Wang looked uncomfortable in his chair. “I saw your e-mail.”
“Which one?” Simons asked. “The one from yesterday or the one I sent at three o’clock this morning?”
Oh, give me a break, I thought. Simons would have to work in a mention of the time of his e-mail. He was the sort who e-mailed at all hours just to prove he was more dedicated than everybody else. He was also the sort of officious jerk who would make sure everyone knew about his great sacrifice.
“I’m not sure,” Wang said, shifting in his seat. “But I did see it.”
“Well, I got the idea from one of Patrice’s papers on thermal conductivity in nanotubes. I practically have it memorized.”
Patrice perked up at the mention of her name (or the flattery), and Simons, arms crossed, looked impatiently at Wang.
Wang launched into all the reasons why we shouldn’t integrate Simons’s enhancement to try to increase conductivity. Simons rolled his eyes and laughed at most of Wang’s reasons in a mocking way. This went on for some time.
I tuned out, thinking about Max and Lily and becoming a father again. Would my new son or daughter be into soccer, like Max? Or would it be ballet, or horses, or art? I was daydreaming about having a yard with a play structure in it again, and it was at that moment I realized I wanted this as much as Anna.
“What do you think, Gage?”
Patrice’s voice only sort of pulled me out of my fog.
“I think it’s a great idea,” I said.
Wang looked appalled.
“That means you’ll have to redo all of your production tests before the demo?”
I shook my head. Obviously I was not fully engaged. “What? Oh, I’m sorry, guys. I guess I let my thoughts wander. I don’t think we should do anything different right now. We’re stable, and it’s too close to the demo to be fiddling with any formulas. No offense, Matt. But I say it’s an emphatic no, now is not the time.”
Mamatha agreed but looked curious about something.
“What’s a good idea then?” she asked.
I laughed at myself, embarrassed.
“My wife and I are going to adopt a baby,” I announced. “I was thinking about how excited I am, and well, it just sort of slipped out.”
Everyone broke into broad smiles—except for Simons, who apparently was still seething about not getting his way.
“That’s wonderful news,” said Patrice, who knew my history.
“Yeah,” I said. “It really is wonderful.”
CHAPTER 9
As soon as the yellow cab made the turn onto our street, Anna and I raced down the porch stairs to greet Lily curbside. I had offered to pick Lily up at her friend’s house, where apparently she’d been couch crashing, but she insisted on taking a cab.
“She doesn’t want to be an inconvenience,” Anna explained after I protested. “Let her do whatever makes her feel most comfortable. If she wants to take a cab here, then she should take a cab.”
The hours leading up to Lily’s arrival passed slowly and with much anticipation. I felt like I was about to meet a long lost relative. Even though I’d seen Lily twice before, this encounter had the feeling of being a first, and a significant one at that. The moment the cab door opened and Lily stepped out, our lives would be interlocked like a ball of twine, its string unable to be unraveled.
Anna clutched my hand, leaning on me for support. We stood curbside, beneath a cloudless sky, while a soft and warm breeze pushed fragrant air through Anna’s long and wavy hair. Our pleasant street bustled with the usual Sunday activities, and our neighbors busied themselves with their business.
We were dressed for an occasion: Anna in a purple, sleeveless cowl-neck top with dark jeans, and me in a short-sleeved button-down shirt. Clutching my hand tighter, Anna whispered, “I’m so nervous, Gage.”
“Everything will be great,” I whispered back, not sure why I whispered.
The world appeared brighter to me that day, the sky, the trees, the grass, everything, and I realized this heightened awareness came without the benefit of Adderall. My own excitement had turned palpable, a drug unto itself. Anna’s skin looked to be glowing, her joy equaling, if not surpassing, my own.
“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Anna said.
No sooner had Anna voiced her enthusiasm than Karen and Max came to mind, casting a cloud across an otherwise glorious day. A part of me would always long for them, for my wife and son, but that didn’t dampen my enthusiasm for Lily’s pending arrival.
The realization that Anna and I would soon become parents created a seismic shift in my perspective and thinking. My marriage to Anna could not close the door to the past. But waiting for Lily, for the first time since the accident I had a profound sense of truly moving on with my life.
The cab pulled to a stop. Lily emerged wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt, jeans with holes, and those black-laced boots she seemed to favor. Shielding her face from the sun’s glare, Lily assessed our neighborhood anew with a guileless, childlike wonder. After a moment’s pause, Anna and Lily embraced—not for long, but more than a friendly hello. Meanwhile, I hefted Lily’s green suitcase out of the cab’s trunk, brought it over to the curb, and paid the fare.
“I can get that,” Lily said to me. “I had a good night, tips-wise.”
“Nonsense,” I said while giving the cabbie a hefty tip. His smile back at me said he just got away with something.
Lily had packed her life inside a piece of green hardcase luggage with silver tone latches and white stitching on the sides. It looked like something from the 1970s, retro in design, and also lighter in weight than I anticipated.
“Do you have enough in here?” I asked, lifting the suitcase with no more effort than curling a five-pound weight.
“I don’t own much,” Lily said. Her eyes widened as the cabbie started to pull away. “Oh, wait, there’s another bag in the trunk!”
I whirled right and smacked the cab twice with the palm of my hand. The cabbie popped the trunk when he saw me in his side mirror. The brown paper bag I had missed was tucked to the side by the spare tire. In the dim light I saw the end of a wrapped present sticking out. I showed the bag to Lily, who confirmed with a nod that I’d retrieved the forgotten item.
“Those are for you guys,” Lily said, pointing to the bag. “It’s nothing much. Just a couple presents, but I’d have hated to leave ’em behind.”
Anna looked touched. “You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.”
“It was no trouble at all,” Lily said. “I’m just so excited to be here. I guess I can’t believe this is really happening.”
With Lily’s suitcase and brown bag of presents in hand, I climbed the porch stairs, opening the door to what now was Lily’s new rent-free home—at least until the baby was born. Anna and I hadn’t discussed plans for Lily after the baby’s arrival. We’d probably give her a few months to rest and recuperate, but after that I thought it would be best if we had a bit of distance from each other. Lily’s constant presence might inhibit Anna and me from bonding with the new baby. I wasn’t sure if that would be so. It was just a thought I had. We hadn’t even talked about how “open” this adoption would be. Those were details still to be worked out. This was all new territory. To accommodate Lily’s need for a speedy decision, we’d made one of our own.
We were advised by the lawyer Anna hired to draft a postadoption contract agreement as a written commitment to the level of openness. The lawyer would prepare all the required documents as the process went along, but this agreement, we were told, would help to dispel any fears about each party’s role in the child’s life. Would Lily see pictures of the baby? If so, how often would they be supplied? Could she visit? What role, if any, would she play in the child’s life? While it might not be legally binding, it was believed a postadoption contract would establish ground rules that would be important later on. We obviously had much to consider and discuss.
Lily and Anna followed me up the narrow wo
oden staircase to the second-floor apartment. As soon as Lily stepped inside, her eyes widened with delight. Sunlight spilled in through the large bay windows and bathed the place in a beautiful, natural glow.
“Oh, my goodness,” Lily cried, her hands covering her mouth. “I’m going to be living here?”
Lily walked through the small entrance foyer and came to a stop in the center of the living room. She twirled on her heels, taking everything in. We rented our upstairs unit fully furnished because it cut down on the damage from tenants moving in and out. Lily looked around, her hands still covering her mouth. This was a girl who last night had been sleeping on what might have been a ratty sofa. Now, judging by her expression, she was living in a palace.
“This is nicer than anyplace I’ve ever lived.”
Lily brushed her long hair back across her shoulders. Her hair was shiny, freshly washed, and the strands fell together like she was filming a Pantene commercial. I couldn’t decide if she was more blond than brown, and that made me wonder what color hair the baby would have. I wondered, too, what the father looked like, but remembered Lily wasn’t entirely sure of his identity. Would this man ever come forward? Did he have parental rights? More questions for the lawyer.
Anna began the tour and I followed, noticing Lily’s mannerisms more than listening. She kept playing with her fingernails, chipping away at the little bit of polish there.
While she stood still, Lily’s fingers always found a strand of hair to twirl, yet another nervous habit. Again, I wondered what mannerisms our child would inherit. Would the baby grow up to be fidgety like Lily, an anxious waiflike child with darting eyes and bouncy feet? Would he or she have Lily’s arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, small nose, and hair perfectly suited for twirling? Freckles? Would the baby’s skin be creamy white like Lily’s? I didn’t know the father’s race and I didn’t care at all. What I wanted most for Anna and myself was what I wanted for Karen and myself before our son was born—a healthy baby to love.
“Now, we keep linens in here,” Anna said, opening the door to our (no, make that Lily’s) linen closet.
“Oh, my God, sheets,” Lily said, as if she’d been waiting for this moment all her life. She ran her hand along the edges of our guest linens and towels from downstairs that we had moved upstairs. “Fluffy towels! Oh, my gosh. Can I take a shower later? I don’t want to bad-mouth my girlfriend, but it’s been like sleeping in a frat house over there.”
“Lily, sweetheart, you can take a shower whenever you’d like. This is your home now.”
Lily giggled as she followed Anna into the kitchen.
Questions nipped at the back of my mind, but they could wait. What happened to her boyfriend? Was he going to demand a paternity test? Had she told anybody about what’s going on? Did her frat house friend even know? Each minute spent together brought new reminders that we were a living oxymoron—we were intimate strangers.
I heard Lily yell delightedly from inside the kitchen. When I passed through the entranceway I saw her bent over, peering into the refrigerator.
“It’s stocked with real food,” Lily said, clasping her hands together, still peering inside.
“Now, I didn’t know if you’ve been having nausea,” Anna said, “but hopefully you’ll be able to eat what’s here.”
“I want to eat it right now,” Lily said. “I’m starving!”
“You want to have a lot of folic acid in your diet,” Anna said. “It’s really the best for proper brain and nervous system development, so the spinach, kale, broccoli, all of that is really good food for the baby. Ideally you’d get between 600 to 800 micrograms of folic acid a day.” Anna stopped speaking, put her hands on her hips, and shook her head, dismissing herself. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I got carried away. I shouldn’t be putting all this on you right now. I read a bunch of baby blogs before I went food shopping. Please forgive me.”
Lily closed the refrigerator door—finally—and approached Anna. I saw a maturity to her that I’d not seen before, as though she had gone from being a twentysomething to a thirtysomething in a matter of steps. She reached out with her arms and embraced Anna in a brief but comforting hug.
“That’s so sweet of you,” Lily said as they broke apart. “I just want you guys to have a healthy baby. I’ll take whatever advice I can get.”
Anna seemed to get emotional, dabbing at her eyes with the tips of her fingers.
Lily craned her neck and looked back at me over her shoulder. A secretive, sly little smile creased the corners of her mouth. I was sure the look was meant to say, I hadn’t forgotten about you, Gage, but something about the exchange disturbed me.
“The bathroom is right down the hall,” Anna said, continuing with the tour.
I fell into step behind them, forgetting all about Lily’s odd facial expression. While the ladies talked, laughed, and shared with ease, I kept trying to get a read on what we’d just become. I wasn’t about to tell Anna that I felt like two future grandparents committing to raise our daughter’s unwanted child. Yet that was what we appeared to be. I looked like a guy who took up golfing late in life (which I had), Anna was the businesswoman, and Lily seemed to have mastered the just-got-out-of-bed look.
While I felt weighted by doubt, Anna floated across the floor, breezing in and out of rooms as the tour continued, her expression radiating a joy that could not be contained.
“I’ll show you the laundry downstairs soon as we’re done,” Anna said as we vacated the bedroom.
“I can’t tell you how great it’s going to be to sleep on a real bed,” Lily said. “Say, before you show me the downstairs laundry I want to give you guys your presents.”
“You really didn’t need to go to the trouble,” Anna said. “Gage and I just want you to feel at home here, that’s all.”
“It was no trouble at all,” Lily said. “I want you both to know how much I appreciate your taking me in the way you did.” Lily patted her stomach. “Though I guess we’re both getting something out of the deal.”
I felt like a human trafficker. I’ll trade you an apartment for a kid. Even Anna’s look showed displeasure.
Lily took notice. “Oh, guys, I didn’t mean it that way. I just wanted you to know that I’m totally okay with what we’re doing. I don’t know if you’re worried that I’m going to change my mind or anything, but don’t be. I’m not. I can tell you’re going to be amazing parents. I guess I’m just so sure of this decision that I wasn’t being very sensitive. I’m sorry if I sounded like a jerk just now.”
Anna brushed aside Lily’s apology with a wave of her hand.
“I’m actually glad you said that,” Anna said, nodding her head repeatedly as she tended to do whenever broaching uncomfortable territory. “We both want you to feel completely comfortable with us. And please know that you can talk to us about anything. Honestly, anything. Any doubts or concerns you may have. This is obviously an unusual circumstance, and we need to be open and honest about what we’re getting ourselves into here. So I’m glad you shared with us.”
“Me too,” I said.
That comprised the extent of my contribution to the conversation.
Me too.
In truth, my thoughts were occupied by Lily’s light packing job, wondering how that meshed with her being here for the next two trimesters. Did Lily’s lack of clothing suggest a subconscious worry about getting cold feet? Could it be conscious worry? Did she just need a place to crash, and we were easy marks? I hadn’t considered the ramifications of Lily’s changing her mind midstream until now. One look at Anna, who already loved the baby growing inside Lily’s body, suggested the emotional consequences would indeed be dire. We were in, and we were in deep.
Lily left us to retrieve her bag of presents from the foyer. When she returned, Anna and I were already seated on the couch.
“This is for you,” Lily said, handing Anna a square package wrapped in white paper decorated with dancing elves, snowflakes, and floating Christmas trees. “
I’m sorry about the paper,” Lily said. “It was all my friend had in her closet.”
“It’s putting me in the holiday spirit,” I said. “Eggnog, anyone?”
Lily pointed to her belly once again. “Better make mine a virgin.”
Anna laughed warmly as she began unwrapping the present with careful attention, perhaps thinking this tiny scrap of paper should be saved for the baby book.
“It’s obviously a CD,” Lily said, sounding embarrassed by the size and content of the gift.
When Anna finished unwrapping, she squealed with delight.
“Tony Bennett,” she said, showing me the package. “I love his voice. Thank you.”
Lily shrugged.
“I wanted to get you an iPod shuffle, but they were too expensive. I just figured everybody loves Tony.”
“How do you know his music?” I asked. Subtext: aren’t you too young to know about Tony Bennett?
“He’s been on Ellen a bunch,” Lily said. “With my job I get to watch a lot of daytime TV. I love his music. I’m sort of an oldies fan. In fact, I’d play it all the time—if I had a music player, that is. My boyfriend, my ex-boyfriend, kept mine and he won’t give it back. He’s such an ass.”
“Well, I love Tony Bennett,” Anna said, holding up the CD. “And I have an iPod shuffle, but I don’t have any of his music on it. So thank you for this.”
Anna stood and gave Lily a quick peck on the cheek. From virtual strangers to cheek peckers in under an hour must be a record. For all intents and purposes, we were a family. We hugged. We kissed. We exchanged presents.
Lily handed me a much larger gift, wrapped in the same paper as the Tony Bennett CD.
“Here is yours, Gage. I really hope you like it.”
Lily’s nervousness came across as endearing. Her excitement proved contagious, and I wanted very much to know what she had picked out for me. I felt bad for considering that she had ulterior motives, plans to live off us and then skip town with the baby. Her sweetness I found truly touching. I ripped the paper, not planning to save it for the baby book.
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