Page 67 of Child of Mine

Thankfully, all the reasons why I shouldn’t have me taking a big step back.

In response, both his eyes and the book’s pages snap closed, and he makes a beeline for the door. “I’ll take it. See you at work.”

Chapter 13

“Last week onOne Way to Live: Ronin interrupts his conversation with Norah by calling Brandy to break a date. Seems he’s promised to take little Tommy to the country. Brandy misunderstands Ronin’s call and rushes off in tears. Laney has a premonition that something tragic will happen.”Soap Opera Land, July 1989

HENRY

The entire drive home, I take my frustration out on my poor truck, slamming on the brakes and taking corners entirely too fast. Christine used to use sex to manipulate me—seducing me when she wanted me to agree to go away for the weekend, withholding sex once we got there because I said something wrong at dinner. I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now.

Once I step inside my apartment, Ribsy whines and noses his leash. I hook it onto his collar. Going over the events of the evening as we go for a final walk of the day, I find calm. Perhaps Bella wasn’t being manipulative. Like me, she could be struggling to do what’s best.

I mean, what were we going to do? Have sex up against a bookshelf or the checkout counter?

The look in her eyes before I closed the parenting book and stepped away wasn’t about getting something she wanted. She was fighting to control her own desire. Because she is a good mom, and her kid—our kid—was asleep alone upstairs.

We can’t screw around and then break up. We have to be in it to win it. Maybe I have to prove to her that I’m as concerned about Lilah as she is before she can trust me. Not just as a co-parent, but as a potential partner.

When Ribsy and I return, he steps on The First Story bookstore bag that I dropped by the front door. After I rescue it from his scrabbling claws and pull out the book inside, it’s clear what I need to do: study this parenting book and every other one I can find and prove that I can be the perfect dad.

That’s got to be the way to win any single mom’s heart.

* * *

Things between Bellaand me personally may be up in the air, but at work we are a team that can do no wrong. Today is the day everyone meets the computer—which has turned out even better than I could have imagined due to an inspired crew—and I’m going to pull out the stops to convince Bella that she needs to be the voice of BETTI.

It seems obvious to me. She’s the actress on the team. She knows the kids. But for some reason, she’s against it.

When I ask if she’ll join me on stage to see the setup, she argues, “I really think we should hire a voice-over person to do this. My friend Jess would be great.”

“You’dbe great. And you’re right here. Already on salary. As a producer, you can do it without us having to pay someone else. I even checked with the union.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she frowns. “I think it’ll be confusing for the kids.”

“They won’t see you, and besides, we have it set up so you’ll sound like a computer.”

When her hands go to her hips and her head drops, I wonder if there’s more behind her resistance than what meets the eye. I don’t want to be a jerk; she’s simply the best person for the job. “How about this? We just try it out. We need to work out the kinks anyway, make sure all the moving parts work like they’re supposed to. We’ll record it, and if you watch it and really hate it, we’ll hire someone else.”

She gives me an assessing look, like she doesn’t really believe me. I raise my right hand in the air and place it over my heart. “I promise. We won’t use what you do unless you completely agree.”

Eyes holding mine for one final beat, she finally throws up her hands in surrender. “All right. I’ll be the rehearsal computer.” Her focus on the set, she asks, “Do I stand behind it, or what?”

“You’ll be in a booth with a monitor, a mic, and headphones. The mic gets run through a synthesizer called a vocoder. What the kids—and everyone else—will hear is a robot-like voice. Here, I’ll show you.” Taking her by the elbow—a seemingly innocuous spot, but any touch gets me going with this woman—I lead her to the large set piece that is our computer, BETTI. “Wait here.”

I jog to the booth nearby, close myself inside, and put on the headphones. When I say, “Hello, Bella,” she whirls around to face the camera and speaker I’ve set up behind BETTI, her hand covering her mouth in surprise.

As I speak, hopefully, lights are going off on BETTI. That’s what’s supposed to happen.

“This is BETTI’s brother, Hal. You wouldn’t want me to scare the kids, would you?”

She scans the set to see if anyone else is around and then gives me the finger. “Bella!” I say, keeping my voice modulated to get the best robotic effect. “How terribly rude of you.”

Hands on hips, she finally cracks a smile. “All right, all right. You’ve convinced me.”

“Then join me here at the mic so Hal can hand the reins over to BETTI.”

Moments later, the soundproof booth door cracks open and Bella steps inside. It takes every bit of self-control I’ve got to yield the space to her. What I want to do is turn the mic off and press every inch of me up against every inch of her. But I need to be patient. And the show needs her.

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