“Thank you—all of you. This has been wonderful,” Miss Margaret says. “And, Quinn, dear—congratulations! When is your wedding?”
Quinn’s eyebrows rise. “Oh, I’m not getting married!”
“No?” Miss Margaret frowns.
The room goes silent. Everyone looks so frozen and surprised, it could have been a bad Botox party.
“No. I’m having the baby as a single mother, like Brooke. Zack already has a wife.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, of course.” She smooths the covers of herbedding, as if trying to smooth over the gaffe. “Silly me—she was here earlier. My mind just doesn’t work right yet. You’re having Lily’s brother or sister, right? And it’s wonderful—just wonderful.”
Lily looks at Quinn. “You’re having a baby?” she asks.
Apparently she’d been too caught up in discovering that I was her father for the news about the baby to register.
Quinn looks frazzled. “Yes, sweetie, if everything goes right.”
“Whaddya mean?”
Quinn brushes a strand of hair out of Lily’s eyes. “Well, remember when you and your mommy planted those bean seeds? Some of them sprouted and grew into healthy plants and some didn’t. It’s sort of like that right now with the baby. It’s too early to know for sure whether or not it will keep growing.”
“But if it does, I’ll be a big sister?”
“Yes.”
“Yippee!” Lily jumps up and down like a wild thing, hopping across the room.
The aide returns with a wheelchair. A woman wearing a lanyard printed withOccupational Therapistis right behind her.
“I’m gonna be a big sister!” Lily announces, hopping from leg to leg. She points at me. “An’ I just found out he’s my daddy!”
I muster a tense smile for the stunned-faced therapist, then turn to Margaret. “Happy birthday. It was nice seeing you again.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” she says.
“Say good-bye to Grams,” Quinn tells Lily.
“Bye, Grams. I’m gonna be a big sister!”
“Yes, dear. That’s what I hear,” Miss Margaret says.
I hold the door. Lily stops and turns to me.
“Are you coming home with us?”
“What?” I ask.
“Well, now that you’re my daddy, won’t you live with us?”
I’m keenly aware of the occupational therapist and the aide standing in the room, unabashedly listening to every word. I wishLily would just go out the door, but she’s blocking the opening, waiting for an answer.
“No, Lily,” Quinn says. “Zack’s married to Miss Jessica.”
“The pretty lady who got sad?” Lily asks, turning to me.
The aide and the therapist’s eyes get even larger and rounder.
“Um, yes,” I say.
