller.” I give her a sober look. “You don’t need an antibiotic. I promise you. Do you trust me?” Her blue eyes soften. “Yes, I trust you. You’re so nice, Dr. Walsh. You took so much time with me.” “Well, thanks.” “And also…” Here it comes. “You’re so handsome!” I smile tolerantly. “Thank you.” “Are you married?” She looks down at my left hand. “You’re not. Are you?” “No,” I admit. “I’m not.” I brace myself, waiting for her to attempt to set me up with her niece/daughter/granddaughter/neighbor. But instead, she just sighs. “You’ll make some lucky woman a wonderful husband someday.” That remains to be seen. “I’ll get that prescription ready for you, Mrs. Miller,” I tell her. “Is there anything else?” Mrs. Miller bites her lip. This is where she tells me she’s been peeing blood for the last month. “I shouldn’t say. I don’t want to take up your valuable time, Doctor.” I frown at her. “Don’t say that. Tell me what’s on your mind.” She heaves a sigh. “That man who was in here before was very rude.” Staff complaints. This is a time when it would be nice to have Claire here. She’s great at taking care of stuff like that. I think my professional

relationship with her has been permanently tarnished. “What man do you mean?” “I’m not sure,” she says carefully. “But… well, he came in here and he was all huffy. And he said he had to change the sheets in my bed. But I was in my gown already! So he made me get out of bed and stand there while he changed the sheets. I stare at her. “Are you serious?” It’s hard to believe one of our staff members would behave that way. She nods solemnly. “And he couldn’t wait for even a second— practically shoved me out of the bed. It really wasn’t very nice at all.” “Do you remember his name?” She taps a wrinkled finger against her chin. “Well, I’m not sure… but… oh, wait!” Her face lights up. “His first name was Theodore. Because I remember thinking Teddy Roosevelt would never act that way!” Theo. Theo shoved my rule-out-pneumonia patient out of bed. Why am I not surprised? “I know exactly who that was,” I say through my teeth. After I got him a goddamn job… after I gave up the love of my life for him… “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of it.” I’m seething with anger when I get out of Mrs. Miller’s room. I shouldn’t be the one to confront Theo about this, because I’m too goddamn furious. I won’t handle it professionally. I might hit him. But someone is going to address this, that’s for damn sure. I won’t have him mistreating my patients. I pull out my phone. Before I started my shift, I tried to call Bailey, but there was no answer. I hung up without leaving a message and texted her: Can we talk? I don’t know what to do. I can’t stop thinking about her. But she was pretty pissed at me when she left that restaurant, and she’s surely seen Theo since then. What if it’s too late? What if she’s already made up her mind to get back together with him? I can’t think about this right now. I’ve got to focus on my job. _____   “Hey, Noah. I need your expertise.” The PA George grabs me while I’m coming out of another room. I’d sent him to see a patient with a thigh laceration—he’s pretty good at sewing

up lacs. Better than me. If you don’t want a scar, George is your man. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “The lac is pretty deep,” he says. “I’d like you to take a look.” I nod. “All right. Let me grab some supplies and I’ll meet you there.” The supply room is down the hall, just by where the ER attaches to the rest of the hospital. Anything deeper than a superficial lac is supposed to be sewed up by a doctor, so I guess it’s going to be me. Fortunately, it’s been pretty slow tonight. Good thing, since my head still isn’t entirely in the game. I enter the three-digit code for the supply room and push open the door. I blink a few times and take a step back when I see there’s a couple making out in the back of the room. Now, it’s not like I haven’t seen that before. I have. Okay, I’ll be honest: Claire and I once made out in here. It’s very… private. It’s all the way at the end of the ER, and there’s that code to get in. So… it’s tempting. And exciting. I get it. I’m not thrilled, but I’m not particularly angry either. Until I see who is involved in the liplock: It’s Kaitlin, our nurse. And Theo. “What the fuck?” I yell. Kaitlin has the decency to back away, her usually pale cheeks flushing crimson. Theo, on the other hand, doesn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed. In fact, as Kaitlin is pulling away, he leans in closer to her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snap at Theo. He lifts his eyes to look at me. And then I do something I’m not particularly proud of, which is I grab him by the collar and shove him hard against the wall. About five catheter insertion kits and three bedpans crash to the ground. “Dr. Walsh!” Kaitlin shrieks. “Let go of me, asshole!” Theo yelps. He takes a swing at me, but he’s a really shitty fighter, and I’m able to dodge him easily. Christ, what did Bailey see in this guy? I tighten my grip on his scrub top and shove him against the wall again. “What the hell is the matter with you? Do you know what I gave up for you?” “Yeah.” Even as I’ve got him shoved against the wall, Theo manages a smile. “I had a great time with Bailey last night. Thanks for that, by the

way.” I’m going to murder him. I’m going to put my fist right through his face. “Dr. Walsh!” Kaitlin shouts again. Her words break through the haze of red I’m seeing. I can’t beat Theo to a bloody pulp. The last thing I need is an assault charge to ruin my career. I loosen my grip on his shirt, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. “Get out of my ER,” I say to Theo. “But I’ve got to—” “Get the fuck out of my ER,” I growl. He looks like he’s about to protest again, but then he thinks better of it. As I watch him scurry off, I think about what my father said to me. About how the best thing he could do for me was excluding himself from my life. Theo doesn’t deserve to be in Bailey and Lily’s lives—at least, not as Bailey’s husband. I could do so much better than him. For starters, I wouldn’t cheat on her. But I might be too late. I had a great time with Bailey last night. No, fuck it. I’m going to get Bailey back. No matter what.        

Chapter 49: Bailey   “Lily,” I say not so patiently, “what word is this? You know this one.” She frowns. “Lily, come on!” She shrugs. “The word is ‘the.’ Are you serious? How do you not know that word? It’s literally one of the first words you learned!” “I forgot,” she says. “But…” I sputter. I don’t get it. But what I understand least is how Noah was able to put up with this every day without completely losing his mind. “All right, let’s keep reading.” “I lost my place.” I point my finger at the last word she read. The. “I can’t see the word, Mom! You’re blocking it with your finger!” I’m going to have a stroke before we finish this book. I swear to God. “How many pages do we have left in the chapter anyway?” Lily grabs the book from me and flips through the pages, counting how much we’ve got left. It’s five pages. Same as it was last time she counted two minutes ago. At this rate, there’s a small chance she’ll finish before the end of first grade. The doorbell rings—a brief reprieve. I can’t imagine who would be coming to our door at nearly nine o’clock at night. Theo mentioned something about stopping by after his shift, but that won’t be for at least another couple of hours. I didn’t tell him no, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted him here. I still feel so awful about Noah—I can’t think straight. “Who is it?” I say as I get on my toes to look through the peephole. “It’s me.” Me? I throw open the door and there he is. Noah. Standing at the door in his scrubs, looking tired and rumpled and sexy as hell. I don’t know why he rang the doorbell since he’s got a key. Maybe he was being polite. That’s what our relationship has become: politeness. He’s being polite and letting me stay at the apartment. He’s being polite and ringing the doorbell. I bet he’s not polite around Claire.

“Bailey,” he says. “Hey.” I avoid his slightly bloodshot eyes. “Did you forget something?” “Yeah.” One corner of his lips lift. “You.” I roll my eyes. “Very funny. What do you need?” “I’m serious, Bailey.” His light brown eyebrows bunch together. “Can I come in? Please?” Before I can respond, Lily spots Noah at the door. Her whole face lights up like it’s Christmas and she leaps off the couch. “NOAH!!!!!!!!” She propels herself at him. He sees it coming and grabs onto the doorway to keep his balance when she collides with his lower half. He grunts, then laughs. “Where were you?” Lily demands to know. “I was…” He glances at me, then back at Lily. “I was staying at a hotel.” A “hotel.” Sure. “Mom said you weren’t coming back.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Uh, well…” “You should tell her the truth, Noah,” I say stiffly. “She deserves to hear it from you.” “The truth…” He frowns, looking between us. “The truth is… I need to talk to your mom. Alone.” “Why bother?” I mumble. “Do you need us to leave the apartment? Is that what you want?” “No, that’s not what I want.” “Well, isn’t that nice of you? Not throwing us out on the street.” I put my hands on my hips. “Theo will let us stay with him if you want your place back.” His blue eyes darken. “No. Bailey, no.” “What do you care? You’ve got Claire.” “Claire?” His eyes widen. “What does she have to do with anything?” “Theo told me about the two of you.” His right hand balls into a fist. “And you believed Theo?” “Save it,” I snort. “I also saw you two all cozy at that bistro a few blocks away. I know it’s true.” “I swear to you, Bailey.” He straightens up and places a hand on his chest. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but there’s nothing going on between me and Claire. Nothing.”

I shrug. “Do what you want. It’s not like it’s any of my business anymore.” “Noah.” Lily is gazing up at him with her usual hero worship. As far as she’s concerned, nothing has changed. She’s in for a rude awakening. “Guess what, Noah? I’ve got fifty chips! That means you’re getting me an ant farm, right? I’ve been waiting.” He looks down at her, and he gets this incredibly sad look on his face. “Lily, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.” “Well, she didn’t forget,” I say pointedly. “That’s what happens when you walk out.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Lily, I really need to talk to your mom right now.” He looks back up at me. “Please, Bailey.” Finally, I sigh and turn on the television for Lily so she’ll be occupied. There’s a reasonable chance she’s going to end up listening at the door, but I have to take the risk. There’s no place to get complete privacy around here. But as soon as Noah and I are alone in the bedroom, any resolve I have to be strong around him vanishes. This is Noah—the great romance of my life. My eternal hero. He carried all my boxes up for me on the first day of college. He saved me from getting date raped. He took my virginity and gave me my first orgasm. He got down on one knee in his cap and gown when he was only twenty-one years old and asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. “Bailey, listen to me.” His blue eyes are wide. It makes me remember the first day I met him, when he heaved that box out of my arms and I could see those eyes staring straight at me. I fell a little in love that day. “I fucked up, okay? That day at Lily’s recital… it messed with my head. I saw how happy Lily was to have her dad there, and I felt like I was the only thing getting in the way of your happy family.” I snort. “Happy family? Are you for real? I told you what Theo was like when we were together.” “Right, but…” He squeezes his hands together. “He’s changed, hasn’t he? Got a job. Started showing up for Lily—” “It doesn’t matter,” I say before he can finish. “It’s too late. Me and him… we’re over. For good.” “Is that really true?” He squints at me. “I saw the way you looked at him when he shaved his head. And Lily said you told him it looked good.”

I stare at him with my mouth hanging open. “Is that really what you think of me? After all these years, Theo just shaves his head and I come running? Do you really think I’m that shallow?” Noah sinks down onto the bed. He rubs his prosthetic knees, his eyes downcast. “No…” My chest aches. Noah never talks about it, but of course, there’s a part of him that must be hurting from our first broken engagement. He asked me to marry him, I accepted, and then I ended up returning the ring soon after he lost his legs. I regretted that decision every day of my life—I still regret it. It’s a decision I can never undo. “Listen to me, Noah.” I sit down next to him on the bed. “I’m never going to change my mind about wanting to marry you. When you make a mistake that colossal once, you never, ever want to make it again.” He lifts his eyes. “You and Lily just seemed so happy when Theo was there at the recital. Nobody even wanted me there. I was the fourth wheel.” “You know,” I say, “cars can’t drive without four wheels.” “You know what I mean.” He chews on his lip. “You three were the family. I wasn’t part of it.” “Are you kidding me? Lily nearly had a breakdown when she found out you’d left halfway through.” “Not really.” “Oh yes, really.” He frowns at me for a moment as he lets this piece of information sink in. “Jesus.” He lowers his head. “I’m so fucking sorry, Bailey.” I look away. I want to accept his apology, but the hurt is still there. Telling me he’s sorry doesn’t take it away. “Please, Bailey.” His brows knit together. “You’ve got to know… I wasn’t thinking straight. When Lily seemed so attached to Theo, it messed with me. I never got to have a mom and dad at home—not really. It’s something I always wanted.” “I know,” I murmur. As hard as it was losing my mother, at least I got to have her through my whole childhood. My parents were wonderful when I was young. I was lucky. “I just wanted you both to be happy,” he says. “I didn’t want to take that perfect childhood away from Lily. I thought I was doing something good for you guys by leaving. But…” I squint at him. “But what?”

“But…” He scratches at his dark blond hair, which is already tousled from the wind outside. “I think I could make you happier than anyone else in the world could.” “Oh, you think so?” He runs his finger along the line of my jaw. “I know so, actually.” For the first time since he showed up at the door, I allow myself a smile. “Well, of course you could. That’s what I’ve been telling you, dummy.” His fingers linger for a moment and I’m hoping he’ll bring me in for a kiss, but instead, he suddenly yawns. He pulls his hand away to rub his eyes with his fingers. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t sleep without you the last two nights. I’m a wreck.” He flashes a crooked smile. “Another week and I would have been dead.” I slide closer to him. “Well, I guess you’ve got to stay here with me forever then.” “Till death does us part.” And this time he leans in and brings his lips onto mine. I get that nice tingling in my panties as I feel his warm tongue against mine. God, I missed this. Just a short time ago, I’d been worried I’d never have a kiss like this ever again. When Noah finally pulls away, we’re both grinning like a couple of idiots. “You’ve still got the ring, right?” he asks. “You didn’t hock it or anything.” “Not yet.” I squeeze his hand back. “I had a feeling you might come crawling back.” His smile widens, although I wouldn’t have thought it possible. “I have to warn you of something though, Bailey.” “Yes?” “If we get back together…” I raise my eyebrows. “I’m going to buy Lily that ant farm.” I put my arms around his neck, bringing him close to me. “Totally worth it.”        

 



Epilogue: Noah Two Months Later   Twelve years ago, I got down on one knee in my dorm room and asked Bailey Chapin to be my wife. I felt like a kid back then. I wasn’t ready to get married, but I couldn’t imagine being with anyone but Bailey, so when she told me she wouldn’t move to New York with me without a ring, I had to do some soul-searching. Ultimately, I decided I couldn’t live my life without her. Whatever it took to keep her in my life, I was willing to do it. Now, twelve years later, we’re at City Hall, waiting for the judge to call us in. Bailey isn’t wearing white because… well, obviously. But her rosecolored dress is really sexy. If we’d gotten married back when we originally intended, we would have made it a big event, I’m sure. We expected both of Bailey’s parents would be there, a bunch of grandparents, then there would be our extended families and all our friends from college and my buddies from med school and it would have been out of control. But today, Bailey’s mother is no longer with us. The last of my grandparents passed over the winter after a bout of pneumonia, and all of Bailey’s grandparents are gone too. But we have Lily with us, who would certainly not have been there the first time around. And one more person I would never have expected would be at my wedding. Bailey reaches for my hand. “Nervous?” “No.” “You’re shaking.” “So are you.” “Well.” She grins at me. “I don’t get married every day, do I?” “More than me. You get married twice as often as I do.” I wish I were Bailey’s first. I wish she hadn’t married some other guy first and now I’ll always be her second husband. I hate that. But at least she’s my first and hopefully only. Lily twirls around in the middle of the hallway. I thought the dress she wore to my mother’s wedding last year was frilly, but the frills in this one

put that one to shame. It’s also pink. Bailey’s dress is technically pink, but Lily’s dress is really pink. It’s almost hard to look at. “When are you guys getting married already?” she whines. “We’re next,” Bailey says. “It’s… so… long!” Lily sighs. We have been sitting here exactly five minutes. But I’ve noticed Lily doesn’t have a great sense of time. Although one thing she does have is a giant ant farm. Bailey actually shrieked when she saw it. I may have gone a little overboard on the size. But hey, this could be Lily’s future career. I didn’t want to half-ass it. I felt awful when Bailey told me how upset Lily was when I left. I sat down with her and told her how sorry I was, and that I’d never, ever do anything like that again. I promised. More than once. Are we still going to play with the ant farm together after you and Mommy have a baby? Lily asked me. I got an ache in my chest. I couldn’t believe she thought about stuff like that. Of course we will, Lil. It’s not like the baby will be able to play with the ant farm, so I’ll need you! It made her feel better about it. And it’s a good thing because Bailey told me this morning that her period is two days late. She hasn’t taken a pregnancy test yet because she didn’t want it to overshadow the wedding, but… somehow I’ve got a feeling. I warned her when she took those antibiotics for her sinus infection, we needed to use another form of birth control. Or at least, I meant to warn her. She might be pregnant. Bailey might have a baby inside her. As if I needed something to make me more nervous. The judge marrying us is a woman in her sixties with hair tied into a sensible bun. I grab my cane when I follow her into the makeshift chapel, but I don’t intend to hold it during the ceremony. My pain is much better since I got the new socket, but I’ve still been taking it easy and using a cane whenever I’m on my feet (except during my ER shifts, when it would be a huge liability). I’ve accepted this is the way it’s going to be for the rest of my life. Along with Lily, Bailey’s father and my mother follow us into the chapel. And one other person: my father. I debated a long time about whether or not I should invite him, and it was my mother who finally talked me into it. And now… I’m glad he’s here. He dressed up in a suit that looks

like it could be older than I am, and he’s carefully combed the little hair he’s got left on his head. “I’m really proud of you, son,” he says to me as we walk into the chapel. “Thanks, Dad,” I say. We’ll never be as close as we might have been if he hadn’t disappeared on us all those years ago—if he’d been the father he should have been. But I’ve made peace with a lot of it. I need to put that behind me, especially now that I’m about to become a father myself. To Lily, but also possibly to another child. We won’t know till we take the pregnancy test tomorrow. Not tonight, because Lily is spending the night at our parents’ apartment and we’ve got the place to ourselves. No distractions. Just us. The judge smiles at the two of us. My hands are still shaking when she tells us to join hands, but Bailey’s soft fingers in mine calm me down. This is the day I’ve been waiting for since the moment I met her. “Bailey,” the judge says, “do you take Noah to be your husband?” She smiles shyly at me. “I do.” “Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only unto him?” “I do.” Well, that’s a relief. “Noah.” The judge faces me. My heart is thudding soundly in my chest. “Do you take Bailey to be your wife?” Hell yes. “I do.” “Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her?” “I do.” Bailey squeezes my fingers. This is it. This is the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. This is the woman I’m going to grow old with, share children with, and eventually grandchildren. My life may not have come out exactly as I imagined it would, but this part… this part is exactly as I want it to be. And now I’m going to dedicate myself to giving us a happy life together. I will be the perfect husband for Bailey.   THE END

Dear readers,   Every time I write a book, I brainstorm on what to say to get readers to write reviews. I think to myself, “If I were reading a book, what would get me to review it?” And I always come up with ideas, but nothing really works. After a recent book I wrote came out, I asked an advance reader (she was an author herself) to put up a review. She told me she loved the book and absolutely would. Two days later, I sent her a gentle reminder, and she wrote back: “PESTERING ME WON’T HELP. I’LL DO IT WHEN I DO IT.” And she didn’t respond to my apology. And she never wrote a review. Or ever spoke to me again. For this reason and many similar reasons, I am hesitant to ask for reviews. I don’t want to lose readers and anger people by asking. So I will ask once: Please. Just to make things easy, the site on Amazon is here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07MV15TF3/ . And as always, I would love to hear from you at [email protected].   Thank you once again to all my readers!  

Annabelle Costa   P.S. Keep reading for a new book excerpt after the acknowledgments!  



Acknowledgments Recent events in my life have made me realize how lucky I am to have people who are constantly willing to give me constructive feedback on my books. It’s sort of incredible. I write a book, and I say to someone, “Please read this.” And they do. It’s amazing. First, I want to thank Avery Kingston. You have been beyond an amazing friend to me in the last year, and I honestly can’t thank you enough for that and all the help you’ve given me. Thank you to J. Saman, one of my first online writer friends, for being an eternal source of no-nonsense feedback and support. And thank you to Geralyn Corcillo for your endless enthusiasm. Also, thanks to my real Lily and Noah for not buying that ant farm after all. I know the ants can’t survive indefinitely without the queen, but what if they find a new queen? And even if they do all eventually die, worker ants live up to three years. Three years of ants all over my freaking house. Anyway, the roly poly farm isn’t nearly as bad. Now turn the page for an excerpt from my book, How the Grinch Stole My Heart…



How the Grinch Stole My Heart

Jeremy   Thump. I close my eyes, trying to shut out the sound of a ball hitting the wall just outside my apartment. It’s the second time in two days. The second goddamn time. Thump. Thump. I feel a seedling of a headache starting in my left temple. I open my eyes and stare at the computer screen in front of me, filled with code. If I get a migraine, there’s no way I’ll be able to get any work done. I’ll be lucky if I can get out of bed. Thump. Thump. Thump. I grit my teeth. I know it’s a lot to expect absolute silence at three o’clock in the afternoon on a Sunday, but there’s something about that sound that gets me. The fact that it’s not quite rhythmic. The way sometimes there’s a gap in the thumps and I think it’s finally stopped, but nope, there it is again. I know who’s doing it. It’s that kid. That goddamn kid. I don’t know his name, but his family moved here a couple of months ago, and ever since winter hit for real, he’s been playing out in the hall with his rubber ball. He throws it against the wall as hard as he can, then he catches it. You’d think he’d get bored of it eventually, but he never does. He never. Fucking. Does. Thump. Thump. I don’t want to be the asshole who yells at a little kid for tossing a ball around in the hallway. I don’t want to be that guy. Nobody likes that guy. Remember Dennis the Menace and his grouchy old neighbor, Mr. Wilson? Dennis the Menace was always messing up Mr. Wilson’s lawn or knocking down half his house or pulling down his pants to reveal polka dot boxers, but somehow Dennis was still the hero. Did anyone root for Mr. Wilson? No, nobody did. I don’t want to be Mr. Wilson. I don’t. I’m just really sick of the sound of that goddamn ball. I’m not going to be able to pay my rent if the kid keeps it up. Thump! Thump!

To hell with it. I’m going to say something. Maybe the kid can go throw a ball on the floor above or below. Or anywhere else besides right outside my door. I take a breath, steeling myself for the effort it will take to stand up. I reach with my left hand for the forearm crutch I always keep leaning against my desk when I work. I lace my left arm through the metal loops, then slowly haul myself to my feet like I have hundreds of times before. I have a false start, where it seems like I’ll fall right back into my chair, but I don’t. I’ve gotten good at this over the last several years. I barely remember a time when standing up from a chair didn’t involve any effort at all. It feels like that was a whole other life. I guess it sort of was. I limp in the direction of the door. I keep the path from my desk to the door cleared of dirty clothes, rugs, or other paraphernalia that can and will trip me up. It’s about twenty feet from the desk to the door, but it takes me a good minute to traverse. My left leg does fine, but my right drags along behind me like dead weight, even with the plastic brace I’ve got supporting my ankle. It goes without saying I don’t go on any long hikes these days. I get the door open just as the kid is hurling his rubber ball at the wall with an impressive overhand for a kid his size. I don’t know how old he is, because I don’t have much familiarity with children. He’s somewhere between kindergarten and adulthood. Seven? Eight? Something like that. My clues are he’s two heads shorter than me and has no visible facial hair. He catches the ball, cupping it between his hands. A jab of jealousy hits me right in my rib cage. I can’t do that anymore. Throwing. Catching. I throw worse than a little girl with my left, and my right… well, it’s obvious I’m not throwing with that one anymore. I’m not doing anything with that one these days. Not that I was any Babe Ruth before, but I could toss a ball around without humiliating myself. I used to sometimes pitch on my company’s softball team and could always be counted on to strike a few guys out. Before. “Hey!” I say. The kid turns and looks at me, startled. He’s a cute kid—big brown eyes, messy brown hair, and a runny nose. I wonder if I’d stayed with

Taylor, if we’d have a kid of our own by now. Probably we would. Taylor wanted three and I wanted two. We used to argue about it. I clear my throat, not wanting to come off as too harsh. I don’t want to be Mr. Wilson. “Hey,” I start again. “Listen, when you throw the ball against the wall, it’s too loud…” The kid is staring at me. Actually, he’s staring at my right arm. It’s not a big shock, since everyone stares at my right arm. Even adults stare, but at least they look away when they notice me noticing. But this kid couldn’t care less that I’ve caught him staring at me. And this is why I get my groceries delivered. This is why I work from home. This is why my skin is embarrassingly pale because I only venture out of my apartment once a week, at most. I never wanted to become one of those loser computer geeks who’s holed up in an apartment and loses all contact with the outside world. But to be fair, nobody wants that. It just… happens. “My mom said I could,” the kid finally says. “Right,” I say, “but you’re throwing it outside my door, and it’s making it really hard for me to concentrate on my work.” The kid’s jaw juts out. “My mom said I could.” “Listen.” I hear any trace of niceness disappear from my voice. My resolution not to be an asshole is dissolving. “You can’t throw the ball here. Go to another floor or something.” “My mom says I can’t leave the floor.” My temple throbs. If that ball didn’t give me a migraine, this conversation will do it. “So go to the other end of the hallway. Around the corner.” He shakes his head. “More room here.” A muscle twitches in my right leg, and I tighten my grip on my forearm crutch. Even standing in one place is a lot of effort for me. “Look,” I say, “you can’t throw your ball here. You’re not allowed.” “My mom says I can,” he insists again. “Your mom is wrong.” I try to look him in the eyes, but his are focused like a laser beam on my right arm. I want to adjust my arm so it doesn’t look quite so bad, but I don’t dare release my crutch. “You can’t play with your ball in the hallway. Got it?” “But—”

“And if I hear you doing it again,” I say, “I’m calling the building management. Cappish?” The kid blinks at me. “Ca-what?” To hell with it. Everyone already thinks I’m a grumpy asshole. May as well own it. “Look,” I say, “throw the ball again and I’m taking it.” His eyes widen. “You can’t do that!” “I sure can,” I say. “Anything that lands right outside my apartment is my property. And that includes your ball.” The kid clutches the ball to his chest. His lower lip trembles. Shit. I didn’t make him cry, did I? Christ, I didn’t want to make him cry. Maybe I’m a grumpy asshole, but I’m not a monster. Not yet, anyway. Give me a few years of living here all alone, with no human contact. That’s the direction I’m headed. But thankfully, he doesn’t cry. Instead, he sticks out his right hand, and shoots his middle finger up in the air. Holy shit, that little kid just flipped me off! I don’t even have a chance to react before he races away. That’s probably a good thing, since I’m not sure what I would have done. I definitely couldn’t reciprocate. You can’t give a grade schooler the finger. I’m sure if I had, some neighbor would have opened their door at that exact second. And then I’d be… Well, I’m not sure what the punishment is for flipping off a child. But it wouldn’t be great. It’s not like I’ve got any friends in the building who would stick up for me. Aside from Fanny, but she’d be horrified too. I have a bad feeling this isn’t over.    

Noelle   I’m shaking with anger. I thought that was an expression people use, but in this case, it isn’t. I am literally shaking as I stare at the email on my phone. I am so pissed off right now at my ex-husband.

You would think the fact that Greg left me for his hygienist would give me the moral high ground forever. Yes, my husband the dentist left me for his hygienist. It was the biggest cliché ever. All my friends warned me not to let Greg hire a hygienist who was too attractive, but seriously, it’s not like I had any input in the matter. It’s not like my husband ran all his hires by me. By the time I laid eyes on Dina and was horrified by how young and pretty she was, she was already on the payroll. You can’t fire someone for being attractive—that would be an HR mess. And yes, she’s younger than me. Ten years younger than me. Speaking of clichés. Worst of all, because I’m apparently a masochist, I stalk her Facebook page, which is not set to private. She and Greg have traveled more in the year since he and I separated than we traveled during the entire ten years of our marriage. Why do I look at photos of Dina in a bikini in Bermuda, glaring at her perfect tummy that has clearly never held a full term fetus inside it? Why do I do that to myself? Her last Facebook update was: I love having a tan in December! And now I get this gem from Greg in my inbox:   Noelle, I was very disappointed to learn from Henry that you took him to see another dentist to have his teeth cleaned last week. Clearly, since his father is a dentist, it doesn’t make sense you should take him elsewhere. Dina is taking it personally that you don’t trust her to clean our son’s teeth properly, and she is quite hurt. Despite whatever personal grudge you have, Dina is an excellent hygienist and professional at all times. I expect in the future that you will bring Henry here for his next cleaning. Best,

Greg P.S. I believe you have my DVD of Blazing Saddles, and I would like you to return it when I pick Henry up next weekend.   First of all, let’s just get this out of the way: I do not have Greg’s copy of Blazing Saddles. I don’t even like that movie. And even if I did, I don’t even own a DVD player! Greg took ours when he moved out, and I never bothered to replace it. So the last thing I want is a stupid DVD for a movie I don’t even like that I wouldn’t even be able to play. Okay, now let’s address the bigger issue: I do not want to set foot in Greg’s dental offices ever again. I do not want Dina’s bubble gum pink fingernails in my son’s mouth. And yes, maybe I was being petty by taking Henry to another dentist when his very own father is a dentist, but when I thought of walking up the metal staircase to the dental office that Greg and I looked at together all those years ago, I just… couldn’t. And Dr. Chambers is a good dentist. He has a whole treasure chest in the back that Henry got to rifle through for being well-behaved during his cleaning. So. I chew on my thumbnail, which is this awful bad habit I have left over from my childhood. I do it whenever I’m angry or nervous or even bored. Every time I do it, I half expect to hear my mom snap at me, Noelle, stop chewing on your thumb! It drove Greg crazy too. I’d nearly managed to stop, but with the separation and then the divorce, I fell off the wagon. My stomach is probably filled with chunks of my thumbnail. My fingers hover over the keypad on my phone’s screen, itching to type a scathing reply. I have the moral high ground after all. But maybe I shouldn’t. I saw a therapist briefly after my separation, back when I could afford the copays, and she told me I needed to let go of my anger. Because if I don’t, I’m going to end up on blood pressure medications. Medications. Plural. Before I can decide either way, the door to our apartment swings open. Henry stomps his way in, his little feet thumping loudly against the carpeted floor with each step. He throws himself against the sofa next to me, then starts tossing his rubber ball up in the air.

I cringe. He got that ball at a birthday party a month ago, and during that time, I’ve come to loathe it. It’s already broken two picture frames and toppled a small potted plant. It’s knocked over countless glasses of water or milk. Last night when I was trying to do our nightly chapter of Nate the Great so Henry doesn’t fall behind again in class, he took out the ball and started tossing it in the air while we were reading. I want to confiscate the ball, but I can’t make myself do it. The divorce has been hard on Henry, and things aren’t better now that he’s cooped up in this small apartment every evening thanks to the growing cold. The cold is a major issue. It wouldn’t be so bad if Henry could do basketball on weekends like last year, but Greg has refused to take him, saying it disrupts their weekend plans—so he’s doing zero sports right now. When I sat down with Henry’s teacher during the parent-teacher conference last week and expressed concern that it seemed like my son couldn’t sit still lately and could it be a sign of attention deficit disorder, she said, “All the boys get restless when the weather changes and they can’t play outside as much. Imagine a little wind-up toy that is all wound up, then released in a tiny little space. It would be going everywhere, bouncing against all the walls constantly, wouldn’t it?” A wind-up toy is a perfect analogy for Henry’s behavior lately. So I’ve reluctantly allowed him to keep the ball. But after a near-miss with our television set yesterday, I told him he’s only allowed to play with it in the hallway, where nothing can be shattered. “Henry,” I say carefully, “didn’t I say you could only play with the ball in the hallway?” “Uh huh.” He tosses the ball up in the air. “But this guy said I can’t.” This guy said I can’t. Getting a story out of an eight-year-old can be a challenge. “What guy?” I ask. “This weird old guy,” he says. “Like… the super? Luis?” Henry just barely catches the ball before it smashes into the vase on our end-table. “No, he lives here. In 5B.” “Oh.” We moved out of our old apartment only two months ago, so I don’t know many of our neighbors yet. The old place had too many memories. Also, too many zeroes in the rent. Not that this place is cheap—

everything in Manhattan is outright ridiculous. But I didn’t want to pull Henry out of his school and away from his friends on top of everything. So we got a one-bedroom and he sleeps on a cot in the living room. “What did the old man say to you?” “He told me I can’t play with my ball in the hall,” Henry says. I narrow my eyes at him. “Were you throwing it against his door? Because I told you that you’re only allowed to throw it against the floor or up in the air.” “I wasn’t throwing it against his door!” he insists. When I give him a look, he says, “I swear, Mom! I was being quiet.” I believe Henry. I’ve never known him to lie before. “And,” he goes on, “the man said if he saw me doing it again, he’d take it away.” My eyes fly open. “He said he’d take it?” He nods solemnly. “Yeah, but I don’t think he really could. He’s got a cane, and I bet I could run away with the ball before he could get it.” “That’s not the point, Henry.” My right hand balls into a fist. Let go of my anger—yeah, right. How could I not be angry? If this guy doesn’t like my kid innocently tossing a ball around in the hallway, then he should take it up with me. Not threaten an eight-year-old child. What is wrong with him? “He has no right to take your ball away!” He has no right. And I should march over to 5B and tell this old man what’s what! I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? He sprays me with Ben Gay? “He didn’t take it,” Henry explains patiently. He holds up the blue rubber ball. “It’s right here. See, Mom?” “Yes, but—” I start to say, but at that moment, Henry throws the ball, and naturally, it goes completely out of control. I flinch as it barely misses my face, zips past my ear, slams into our bookcase, and knocks over three picture frames in one incredible shot. The sound of glass shattering echoes through our small apartment. Apparently, I will not be going over to confront Mr. 5B. I will be cleaning up broken glass shards from the floor. “Oops,” Henry says. “Go to your room,” I mumble. “Now.”

Nobody ever said being a single mom was easy.   Get How the Grinch Stole My Heart on Amazon!