"Should it?"
"I don't think most men would be thrilled about it."
I shrug. It's hard to explain, but I'll try. "I like you, and that's right about where the thought process ends. Not because of your baby, or despite it. I like you, period. Full stop."
She smiles. Not a beaming grin, but something slower. "I'll accept that response."
We finish the picnic Vivi packed us, including the shortbread cookies I didn't notice. Mallory's flush on her cheeks dissipates, but I smell her on my fingers. It makes me hard.
Mallory asks me more questions about fencing, and what it was like to qualify and compete in the Olympics. I ask her about previous podcast episodes, and where she records.
It ends up being one of the best afternoons I've had in a very long time. I'm not surprised.
With Mallory in the picture, everything feels better. Brighter.
Chapter 32
Mallory
Jolene: One month, Mal. You've officially been gone one month.
Mallory: Little longer than I expected...
Jolene: Have you seen a doctor?
Mallory: Yes. I set up an appointment with the ob-gyn Hugo's sister used. My appointment is tomorrow.
Jolene: Are you going to learn the sex?
Mallory: I haven't decided.
Jolene: I expect you to call me THE VERY SECOND you step out of that office.
Mallory: Pinky promise.
Jolene: On to other topics. Are you hookingup with Hugo?
Mallory: We're not hooking up.
Jolene: You're such a liar. Does he make you wear his gold medal while you ride him?
Jolene: Are you there?
Jolene: Hellooo??
Jolene: Mallory!!!!
When I mentionin passing to Hugo the next morning that I have an appointment, he offers to go with me.
"I can drive you," he says, smearing avocado on a slice of toasted sourdough. He piles a mountain of scrambled eggs on top. This plate is for me, and the only reason I know that is because he was finishing his when I walked in the kitchen a minute ago. "I'll sit in the waiting room, if you'd prefer."
"You have a full day of work," I argue. I don't know why I'm protesting. It would be nice to have somebody there. It's a reflex, this urge to do everything on my own.
"I can make time," he counters.
"Don't worry about it," I say with a wave of my hand, when what I really want to say is something along the lines ofI'd love to have you there with me.But the wordsare already out there, and I'm not sure how to retract them, and Hugo's already changing the topic.
"My mom has asked if you will be joining us at family dinner tonight. It'll be worth your while, I promise. Vivi cooks."
