I started coughing and tried to clear my throat. I had to stop sweeping to catch my breath; the place was filthy. I felt like we were in over our heads, but she was happy. That was all that mattered. “Let’s look into it.”
“We can convert it to a live/work space,” she said.
“That’s a great idea. We’ll work on it.”
“With a nursery.”
I stopped sweeping and looked up from the floor. Evey had stopped sweeping too. I scanned her from head to toe. She was wearing a timid smile, leaning on the broom.
“Evelyn,” I said in a warning tone.
“You put a baby in me, Lucian.”
“Jesus.”
“No you,” she said.
The ongoing joke was no longer funny. I was terrified inside, afraid that we’d have to endure the pain of loss all over again.
Stalking toward her, I dropped the broom with a thud, took her in my arms, and held her close. I could hear the baby’s heart beating, like I’d had with Evey’s last pregnancy. Although beautiful, I wished that the sound I was hearing was more reassuring. It would be for normal people. I buried my face in Evey’s neck.
She held me tight and whispered, “Tell me you’re happy.”
My throat tightened. “I’m happy, Evey. Worried but happy.”
“Please don’t worry. Let’s just take this one day at a time.”
I nodded into her neck, but quickly pulled out of her embrace. It hit me, the possibility of it really happenening. I felt intense joy that overshadowed the fear. Real joy that Evey and I could become parents. “I have to go tell someone,” I said excitedly. “How far along are you? How do you know? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m probably about seven weeks. I just wanted to wait until after I missed my period. I wanted to be sure. Brooklyn brought me a test when you were out one day.”
“I’m going to be a father. I have to go tell someone.” I was practically jumping out of my skin.
“You’re so cute. Go, go tell someone. While you’re out, you should look for a suit for Brooklyn’s wedding. It’s in three weeks.”
“Right,” I shouted as I headed for the elevator. I turned on my heel and ran back to Evey, took her in my arms, and spun her around. “I am so happy. I love you so much, but you should be wearing a mask or a ventilator here, okay? I’ll bring you back one. No more sweeping.” I set her down and headed back for the elevator.
“Get a suit, Lucian!”
Running out to the sidewalk, I cloaked myself and took flight, though not a steady flight with my now-very-depleted wings. I called for Zack or Mona and looked around for other angels but found no one I recognized. I really wanted to tell someone, and the only person I could think of was the bartender, Han. I headed for the Star Wars bar, and sure enough, he was working.
He pointed at me as I walked toward the bar. “Bullet neat?”
“Sure,” I said a bit apprehensively. It was only eleven in the morning, but I wanted to celebrate. I sat on a red vinyl bar stool. “So, Han—”
“The name’s Greg,” he interrupted.
“Greg, I have some news.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” There was something unusually familiar about Greg.
He poured my drink and smiled in a knowing way. “What’s happening to you?”
“What do you mean?”
He shook his head. “Never mind. So what’s your news?”
