Page 76 of Twice
“Alfie? Is that you?”
And there she was, my now-pregnant wife, leaning against the bedroom doorway. She wore a Boston University T-shirt and white sweat pants, her hair matted from sleep, and shesmiled when she saw me as she always did. But quickly, that smile drooped.
“What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“You look funny.”
“I’m just tired. You know those flights.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
She took a big breath.
“So...”
She opened her palms.
“Ready to be a daddy?”
I went to her quickly and squeezed her body against mine. But I never answered the question.
?
Now, I want to explain the next six months, Boss, because I’ve never spoken about them to anyone. I’m not sure I realized their significance until recently. Some events in life you process as they happen. Others take a lifetime to understand.
Gianna loved being pregnant. She followed all the health tips. She stopped drinking alcohol. She even halted certain physical activities like roller skating—which we used to do in the park—just to be safe. She insisted we look for a bigger apartment.
“But I like where we live,” I protested.
“It’s not just you and me anymore, Alfie.”
I accompanied her to the obstetrician and picked up prenatal vitamins at the drugstore. I chased down foods for her cravings. But the more excited she got planning for the baby, the more outside those plans I felt. I grew short-tempered over little things, and we fell into petty arguments, most of which I traveled back and undid, because I didn’t want her remembering this time as combative. I must have saidtwiceat least three times a day.
Gianna could sense I was struggling. She constantly reassured me, rubbing my arm as she lay in my lap, whispering, “Alfie, it’s going to be great. It really is. You’ll be an amazing father.”
I went along, taking deep breaths and hoping the idea would embrace me. Then, one afternoon, early in Gianna’s fourth month, I came home from playing basketball with friends. She was sitting by the window, her hands on her belly.
“I just saw Sam,” I said. “There’s a Brazilian festival by the river tonight. He and Annie want us to go with them.”
“No thanks, Alfie,” she said, smiling.
“Why not?”
“No reason. Just taking it easy with the baby.”
I frowned. “The baby’s not due for five months. We’re allowed to go out.”
“It’s Friday. It’ll be crowded.”
“So? That’s the fun of it. There’ll be music, food.”
“I just don’t want to.”
“What ifIwant to?”
