Robert continued to stir the pasta as if it would magically separate. I had my doubts. “How about we throw this out and start over?”
Robert smiled. “What would I do without you?”
We started again with some fusilli, and soon the house smelled like a starchy, herby Italian kitchen. As I cooked, Robert got under my feet, full of offers to stir this or salt that. I frowned and shooed him away, smacking his hand as he tried to taste. But I loved every second of it.
“I spoke to Neva today,” Robert said after a few minutes. His tone indicated he’d thought carefully about how and when to bring it up.
“Oh?” I continued stirring the pasta but my senses went on high alert. “What did she say?”
“She wanted to apologize to you for running off at the hospital.”
I tapped the spoon on the side of the saucepan and turned around. “Did she say anything else?”
“Not about the father of her baby, no.”
I deflated.
“But she is coming to dinner,” he said.
A squeal tore from me before I could stop it. “Tonight? Really?”
“Yes. But I want us to have a pleasant dinner together. I don’t want you interrogating her about the baby’s father.”
“But it would be such a good opportunity to—” I stopped when I saw Robert’s face. “Fine. Anyway, I know who the father is.”
“She told you?”
“No. I figured it out.”
Robert frowned. “I see.”
“Don’t you want to know who it is?” I didn’t give him the chance to answer. “It’s an ob-gyn that she works with—Dr. Cleary. He’s tall, handsome-ish, and as arrogant as a room of doctors. Rob? Did you hear me?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“As soon as I saw them together, I knew. Che-mist-try. And it makes sense. Neva wouldn’t want to tell me she was having an ob-gyn’s baby, would she?”
“I’m not sure.”
I waited for Robert to say more, but he didn’t.
“You think I’m wrong, don’t you?”
“Not necessarily. I just wonder if your dislike of medical intervention would be enough to evoke such a strong stance from Neva.”
I thought about that. “You’re right,” I admitted. “Neva wouldn’t bother creating such a lie for my benefit.”
“I didn’t say that. I just think there might be a bit more to it. Neva wouldn’t create a drama unless she had no choice.”
I frowned. “You don’t think—?”
“What?”
“I don’t know … that there really isn’t a father?”
Robert coughed, then swiftly covered his mouth with his hand. “No. I don’t think that,” she said. “Even if it were medically possible to become pregnant without a father, do you think Neva would be the first one to get her hands on the technology?”
“I have to consider all possibilities. She’s a midwife. What if she was part of an early trial?”
“You’re not serious, Grace.”
I allowed a smile. “I was. But you’re right. It’s silly.”
Robert came to my side. “You make me laugh, you know that?” He reached over and turned off the heat on the pasta and sauce. “Why don’t we eat this … later?”
There was a distinct glint in Robert’s eye. I hadn’t seen it for a while. “But Neva—”
“—won’t be here for forty-five minutes.”
I hesitated, but only for a millisecond.
We could always make more pasta.