“I am sorry that I wasn’t going to tell you. You’re really great so it would’ve been my mistake.”
Barry was looking at me, I could tell in my peripheral, plus I could feel his focus on my face. Really, it was almost unsettling.
“It was a me thing,” I said. “I really liked you, I was just?—”
Scared of how charmed I was by you, afraid you wouldn’t text me back, afraid youwouldtext me back, worried I’d start liking you even more than I already did.
“Stressed,” I say finally.
“’S’okay, Harvey. Best birthday present I’ve ever had.”
I debated putting my hand on his forearm or bicep, something reassuring and friendly, not sexy or romantic, but I settled on brief eye contact and a nod. Basically the same thing.
The doorbell sounded, sending Junior’s claws scrabbling against the floor as he retreated, likely beneath my bed. Barry and I inhaled in unison before he headed for the door to let in his mother. I gave one last attempt to smooth out my hair before following suit.
CHAPTER 16
GENEROSITY
Dr. Gen Wright—deadass short for Generosity—was the delight he said she was. She peppered Barry with hugs and kisses on both of his cheeks before giving me the same treatment. She pulled me to her chest, then held me at arm’s length to get a good long look at me. I wished I had taken a minute to look at my hair, still in two braids which were probably now half disassembled.
She said I had terrific skin, which I thought was a lie, but she seemed very genuine. She said that pregnancy does horrific and dazzling things to us, then asked if she could touch my belly, to which I said yes. She closed her eyes, both hands on my stomach, as if searching spiritually for the life growing within. I wished she’d kick, but baby was chilling. Barry stared mortified at the scene.
“A girl,” Gen said after finally opening her eyes.
“Holy shit,” I said before I could think better about cussing in front of her. “How could you tell?”
“I told her,” Barry said. Gen smiled and brought her shoulders toward her ears before clapping her hands in front of her chest three times.
“A girl! We can’t wait to spoil her.”
It made my palms hot to think about the baby being spoiled by the Wright family, not to mention how popular she’ll be in my family. Was I setting her up to be a monster with all this spoiling? Did every parent worry about this? I tucked this concern away in the growing folder of reasons to invest in someparenting books and tried to focus on the woman in front of me. She had these bangles on her arms that clacked together when she spoke, short bare nails, and a bright floral blouse.
The three seasons ofGrey’s AnatomyI had watched did not prepare me for a real-life surgeon to look like this. As far as I knew, surgeons were supposed to be sterile, somewhat stilted in their relationships, and generally sexy.
“Would you like some tea?” I offered, like we were in nineteenth century England. I hoped she’d say no as soon as I said it because all I had on hand was this laxative one and a few boxes of pregnancy tea that I was supposed to drink one cup, only one cup, per day to help with something, I can’t remember what—Kate got it for me.
“Tap water would be just fine,” Gen said and looked at Barry with a well-practicedhop to itface. Would I have an album of my own mother faces like that? The kind that anyone could read? How long would it take to get the expressions down, and does that sort of thing come naturally?
Gen followed Barry into the kitchen and made herself quite at home at the island. She said she was fond of puzzles, too, and placed a piece immediately. That’s the thing about puzzles, people can’t resist trying to put things together when they know there’s a solution.
Barry filled up a glass of water, then stood behind her and placed another piece. Total naturals.
A minute passed of mother and son quietly picking up and organizing puzzle pieces, twin creases in the middle of their foreheads. The baby would get those too, I thought. I leaned against the counter and assessed them, listening to the heater blowing through the vents. Junior padded out of the bedroom, but not too quickly.
Barry looked up at me and cleared his throat. “Mom, did you bring the vitamins?”
“Oh!” Gen stood from the table and retreated past me into the living room to retrieve a large reusable grocery bag like theones Mom carried in her car but seldom remembered to bring into the store. She dropped the bag on the counter and withdrew a box that said BEST FOR BARRY in a trendy serif font down the side. The bottom of the box opened to reveal little packs of pills, kind of like Greg Senior’s gravity feeder with the food up top slowly trickling into the rest of the bowl as needed.
Barry assessed a pack, squinting and pulling the package first close to his face, then further away. Sometimes at night when he was still working on something, or reading one of the books off my shelf, Barry wore these tortoiseshell reading glasses (very overwhelming).
He grinned at me over the pack. “Biotin, sure enough.”
“And I hope you don’t mind…” Gen looked to me as she rustled in the bag. “But I got you some supplements, too. Not personalized, but some of the prenatals a friend recommended.”
Gen laid out three various-sized bottles on the counter, describing what each of them were for—a powder to mix into a smoothie or a cup of tea, a once daily, and some probiotics to help keep me regular that I should keep in the fridge and take with breakfast.
“You couldn’t help yourself.” Barry rubbed a palm down his face, stretching the skin under his eyes in this look of melting dread.
