He really was the perfect running partner. Endlessly positive, never giving up, and never giving me flak.
Until we got to Ani’s street.
“We’re not going down there now, boy,” I said, panting a little as Arnie began to automatically veer to the right.
But Arnold was not having that. He tugged—hard—on the leash.
“Later, boy. Come on. This way.” I pointed straight ahead—no detours.
That stubborn animal sat down right in the middle of the street. With a car approaching, I had to grab him by the collar and tug him out of the way.
“I’m not going over there today, Arn.”
He cocked his head as if to ask,Why the hell not? You know you want to.
“It doesn’t matter what I want. I-I have to cut it off somewhere. It will be better for everyone.” I tugged on his leash and pointed down the street. “Let’s run.”
I guess hearing his favorite word,run, suddenly perked him up, and I was finally able to cajole him back to my street.
I let us into my kitchen. With Arnold lapping up a bowl of water, I looked around at the quiet house. I hadn’t bothered to do any of the things I’d done to Ani’s. No little touches. Basic furniture. The place was clean, but it was a little dark and a lot gray. But uncomplicated. Like my life. Or at least like my life was B.A.,Before Ani. As Anita had called it, sterile.
Except for the gift bags on my countertop. I’d bought the most glittery, floridly pink ones I could find and the brightest green tissue paper to stuff into them.
I’d wanted the presents to shoutgirlall over them.
I grabbed my keys.
If I took Arnold, I wouldn’t have to get that close to the baby. We’d be in and out.
Plus, I reasoned, Ani would be upset if she couldn’t say goodbye to Arnold one last time.
Once again, his fate gave me a stab of heartburn, but I swallowed it down with a drink of water for both of us.
I’d be polite, pop in, wish Ani well, then go back to leading my calm, quiet life.
Which was exactly what I wanted, right?
Ani
“It uses AI to tell you if the baby’s face or nose is covered, or if she coughs, cries, or rolls over,” Penelope said, expounding on all the benefits of the state-of-the-art baby monitor she and Helen had bought me. “It tells you the baby’s body temperature and her breathing and sleep analytics and you get to see her with night vision.”
That sounded like something a Navy SEAL would take out on a recon mission, but what did I know?
“You can even take it with you when you go out, so you know what’s happening with her when she’s with another caregiver,” Helen added.
I was madly in love with Rosalie, but even today, I knew that I didn’t want to monitor her every move when I was out of this house.
I was grateful for everyone and for everything they’d done to welcome Rosalie, from theIt’s a Girl!banner they’d hung above my door to the many wonderful and sometimes high-techie gifts they’d brought me. Especially the one that dispensed a warm bottle of formula in any number of ounces you programmed in thirty seconds or less. I wondered if it would do that for my morning coffee.
But again I wondered, where was Adam? Surely, he’d come to welcome Rosalie home.
I was feeling overwhelmed. I loved everyone, but I wanted to be alone without all these kind well-wishers. At the same time, I dreaded being alone with the baby, because, yes, although I was a doctor and I knew a lot about newborns, I’d never cared for one twenty-four-seven. I had no idea what to expect.
Adam would understand. He’d probably say something funny. Or encouraging. Even his presence calmed me, and I missed it. I missed him, even as I had a sense of disbelief that I had these powerful feelings at all.
I thanked my partners profusely for the wonderful gift that seemed smarter than I was. Next to me, the baby was sound asleep in her bassinet next to the couch, her tiny mouth open, her face turned up.
“Dylan Baird called me again,” Helen said, eyeing me carefully. “He wants to set up a time to talk with you, at your convenience, of course. He wanted to be respectful of your time with the baby.”
