Page 136 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

“You know you missed all the years Aurora went through puberty, right?”

“I caught the tail end of everything Aurora, and I also lived through Leno and Levi.”

“You don’t think it’s a terrible idea?”

Instead of answering, Lucas unlocks my phone, because he’s long since seen that my password is still (and always has been) his birthday. “I think Beatrice will be delighted to be of service.”

On Tuesday of the following week, Gwendy comes home and meets Lucas, establishing an almost instant rapport.

By Wednesday, I’ve checked and double-checked with the girls and have confirmed that Harper and Wren are ecstatic about the idea of moving in with me permanently, as long as they a) can finish the school year at their current school and b) are allowed to visit their mother (in some future, still-unspecified manner) if they want.

By Thursday, my mother signs over custodial rights while Beatrice, Brody, and Lucas are all there to help negotiate, to bear witness, and to provide support.

She’ll technically keep the townhouse, but given her desire to travel with her newly acquired funds, she agrees to rent it back to me so the girls only have to move once, after the school year has concluded.

On her way out, my mother stops to lay a hand on me. She doesn’t bother to lower her voice but instead addresses me in Mandarin. “Don’t think you’ve won, to seoi gaa. You won’t be able to raise those girls and keep this man. Eventually, you’ll be alone, just like me.”

I’m about to defend myself, but Lucas gets there first. “Even if your daughter ever chose to leave me, she would still have her work, her sisters, and her friends. Meaning she will always be more than you.”

Brody, who is clearly my former teammate who has not been secretly taking Mandarin lessons, nods in an exaggerated fashion. “Yeah. What he said.”

My mother shakes her head in disgust, and I realize it’s my turn. If I’m lucky, if I try to communicate through the lawyers I can now afford, there’s hope that this is the last time I’ll need to talk to her. “The girls can see you whenever they want, but I hope you understand that this . . . payment is the only and last money you’ll get from me.”

Given all that happens throughout the week, given the seemingly endless decisions and stress, is it any wonder a rash appears by Saturday?

50

WE RAISED BRODY

PRESENT

Unlike Hawaii, the rash I wake with on Saturday morning is a telltale butterfly rash. I can feel the heat of it on my face, and as I look down, I see there are patches present on my torso and thighs.

Gwendy, I know, has gone home again for the weekend. Besides, she’s seen this before, has helped me through it.

But for Lucas, this will be new.

Because he often sleeps curled up next to me, it’s possible he hasn’t seen.

As I wrap my robe around myself and sneak into the shower, I hear him tapping a pen next to the Keurig, humming in that absentminded way he has.

I take my time in the shower, and I’m sure he’s heard me start, meaning I can’t hide forever. It’s Saturday, and we had planned to spend a lazy day together, joking that it will be one of our last free, pre-kids weekends. As if we’ve already skipped ahead to the conclusion despite there still being so much to talk about and decide.

I stay under the hot spray until I can’t stand it any longer, and because I hadn’t thought to bring clothes in my panic, I can either put the pajamas I’ve already thrown in the hamper back on, or . . .

I put my hair up, towel-turban style, and wrap the robe tightly around myself, and then, instead of sneaking out, I walk over to where Lucas is sipping his coffee, an old-school printed scientific paper in his hand, because he claims it’s easier on his eyes.

“Lucas.”

He turns quickly, a slow smile spreading on his face. “Hey.”

“Did you see it already, this morning?”

“I check on you every morning,” Lucas confesses, not the least bit embarrassed. “Maybe it’ll get better once we’ve been together for longer, but for now, it’s borderline compulsion.” His voice is steady and completely unapologetic. He might even be proud.

“It’ll be harder for me to get pregnant, because of the . . . lupus. I didn’t confirm it at the time, but your googling and concierge doctor are correct. It took my shitty insurance system more than a year to test and diagnose.”

Lucas nods, unsurprised. “We have a lot of kids already.”