I haven’t really thought of it. “Yeah, probably.”
“That’ll be a huge expense. And with the cost of housing on the West Coast and donor IVF...”
I refuse to talk about IVF. “So it’s settled,” I say teasingly. “We should just stay here.”
“Not funny, Zack.”
Great, just great. We’re off to a terrific start. I glance at my watch and wonder what Quinn and Lily are doing right now. Lily’s supposed to be asleep by eight, but I bet Quinn is still reading her stories. I almost say something to Jess about it, but I know the information won’t be welcome.
I search my mind for something safe to talk about. She’s never been all that interested in my work, and I don’t dare talk about Quinn, Lily, the baby, or Margaret. I don’t want to ask about Jessica’s family, because she told me on the phone how upset they were to learn about my donor family. If I ask about her new position, she’ll make it sound like nirvana.
Hell, I can talk to a stranger about more topics than I dare broach with my own wife.
I push open the door, and the humid New Orleans air settles over us.
“Christ, it’s hot,” she says. “Thank God I don’t have to endure another New Orleans summer.”
Was she always this negative, or am I just looking for things to criticize? That wasn’t my intention. I came to the airport to pick her up so we could spend more time together. I know the situation has been difficult for her; she looks strained and tense and miserable. Hell, that’s how I feel, too. We seem further apart now that we’re in the same city than we did when she was in Seattle.
We clearly need to patch things up, but she isn’t even trying, and I’m running out of ideas.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Jessica
Saturday, June 1
HOW ARE THINGSgoing?My sister texts around ten the next morning.
Not great, I text back. I feel stressed and edgy, and a headache is starting to pulse around the edges of my scalp. Things have been difficult with Zack from the moment he surprised me at the airport. They didn’t get any better when we got to his car and I saw a child seat fitted into the back. I’ve had trouble coming up with anything to say to him, and from the long, uncomfortable silences, I surmise he feels the same way. It’s like we’re both encased in armor and we can’t really touch each other. Not even in bed—at least, not in an emotional way.
Can you talk?
No. We’re in the car, on the way to pick up Zack’s little family for an outing to the aquarium.
OMG! You agreed to that?
Yeah, I text.
Good luck! Keep me posted.
I put down my phone.
Zack brakes for a stoplight and glances over. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just my sister.”
“How’s she doing these days?”
“Good.”
“And her family?”
“All good. The kids are getting so big, it’s unbelievable. Danielle can be our sitter when we have a baby.”
He doesn’t say anything. Every time I’ve brought up the topic of a baby, I get no response.
“I found an awesome fertility doctor in Seattle,” I tell him. “She’s had amazing success with tough cases, and she’s booked three months out. I’ve already made us an appointment.”
