I wipe her mouth with a damp cloth and kiss her cheek.
“I could so easily love you,” I whisper. “We are doing this one day at a time.” I kiss her lips; she smells like mint toothpaste. “I think you should spend your time in the hot tub. Let me take care of entertaining. I’ll be nice. I promise.”
“I’m not sure you can.” I’m pretty sure she’s teasing.
It was a stretch, but I managed to be pleasant. I’m not sure I hit as high asnice, but accommodating. The boys splashed and sprayed water everywhere. Don’s grilling was surprisingly delicious. Selena and Celeste got time to talk, sequestered in the hot tub.
I learned all about fly fishing—Don’s favorite vacation activity.
“Well, I’ll have to take you out when you and Sel come to Iowa.”
“Sounds fantastic,” I lie.
Not once did he ask me about my life. But what would I say?I’m about to forcefully acquire a small family-owned firm so I can become a managing partner in a corporation that essentially fucks people over for money.
Probably wouldn’t go over well.
Instead, what do we talk about? The baby.
“Fatherhood is the best,” Don says, and I genuinely think he believes it.
“It’s definitely a stage of life.”
“You having a boy or a girl?” he asks.
“Too soon to tell,” I say.
And I haven’t really given it much thought until this moment.
I’d be terrified of raising a girl. I fear I’d become a serial killer going after men like me in droves. I wouldn’t have any of them touching her. For one second, I think of Selena. Would her father want her married to me?
No.
If we have a boy... well, perhaps I could teach him to love women better. We could both dote on his mother.
The thought has me tearing up a little. That’s a family I could handle.
24
SELENA
In my dreams, I’m walking endless miles through the Bronx Zoo. I’m holding Clay’s teddy bear because he refuses to carry it. I have Cliff’s hand in mine. And beside us, Griffin walks along, offering me sips of Gatorade through a straw like I’m a prize fighter in the late rounds.
I’m mildly impressed that he remains childless throughout the entire day. I think my family is a little afraid of him, but that’s okay. He’s a little afraid of them, too.
“No, I don’t want to ride the monorail again... I’m pregnant and I have gastro-something...” I mumble, still mostly asleep.
“I know.” Griffin’s voice is soft. “I brought you ginger tea and a bagel.”
The scent of toasted bread hits my nose, followed by the sharp, clean smell of ginger. I crack one eye open.
“Salted butter?” I ask.
“With everything seasoning,” he adds with a smile.
“In bed?” I sit up quickly and immediately regret it as the room spins.
He presses me back against the headboard, handing me the plate. “In bed,” he affirms, sliding next to me with a small cup of very strong coffee.
