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“Now, I know you said you didn’t want me to,” Lucas began, before I had a chance to say anything. “But Natalie…I had to. For you and for Sophie. You two deserve to have a place of your own, and I wanted to make it as easy for you as possible.”
I was so overwhelmed, I had to sit down. It’s true, I had protested—after all, how could I accept such an extravagant offer, even if Lucas did have the financial means? But seeing how much it meant to him, to provide this kindness for us, dispelled my feelings of guilt, and a wave of immeasurable gratitude washed over me. “Thank you,” I told Lucas, because it was all I could manage in the moment.
As if understanding this, he smiled and nodded. “My pleasure.” Then, turning to Sophie, he said, “So, do you want to see your room?”
“I get my ownroom?” Sophie exclaimed, jumping up and down.
“Yep, you and your mommy both do!” Then, he turned to address me directly. “Also, I did some grocery shopping before you got here. There should be enough to last the two of you for the next month or so.”
“Show me my room!” Sophie yelled, before I had a chance to express my appreciation, and for a moment I was almost grateful. Nothing I said seemed like it would be adequate or come even close to expressing how I felt in that moment. But this was Lucas, and deep down, I knew he knew that.
After showing Sophie her room, Lucas gave the two of us a formal tour. The apartment had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a fully stocked kitchen, and a small balcony that offered a generous view of the lake. “For your painting,” Lucas had remarked, in a tone that reminded me why it was that I had fallen in love with him.
“Alright,” Lucas said, after the tour had ended. “I have some business to take care of, so I’m going to let the two of you enjoy your new home. If either of you needs anything, anything at all, please let me know, okay?”
Sophie gave him a big hug. “You’re the best!” she shouted.
“Not as cool as you!” he said. Then, coming over to me, he said lovingly, “I love you, Natalie—I hope you feel at home here.”
I nodded at him, tears welling in my eyes. “I love you, too. This is just… incredible. I can’t even tell you.” I kissed him, and he kissed me back, and I felt his lips pull into a smile as I did. He turned to leave, but before he did, he paused. “Oh! Before I forget, Johann texted me today. He submitted a formal offer for your art. I understand if you don’t want to sell, but his offer is very generous, and I think you should consider it.”
“I’ve already considered,” I said, which was true. Regardless of what he was offering, I knew Johann was genuinely interested in my work, and I was willing to make the deal. “I’ll do it.”
Lucas smiled at me. “He’ll be very happy to hear that,” he said.
It was about an hour after Lucas left, as Sophie and I curled up on the couch, watching a movie, that I received an email from Johann. Attached was a check for $15,000, withThis is just the beginning :)written as the memo.
Just one day ago, I had been living with my parents, unemployed, terrified of how I’d care for Sophie. Now we were in our own apartment, and this check ensured I’d never have to worry about feeding Sophie or paying her daycare fees. I no longer cared what people were saying about me. I was happy, Sophie was secure, and I had a good man who, as fate had it, happened to be her father. Finally I felt ready to tell Lucas the truth— but still one thing stood in the way. Daniel.
Although he hadn’t reappeared at my parents’ house, Daniel had been texting me almost daily by this point, insisting I administer Sophie the paternity test. For the most part, I ignored him, but I knew he wouldn’t give up until I proved to him, once and for all, that he had no claim to Sophie, and never would.
I opened my mostly one-sided text conversation with Daniel, where I saw the last message he’d sent, earlier that day:You can’t ignore me, Natalie— you can’t get rid of me until I’ve got those DNA results.
Fine,I responded.I’ll do the DNA test.
And I put down my phone, eager to spend the first night in a long time with my daughter, in a place we could call our own.
24
IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH
Lucas
The day after introducing Natalie and Sophie to their new home, I went back to help them move all their things. The load was light—the apartment was furnished, and most of the clothes I’d bought them in New York were still neatly in their packages—and after two trips everything was done, and we sat in the living room together, trying to decide what to eat for dinner.
“I vote Chinese,” Natalie said. Then, looking over at Sophie, asked, “What do you think, sweetheart?”
Sophie, who was lying across the couch in a pantomime of exhaustion, mumbled something in response.
“Tired from a hard day’s work, are you?” I joked, hoping to get a rise out of her, but she didn’t even acknowledge it.
“Mommy, I feel weird,” she said finally.
Natalie sat Sophie up and pulled her onto her lap, checking her temperature. Then, looking at me, with an edge of panic in her voice, said, “She’s burning up.”
I moved closer and felt for myself. Sure enough, Sophie’s forehead felt as if someone had left a hot rag on it, and it was throbbing lightly.
“We should get her to the hospital,” I said, without even thinking. Though a raised temperature wasn’t inherently risky, some instinct had kicked in. I was determined to relieve Sophie of any discomfort or suffering, no matter how minor.
