I look up at him. “No. Never.”
Scooter whimpers on the cushion. Then he squats and pees on it.
Jacob turns to him. “Oh no, Scooter. You’re supposed to pee on the paper, remember?” He picks him up and gently deposits him on the newspaper by the front door, but it’s too late and Scooter has no idea why he’s over there, except maybe to be introduced to the scent of my shoes—an old, worn pair of loafers. He sniffs the left one and starts to chew on the tassel.
“No, Scooter,” Jacob says. He scoops him up again and holds him like a football. “That’s not for you.”
Watching them, I realize I’ve been standing in a state of paralysis. In an attempt to shake myself out of my stupor, I look down at the test again. It wasn’t the result I’d been expecting, and I feel completely unraveled.
Jacob moves closer. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.”
He sets Scooter on the floor and gives me his full attention. “Are you disappointed?”
There’s nothing but compassion in his tone, and I’m grateful that he’s always sensitive to my feelings. “Of course not,” I reply. “I was terrified of being pregnant.”
Yet something in me feels deflated, and I don’t know what to make of it. I lift my watery gaze to meet his. “But maybe I am alittledisappointed. When I started to imagine us getting married and living together ...”
He nods. “I feel the same way. I kind of liked the idea. Although I don’t know how our parents would have taken it.”
“I’m pretty sure mine would have supported our decision, under the circumstances,” I tell him. “They would have helped us.”
We stand there in silence, our eyes locked, as if the world around us has faded away, and in that brief, fragile moment, a warmth swells in my chest. My heart feels full.
“Let’s cook some burgers,” he says. “I’m starving.”
“Me too.” I head for the kitchen. “Come on, Scooter. It’s time for supper.”
He trots happily to follow but stops when Jacob picks up the red cushion with pee on it and tosses it into the washing machine with some powdered detergent. He shuts the lid and presses the Start button, and when the water begins to hiss through the pipes, Scooter runs and tries to hide between my feet.
Before bed, we discuss the new sleeping arrangements and decide it would be best to train Scooter to sleep on his cushion on the floor in front of the closet. Not in bed with us, because we can’t let him think he’s king of the castle. Besides, he might pee on the blankets.
After I brush my teeth and change into my pajamas, I retrieve the red cushion from the dryer. It’s still warm when I place it on the floor.
“Come on, Scooter. Time for bed. Lie down.”
He seems to understand the command, or maybe he just wants to be close to me. Either way, I’m pleased when he curls up on the cushion.
“What a good boy.” I pat him for a few minutes until his eyes close and his breathing slows. His little paws twitch, and I suspect he’s dreaming about stinky shoes.
Jacob walks in with his toothbrush still in his mouth and gives me a thumbs-up for getting Scooter settled. He returns to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth, and I quietly rise to my feet and crawl into bed.
Jacob joins me a moment later, slides under the covers, and switches off the lamp.
We face each other and embrace, our bodies linked by the emotional heights of the day. He inches closer and buries his face in the crook of my neck.
“It doesn’t matter what the test said,” he whispers. “I still want to marry you.”
“I want to marry you too,” I say breathlessly, because I never imagined I could love anyone like this.
His hand traces the curve of my hip, and his mouth is hungry for mine. I cling to him, this man who is the other half of my soul. I know he’s the one I’m meant for—the only man I’ll ever love.
I hear a noise in the night and wake groggily to realize it’s Scooter, crying on the cushion. I nudge Jacob. He’s asleep on his stomach, his cheek planted deep in the pillow.
He lifts his head. “What is it?”
Scooter bawls, and we both sit up.
