Every Wrong Reason

She grinned at me. “That’s adorable.”


“Then he’d quote the movie for weeks. ‘Now I have a machine gun, ho ho ho.’” I picked at the seam of my couch. “I’ve actually missed it this year. I can’t make myself watch any of the other stupid movies. I just want Bruce Willis with hair.”

In a soft, caring voice, she said, “Maybe you just want Nick.”

Now the tears came. I held them back, but I felt them hot and broken against my eyes. “It’s too late for us, Fi. I promise it is. I know you’re all about rainbows and unicorns, but there is no fixing us. We are beyond broken.”

I could tell she wanted to say more, but this time she didn’t. She reached out and squeezed my hand and discussion moved to gossiping about everyone we went to school with.

It amazed me how she was able to keep up with everyone. She was like an internet detective.

It was actually kind of scary.

An hour later, Gigi woke up and our quiet afternoon turned to mayhem. Gigi had not woken up happy and Jack was bored with Legos now that his sister was around to bother him. Fiona bundled them all up again and herded them toward the door. We said goodbye and promised to do this again soon.

It wouldn’t happen for months, but the promise was enough to keep us optimistic.

“I’ll come to you next time,” I told her. “That way you don’t have to do this again.” I waved at the coats, hats, mittens, boots and other little odds and ends that had taken us twenty minutes, even working together.

“Don’t you dare,” she huffed. “You would be horrified by the mess. Besides, it’s good for us to get out of the house. I swear to god, sometimes it feels like I’m a prisoner there.”

“Stop,” I laughed. “You’re so dramatic.”

“It must be why we’re such good friends. We understand each other.”

I gasped, surprised by her dig. “What does that mean?”

She just winked at me. She picked up the baby in his car seat and wobbled. “Geez, this thing is heavy.”

“The thing being your baby?”

Her eyes went big and defensive, “Yes! He’s huge!”

“Love you, Fi.”

“Love you too, K.” She kissed my cheek and gave me a quick squeeze. “I’m not giving up on Nick,” she whispered. “Or you.”

Then she turned around and yelled at her kids to get in the car before they froze to death. I didn’t have a chance to ask her what she meant by that or why she couldn’t just let us go. She disappeared out the door before I could even formulate a sentence.

I watched her go with a swirling sense of dizziness. My hands landed on my abdomen and I couldn’t help but feel the fresh, sharp disappointment that nothing had come of my one-night stand with Nick.

I hadn’t even thought a child was a possibility until he said something in our mediation. I had stopped letting myself entertain the idea a long time ago.

But I also wondered about my motive for having a baby. What Fiona and Austin had was incredible. They loved each other like nobody I had ever known. They loved having babies too. Their children were born out of love and mutual respect for each other. They were born into a home filled with laughter and affection. They were raised by parents who adored each other.

When Nick and I first started talking about having a baby, it seemed more a way to fix our splintering marriage than anything else. I had thought a child would force him to grow up… to get a real job. And I was ninety percent sure he’d assumed that if I had a child, I would get off his case.

But the longer we tried without results, the more I realized I wanted one. I had this hole inside of me… this baby-sized emptiness. I wanted to be a mother. I wanted to see the result that would be an even mixture of Nick and me.

Would he have Nick’s eyes?

Would she have my good skin?

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