“No.” But that didn’t mean he wasn’t irritating. And after ten years, I didn’t want him back in my life, taking care of my patients, having to communicate with me.
“Then we need to call him for an interview,” Helen said. “Any objections?”
“Helen is right,” Pen seconded. “Can we call him?”
I couldn’t believe it. It was a rare show of solidarity. But all that I could think of was that a case worker was coming tomorrow to vet me as a suitable parent and would soon find that I had no crib, no car seat, no…baby anything but alsono furniturein my house. That made Dylan the least of my worries. “Okay, fine,” I said, surrendering. “Call him.”
Chapter Eleven
Adam
“Ani, you in there?” I asked as I peeked into the screen door of her house on Monday after work. I’d tried the McClellans first, then I’d jogged around the corner and down the street, dog leash in hand, to find all the windows open and figured she might be home. It was a beautiful spring evening, birds singing a riot, buds bursting out everywhere.
Ani’s house was a sweet little Cape Cod, with gray stone and white trim, but the yard was overgrown, and the brick walkway was too.
I told myself not to look around. After all, I was only here to give the dog a good run like I usually did in the evenings.
I was here to do my duty. To Arnold. That was it, and I was sticking to that story. There was no answer, but the wood part of the door was wide open, so I tried again. “Ani! You in there? I thought maybe Arnie would like to come with me on my evening jog. Is he in there with you?”
“Um, yes. Yes, he is,” she said, appearing briefly at the door. “Arnold!” she called. There was a pause. “I’ll be right back.”
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” I called through the screen as she went from room to room in search of the dog. I said it jokingly, but honestly, she was acting a little strange.
She ran back to the door, dog in tow. “We can come out to you,” she said in an overly cheery voice. “Let me grab his leash.”
She left again before I told her I already had one. So I stepped up and opened the door and let myself in.
The smell of fresh paint hit me immediately. I followed it through the empty living room into the kitchen. The old cabinets had been painted a fresh white. Blue and white Delft tiles were scattered amid white ones above the stovetop and in the tile backsplash around a big farm sink. I’d seen the same antique tiles lining the surround of a cozy little fireplace in the living room. The appliances were old but white, so they looked okay. “Cute place,” I said, genuinely appreciating the wood floors, the detailed ceiling moldings.
As Ani clipped the leash to Arnie’s collar, I glanced at her phone, which was sitting on the little peninsula. I couldn’t help but notice it was open to the Pottery Barn website.
I cleared my throat. “Are you…ordering furniture?”
She started to hand me the leash until she saw the one in my hand. I set mine on the counter. “Well, I did order furniture—two months ago. But unfortunately, the delivery got delayed two weeks.” She paused. Outwardly, she was calm, but I detected a slight twitch around her eyes. She was biting down on her lower lip. And she had a sense of nervous energy about her. “Have a nice jog.”
“Okey dokey,” I said in the cheeriest manner possible. As I took her leash, our fingers brushed the slightest bit. I noticed that hers were cold despite the pleasant evening. On the counter sat a lone granola bar wrapper. I was already wondering if she’d had dinner, yet I knew in my gut that she hadn’t.
I forced myself to turn away.
This—whatever our relationship was—was not a carefree, no-strings-attached kind. It was loaded with more hidden grenades than a battlefield. Now more than ever, she needed calm, strength, and certainty. She needed anti-me. So I’d made a conscious decision to back away while she prepared for the baby.
“I’ll be back in half an hour,” I said, letting myself out the door.
“Okay, see ya.” She turned immediately back to her phone.
When I got about twenty feet away, I slowed my steps, much to Arnie’s chagrin. I thought I heard something.
It sounded like…a sob. I kept listening, but I didn’t hear it again.
Arnold tugged. At first politely, then he yanked the chain hard. And shot me a look.You promised.
“Okay, buddy, okay.” But my feet were already backtracking.
My head told me the logical truth. That there was a lot going on here.
What was it about this woman that made me defy logic?
I peeked in the window. Which I know was unfair, but there was Ani, sitting at the peninsula in the empty kitchen, rubbing her temples. “Can’t I pay more for an expedited delivery?” she said into the phone. “I really need the furniture this week.” She hung up the phone and lay her head down on the counter. And this time I confirmed that her sob was real.
