I digested that for a moment. "Do you really think that, or are you just saying it because I'm sick and you feel sorry for me?" I demanded.
“No.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Alison, if you question what I say every time I say something nice, if you expect that I'm only in this because I feel sorry for you, then there's no chance for us to have any kind of relationship, co-parenting or otherwise. I understand that I haven't been a stellar example of trustworthiness lately, but I'm trying to change that. I need you to cooperate with me just a little bit. Just give me like… ten percent of the benefit of the doubt, okay?"
I knew he was right. I knew that I was intentionally jumping on everything that he said and questioning his motives.
"Remember those pregnancy hormones I mentioned the other night?" I asked. "Well, it turns out that they not only make me very sensitive, they also make me second-guess myself and all of my decisions. Or maybe that's just me, and the pregnancy is making it worse. So I'm going to ask for your indulgence and your patience. I'm sorry about that."
Noah reached over and laid his hand on mine, squeezing it briefly before he returned it to the steering wheel. “You don't have to apologize, Alison. But I appreciate you telling me that. It's good for me to know."
He was quiet for a moment before he went on. "It strikes me that we’re in a unique situation. Something neither of us expected, or maybe necessarily thought out, but here we are. And it's not going to be without its challenges. You're used to being alone, not depending on anyone. I never would've said I was a loner until after Angela died. But aside from being with my teammates, I've spent more days alone in the past few years than I ever have in my life. That means that we’re both going to have to get used to something a little different."
I nodded. "You're not wrong. I'm accustomed to only thinking about myself, my own needs. Maybe this will be good practice for parenthood, though."
"You might be onto something," Noah agreed. "The point is, I think we can do this if we agree to a few things right up front."
"I'm listening." I shifted in the passenger seat to face him, bringing my knee up under me.
"First of all, we need to be honest with each other. We can't hide anything or try to misrepresent it because we’re afraid of hurting the other person."
"I agree with you."
"And we have to try to think the best of each other, too. You can't come at this like I'm doing you a favor or taking pity on you. And I can't always be thinking that you’re expecting the worst of me, either."
"I agree with that, too. It might take me a little while to get into the habit of believing the best, and I'm going to ask you to be patient with me. But I'll try my best."
Noah sighed. “I think that's something else we need to remember. All of this is going to take time. We have to show each other as much grace as we can."
"True. Anything else?"
"Yeah.” Noah pulled into my driveway, stopped the car, and pulled the keys from the ignition. “Just one more thing. I think we need to have a sense of humor about the situation. We can't take it too seriously. Let's face it, we’re both scared to death about this whole thing. We know that there are pitfalls ahead that we can't even begin to anticipate. If we can't laugh at ourselves, then we're going to be sunk."
That was something I hadn't even thought about, but now that I considered it, Noah was right. "You'll have to help me with that one. I'm a pretty serious person, and laughing at myself doesn't come naturally."
"Duly noted. I'll make sure that I crack us both up at least once a day." Noah held up his hand as though he was taking a vow. “As God is my witness.” He turned the move into a fist pump. “Finally! A job I’ve been training for my whole life.”
I giggled, and Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “Look at that! I’m already killing it.” He picked up my hand again and held it. “Try not to worry, Alison. This is going to be good. I just have a feeling.”
* * *
For the most part, Noah was right. But it wasn’t as easy as he’d made it sound.
That first afternoon, he got me settled in my bedroom before he ran out to pick up my medicine. He came back with bags of groceries as well, which I only knew because I’d crept downstairs to get more water, and he caught me out of bed.
I eyed the bags critically. “Did you leave anything on the shelves at the store, Noah?”
“Is that supposed to give me my daily chuckle, sweetheart? Because I’m afraid you’re going to have to try a little harder than that.” He began unloading the groceries. “I didn’t know everything you liked, so I bought a sampling. Once I’ve figured out which foods you enjoy, I’ll narrow down our menu choices.”
“Hmmm.” I sat on a kitchen chair and sipped my water.
“Okay, lady. Field trip’s over. Back upstairs to bed you go.”
I sent him a pitiful look. “But it’s boring up there. My head hurts too much to read.”
“You need to sleep.”
“I slept all morning. I’m too restless.”
Noah finished stashing the frozen foods and the chilled items. He turned around, regarding me thoughtfully. “How about a nice, warm bath? It’ll make your aches and pains feel better, and afterwards, you might be able to sleep.”
