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He pinched the inside corners of his eyes. I still hadn’t ever seen him cry—he’d only come close a handful of times, like when opening up about his sister’s drowning, or the time in New York when I’d forced him to say goodbye, and then when we’d exchanged vows.
“I’m sorry,” he said as a few tears tracked down his cheeks.
“Why?” I asked, taking his face in my hands.
“I want to be strong for you.”
“You are, baby.” I kissed his resilient face, the lip that had been scarred and nose that’d been broken defending my honor. The gray hairs that’d started to shade his stubble, the lines that hadn’t been there even five years ago, and the features that had, like the dent in his chin. No matter how much we’d been through, good or bad, his soda-pop brown eyes held the same intensity they had back then. I kissed the face his son or daughter would look up to for the first time months from now. To them, he’d be as high in the sky and as important as the sun.
“I love you, father of my child,” I said.
“I love you, too,” he said, his voice ‘so deep, it gave me goosebumps on the inside, if that was even possible.’
I smiled, remembering how painfully naïve and awed I’d been that first day we’d met on the construction lot nineteen years earlier. Squinting up at him like he was too bright.
We had grown and changed, laughed and hurt—and loved each other through all of it. I was a woman now, but maybe it wasn’t so bad to still be that girl, too—my world warmed and given life by the sun.
19
I’d been so eager to get knocked up that I hadn’t stopped to consider timing. Now, eight months and two weeks in, I wished I’d thought it through. Sex should’ve been off the table during any months that might result in a summer pregnancy.
“Hand me that,” I said to Val, gesturing between us. “Hurry up.”
The terrified look on her face only annoyed me more. “What are you pointing at?” she asked.
“Your flip-flop.”
She and Tiff exchanged a glance that was probably meant to ask if I was insane, but I didn’t care. She took off her shoe and gave it to me. I started fanning myself. “Manning’s house is a million fucking degrees.”
“Suddenly it’s Manning’s house?” Val asked. “Not yours?”
“I never signed up to live in a sauna.”
“It’s really not that bad,” Tiffany said. “But I know when I was pregnant—”
“It’s not because I’m pregnant,” I said. “It’s the middle of June and Big Bear is experiencing an extreme heat wave.”
“It’s eighty-five degrees out . . .”
“Lake is right,” Kara said, nodding at me with a soft smile. I’d gotten to know Henry’s daughter better since my wedding, but I wasn’t as close with her as I was with most of the girls in the room. “Hopefully Manning will get the A.C. fixed soon.”
“Thank you, Kara,” I said.
The flip-flop wasn’t cutting it. I tossed it aside, looking for a paper plate, a magazine, an igloo to crawl into—anything. I rocked forward as best I could, stretching for the diaper tree on the coffee table, but in my enormous state, I couldn’t get to it. “Someone hand me one of those.”
“But it’s arranged so pretty,” said Piper, a friend from my veterinary program.
Kara moved the tree to the floor next my chair. A chair they’d made me sit in to put me on display.
I pulled a diaper out and relaxed back in my seat, waving it over my clammy face and neck. “That’s better. Now what?”
“Well,” Val said slowly, “I had this game planned.”
“Great,” I said. “I love games. Let’s have some fun.”
It was only then I noticed how quiet the room was. Val had not only organized me a baby shower, but she’d gone out of her way to invite people from coast to coast. Classmates, friends, and relatives had come from Los Angeles and Pomona, and even Roger had flown in from New York to be here—although, I suspected he was really in California to troll the West Hollywood summer scene. A few of the girls hadn’t made the wedding, and they were floored by the house—I would have to tell Manning when I saw him, assuming I didn’t die of heatstroke.
We’d all been having a nice time until the brand-new air conditioning unit had gone out. Luckily, Manning had been hiding out with the dogs in his workshop during the party and had jumped into action.
I made a hurry-up motion with my hand. “What’s the game?”
“It’s called Dirty Diapers,” Val rushed out.
“We played it at my shower, and you won, remember?” Tiffany added. “Val and I thought it would be fun. We smash melted chocolate bars into diapers, then pass them around for everyone to guess which candy it is.”
