“Well…you’re not suggesting…” My voice trails off as I motion between us, but his face remains blank.
I finish my thought. “You’re not suggesting that we have sex?” I say. “To get pregnant?”
“Oh. God, no,” Gabe says, making a face. “Nothing like that. We’d still use this doctor lady. And we’d be totally status quo on the friendship front….”
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “But wouldn’t that be weird?”
Gabe shrugs. “Maybe…but I don’t know…I think it would be more like having Revis together.”
“But Revis is a dog,” I say.
“I know that.”
“And besides, Revis is mine.”
“C’mon, that’s a technicality and you know it. Who walks him more? Who takes him out at night? Who paid that last monster vet bill when he ate that sock?”
“It was your sock,” I say. “That you left out.”
“C’mon, Josie. Whose bed does he sleep in if given the choice?”
“It’s fifty-fifty,” I insist.
“Bullshit. That dog loves me more, and you know it.”
I start to protest, but Gabe is on a roll. “Bottom line, I love Revis as my own. I’d do anything for him. And I’d take him if anything ever happened to you.”
“What if we got into a fight?” I say.
“We do get into fights.”
I shake my head. “No, not like stupid arguments over leaving dirty dishes in the sink,” I say. “A real fight.”
“Don’t be dumb,” he says. “You know that wouldn’t happen.”
“It could.”
“Okay. You’re right. It could. And if it did, we’d be like other divorced couples who share custody. Only we were never married in the first place. We’d just be skipping that part.”
I nod, though I’m having trouble believing what I’m hearing. “What does Leslie say about this?”
“I haven’t discussed this with Leslie.”
“You think she’d be okay with it?”
“I do, actually,” he says, so quickly that it’s clear he’s given it thought. “I mean—here’s the way I look at it. What if I already had a kid? Would she not date me?”
“I have no clue,” I say. “I barely know her. Maybe she wouldn’t.”
“Well, if not, that would make her shallow. And I don’t do shallow. So better to find out now.”
“I don’t necessarily agree with that,” I say. “I’m not sure I’d want to be with a guy who is having a baby with another girl.”
“Well, then you’re shallow,” he says with a smile. “And anyway, I really like Leslie…but she’s not the deal breaker here.”
“Are you sure?” I say. “I thought you might be falling in love.”
“I might be,” he says. “But that’s irrelevant. If we did this—it would be our decision. You and me. Together.”
I stare at him for a dizzying few seconds, trying to process everything. “So are you telling me that you actually want a baby?”
“No,” he says. “I never said that. But I don’t not want a baby. And I want you to have a baby if that’s what you want.”
“That’s not very convincing,” I say.
“I’m not trying to convince you,” he says. “I’m just making an offer. Take it or leave it….”
I give him a hug, welling up a little, whispering that this might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to do for me.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, pulling away with a big yawn. I notice that his eyes stay open, a telltale sign that it’s a fake yawn, and that he’s merely looking for a transition, uncomfortable with my display of emotion. Sure enough, he announces that he’s going back to bed, then turns and abruptly walks out of the kitchen.
“Good night, Gabe,” I call after him. “I fuckin’ love you!”
“Love you, too, potty mouth,” he mumbles on his way up the stairs.
chapter twenty-two
MEREDITH
The Friday after Josie’s birthday, on the afternoon I’m supposed to fly to New York, Harper has a meltdown that has absolutely nothing to do with me leaving—or her earlier realization that I will be missing trick-or-treating on Monday, a source of considerable maternal guilt. Instead, in a case of life imitating art, she has seemingly lost her beloved stuffed animal, just like the little girl in Knuffle Bunny, Harper’s favorite Mo Willems book.
“Where did you last see it?” Nolan asks her—a question that has always mystified me, and seems especially ridiculous when posed to a hysterical four-year-old.
“I. Want. Raaaaa-bby!” she sobs in response.
“I know, sweetie,” I say, looking under the sofa, though I know he’s too big to fit under it. “We’ll find him. I promise.”
Nolan clears his throat and says, “Um. We probably shouldn’t make any promises. If you get my drift.”
I look up at him, still on my knees, and my heart drops, considering that they just returned home from a father-daughter outing to Legoland.
“Nolan,” I say slowly. “Are you trying to tell me something here?”
“Maybe?” he says, his voice rising in a question, looking panic-stricken.