Page 237 of The Baby Bargain
"About half the time." She pushes through a wave of nausea. "He's a great cook. He took over after Mom died. Mostly… well, I guess he mostly makes pasta. The same three dishes too."
"You never noticed because you love pasta?"
"No, it's more… I could feel the love he put into it, you know?"
I nod. I do.
"I hope I can do that."
"You will."
"But what if she doesn't feel it?"
"She will. Trust me. You're brimming with love, Ariel."
"What if… I've been thinking, um, well… I just worry. What if it's not enough, having a mom and her uncles? What if she needs a dad?"
My chest gets light. I want that. But I can't push her. Not now.
"I guess… uh…" Her eyes go wide. "That's not it. I just… uh, can you give me a minute?"
"Sure." I turn my back to her. Focus on dicing chicken, warming butter in a pan, starting a sauté.
The water boils.
I crack pasta. Set the timer. Add spinach to the sauté.
Ariel sits on the couch, fingers wrapped around the bowl, eyes on the floor.
She stays like that as I finish dinner and bring it to the kitchen table.
I pour her club soda and water then I help her to the table.
She looks up at me like I'm her savior.
I love that feeling.
I love the way she looks at me.
I love all of this.
"You're still glowing." I place her silverware next to her plate.
"Is it the nausea face that's doing it?"
"No, it's you."
"I still can't… ugh." She turns to the bowl. Hugs it to her chest. "Sorry, you don't have to stay."
"I'm staying."
"But you don't have to—"
"I know."
"Okay, I just… you didn't agree to take care of a needy pregnant woman."
"Try and stop me."
