18
Maggy
“Say what?”
I knew Robin would react this way. “He’s been over here every night this week.”
“Every night?” I hear her breathing. “Staying over?”
“No.” I make a choking sound. “He brings dinner. Or I make dinner. We talk. Watch television.”
“What the hell?”
“I know.”
“Has he tried anything? You know, kissing? Anything?”
I wish.
Wait, no, I don’t.
“He hugged me as he left last night.” Besides the day he held my hand when we talked about my mom, that hug was the first real contact we’ve had since the night we… well, made this baby.
“What do you think this means?”
Nothing.
“I don’t know. I assume it’s just guilt about everything.”
“Has he said any more about after the baby comes?”
We don’t talk about the baby, per se. “No.” I pause. “Well, he brought up the papers again. You know, for the trust.”
“You haven’t signed those yet?”
I’ve signed them, but I haven’t sent them back. “Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not ready.” To give up. I know I’m living in a fantasy world if I think for one second that Nate Black is going to stick. He’s not. Hell, I’m surprised every day when he rings my bell. Every evening when he leaves, I assume it’s the last time I’ll see him, but then, the next day, there he is.
“You need to get ready. You’re getting closer.”
Don’t I know it. My baby bump has finally popped.
* * *
“What’dyou bring for me tonight?” I ask Nate as he steps through my doorway. Whatever he’s carrying smells amazing.
“Pasta from Manzoni’s.”
“Manzoni’s? I heard that place was amazing.”
“It is.” He smiles at me as he passes. “You’re about to find out for yourself.”
Goody, because I’m starving.
I watch him pull out several items from the sack. “Salad,” he says, pushing over the first container. “You have a choice of lasagna or ravioli.”
