Dan’s mouth falls open, too. They’re twinsies, as Blake would say. But where Kara has flushed, he pales. “I…I… Uh…” He can’t even string two words together.
I smile, and it isn’t even a little bit friendly. “That’s what I thought. Did you cheat?” I point this question at Kara. “If you want to name all my flaws right here in this waiting room, why don’t we look at yours, too?”
“No!” she gasps.
“Seriously?” My voice rises more than I wish it would. “Not sure I believe that. Who has lunch once a week with a male friend for months and never mentions it? You lied, Kara. Fridays with the grandparents.”
“I…” Her voice is shaky from her tears. “I lied. But it wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like?” I snap. I see Hailey scoop up June and carry her toward the elevators. She gives me a reassuring nod over her shoulder to tell me everything is fine with her. I watch the two of them disappear down the hallway, and it calms me down to see them.
“It was…lunch,” Kara whispers. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Later? It’s already later. I spent a year and a half thinking our divorce was all my fault. That I’m a shitty guy nobody will ever want. You did that to me.”
She claps a hand over her mouth, and two fat tears roll down her cheeks.
“Meanwhile—you feel so fucking guilty about falling for someone else…” I give her dentist a mean glare, just because I can. “You keep piling the bullshit on me. ’Cause if you stop, you won’t know what to do with your guilt.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her tears are a river now. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You got a shitty way of showing it,” I say, but the words aren’t cruel. I’m running out of anger very suddenly, the way a car runs out of gas. One minute running strong, the next coughing to a stop.
“Nothing happened between us,” Dan says, deciding to speak up. “I want you to know I didn’t touch…”
“Save it,” I mutter. “You’re both cowards. Could have spared us a lot of trouble by owning up to it in the first place.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Kara babbles.
The set of double doors I’ve been guarding suddenly open and Libby appears, pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse wearing teddy bear scrubs. “Mommy!” Libby yells. “Don’t cry! I’m getting a pink cast. People can write on it with Sharpie. Do we have Sharpies? What’s a Sharpie?”
I watch my ex-wife pull herself together in that freakishly fast way a mother sometimes needs to. She smiles widely and sweeps the heels of both hands across her cheeks. “What color pink?” she asks. “Sharpies are markers and we can buy some on the way home!”
“They had to cut my shirt!” Libby exclaims. “I was very brave.”
“Oh, I think you’re the bravest,” Kara says, and a fresh bunch of tears runs down her face. “Can I come with you when you get your cast?”
“A’course,” Libby says. “Daddy was with me but they wouldn’t let him stay in the x-ray place because of radiators.”
“Radiation,” the nurse says, fighting a smile. “Come right this way, Mrs. Eriksson.”
“I’ll go hang out with June,” I say.
Kara whirls around. “Where is she?”
“With Hailey. Who you need to be nicer to,” I say, even though it’s not the right time. But I’m finally feeling my own power. This woman has had too much control over me for too long.
“We’ll come and find you,” Kara says, looking sheepish.
“I’ll count on it.”
The nurse, Libby, and Kara all disappear behind the double doors again, leaving me with the dentist.
“I just want to say…” he tries.
“Save it,” I snap. “I need to find my kid and my girlfriend.”
I walk away, not caring what he or anyone else thinks. And I go looking for my girls.
Hailey
“He’s really bald,” June says, pointing at the last baby in the row.
“She,” I tell her. “The sign says baby girl. What are we naming this one? It’s your turn to start.”
“Hmm,” June says, and I shift her slightly to give my hip a break. I have to hold her up so she can see into the baby nursery and continue our game. “Jenny.”
“You named someone Jenny already,” I point out. “Her.” I point to a baby in the back row.
“There can be two Jennys,” June points out. “There’s two Ashleys in my pod at school.”
“Hear you. But let’s think of something else for her. She doesn’t look like a Jenny to me.”
“No?” June’s little brow furrows with concentration as she studies the baby. “You’re right. She’s not a Jenny.”
“Yeah. Let’s call her George,” I suggest.
“What?” June yelps, appalled. “That’s a boy’s name.”
“Georgia is a girl’s name.”
“Georgia doesn’t have a hockey team,” June says with mild disgust, causing me to burst out laughing. Once in a while Matt’s girls sound just like him, and it slays me. Every time.
Speak of the devil. Matt appears at the end of the hallway, his phone in hand. I’d texted him where we were, so he wouldn’t worry. Now he smiles at me, and my insides just melt. Not because he’s handsome, though he’s hotter than blazes. But because of the way he looks at me—like we’re sharing a joke and we’re the only two people on Earth who know the punchline.
He looks at me like he loves me.
It’s a huge effort to remember I’m in the middle of a conversation with June. “How about Henrietta?” I offer.
“Nope. Too much like Henry.”
“Anne Marie?”
“Meh.”
“Beelzebub?”
“Hailey!” she giggles.
“Hepzibah? Zebedee?”
“Jeanmarie,” June tries.
“That’s almost like Jenny.”
“Too bad,” June says and I snort with laughter. “Daddy!” she says, catching sight of Matt. “We’re naming babies.”
“All right,” he says. “You named ’em all Matt, right?”
“Nope.” June kicks her legs, making it harder for me to hold her.
Matt reaches for his daughter and lifts her in one smooth motion. “They should all be Matts. Even the girls.”
“Daddy—”
“Your real name is Matt. Did you know that? So is your sister’s.” His arm comes around me while he teases his daughter. “We just call you June so we don’t all get confused.”
I lean my head against his shoulder and smile. A thought prods my consciousness as I listen to his deep, masculine voice converse with June. If I had a baby, what names would Matt like? Whoa there, I tell myself. Now is not the time for that.
Now is not even close to the time for that. Moving on.
“How is she?” I ask.
“Getting a pink cast and bossing people around,” he says, kissing my jaw. “Sorry this day became such a sh…” He stops himself.
“Shit show?” June guesses.
He grunts. “Junebug…”
She blinks innocently. “What?”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. Maybe we didn’t have quite the afternoon we bargained for. But I’m weirdly happy and calm these days. I almost don’t recognize myself. “How do you feel about the name Mandy?” I ask June.
She peers through the glass. “I’ll think it over,” she says after a long, serious pause.
We stand there naming babies, and I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.