“The car will roll away, and you’ll be sad.”
“Correct. Point to the gear shift.”
She does.
“Do you touch that?”
“Not until I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s right.” He grins and tousles her hair. “Have fun, Speed Racer.” He steps away, leaving the door open so he can see what she’s doing.
He seems so pleased to watch her steer and then turn to look over her shoulder, pretending to back up, clearly imitating him. Why does he want a boy so bad?
I ask him, quietly, careful that Pearl doesn’t hear. “Why did you pay more for a boy than a girl?”
His smile disappears. “Come on. Let’s sit on the stairs.”
He leads me back toward the house and helps me lower myself to the bottom step. Winnie is conked out in her sling. Pearl is chatting away to herself as she drives, presumably in a parade based on the number of times she’s waving to passersby.
When Adrian joins me on the step, he sits too close. I don’t want to wiggle over and wake the baby, so I glare at him. He manspreads even more so that his thigh presses against mine. I used to love when he crowded me. I read it as affection, but I think it’s just a strategy. Intimidation. Since he’s so close, I let my elbow dig into his arm.
“By ‘pay more,’ do you mean the bonuses for the births?” he asks.
“Are you buying babies other than ours?”
He half-snorts and doesn’t answer immediately. I figure he’s not going to when he finally says, “I had a lot of expectations when I decided I wanted to get married. I guess one of them was that I wanted sons. I wanted daughters, too, butyou know, I’m one of four brothers. I wanted sons who could back each other up, look out for their sisters. The world’s a hard place. You can’t trust anyone.” He grows quiet.
That doesn’t make any sense. “How was paying me more for a boy going to make me have one? It’s the sperm that decides. Sex is on you.”
He blows out a breath and braces his forearms on his thighs. His shoulder bumps mine. “I don’t know. Outcomes are driven by incentive. I’m a businessman. I thought like a businessman.” He sighs again. “Look, back then, I saw all this as a deal. In negotiations, you go in asking for everything—pie in the sky, whatever you’d want in an ideal world—and it’s the other guy’s job to talk you down.”
“And I’m the other guy?”
His jaw flexes. “I saw you that way then, yes.”
“But not now?”
“No.”
“But still you send your lawyers to tell my lawyer that I’ve got to go to dinner with you if I don’t want to lose my kids?”
“Are we talking about the phone call in the bathroom?”
“You can just threaten me yourself. It’d be cheaper.”
He takes a second to respond, like he’s choosing his words. “And what exactly is the threat?”
“You know—if I don’t go to dinner with you, you won’t renegotiate the prenup.”
Adrian nods, his face suddenly unreadable. “That sounds more like an enticement to me than a threat.”
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”
That throws him a little. His lip twitches. “So you’ll go to dinner with me?”
“I was told it’s a business dinner.”
“Yes. Of course. Dinner with clients.”
