when to start being careful.
 
 Oops. Don’t have to be careful.
 
 Trey won’t be home until spring
 
 break, and that’s still weeks away.
 
 [Remember that ob-gyn thing?]
 
 Yeah, yeah. I’ll get around to it,
 
 maybe even before spring break.
 
 Jeez, maybe I can’t get pregnant.
 
 Maybe having a baby at seventeen
 
 screwed up my uterus, confused
 
 my hormones. [Wishful thinker,
 
 aren’t you?] Anyway, I’m safe
 
 for now. A couple fewer possibilities.
 
 Brad Is a Little Late Tonight
 
 Stopped to see my Mexican amigo,
 
 he explains. Es muy bueno!
 
 The new batch is really good.
 
 Why is it I don’t doubt that?
 
 As we eat dinner, my stomach
 
 churns in anticipation. I can’t
 
 afford to buy much, but I hope—
 
 no, I know—he’ll be generous.
 
 Homework, baths, then bed!
 
 Spoken like a true dad.
 
 We help the girls with their
 
 assignments, hustle them off
 
 to the tub and sweet dreams.
 
 I even read them a bedtime story.
 
 Once they’ve dozed off, Brad
 
 knocks on my door. In the mood?