“Our pregnancy,” he said.
I let that sit between us.
He sighed. “She’s excited.”
“Our pregnancy.”
“She can be excited as an aunt.”
“She wants to help.”
“Help with what?”
“The baby.”
“The baby isn’t a family project, Christopher.”
His face shifted, just for a second.
Then he smiled. “Of course not.”
“She wants to help.”
***
The next day, Holly called while I was folding laundry.
“Have you thought about names?” she asked.
“Not seriously. I’m only six weeks along.”
“I always loved Lily.”
“Christopher and I will choose the name in time, Holly.”
“Of course.”
But she didn’t sound sorry.
“I’m only six weeks along.”
***
Two days later, after she sent links for a crib, chair, and rug, I called.
“Holly, we haven’t even cleared the guest room.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I have it handled on my end.”
“The nursery and birth plan are between me, Christopher, and my doctor.”
“Family should be involved.”
“After they’re invited.”
She hung up first.
“I have it handled on my end.”
***
That night, Christopher took a call on the back porch. When I stepped outside, he lowered his voice and slid his phone into his pocket.
“Work doesn’t make you whisper,” I said.
“Can we not turn everything into a problem?”
“Then stop hiding problems from me.”
The following night, his phone lit up while he was in the shower.
I didn’t pick it up.
“Can we not turn everything into a problem?”
