Page 65 of Canadian Boyfriend

He shot me a look that suggested he didn’t believe me. While I wasn’t in the business of hiding things from Ivan, I didn’t think it was worth explaining everything. Aurora and I were on the same page. We’d agreed to put our surreal few days of making out behind us. So I doubled down. “Look. I like Rory.” It felt strange to call herRory. From the moment I’d met her,she’d beenAurorato me, and more recently, I’d started thinking of her with her whole hippie name.Aurora Lake.The skies of my original home and the lake of my adopted home.Rorydidn’t seem big enough, or beautiful enough, for her. “She’s great, and she really gets Olivia. So we’ve become friends. But I’m not dumb enough to get involved with her.”

Wait. Did “I’m not dumb enough to get involved with her” suggest Iwantedto get involved with her? Damn. I was confusing myself.

I eyed Ivan. Did I need to say more to get him off the scent? “Regardless, it’s too soon.” Wasn’t it? “I can’t do that to Olivia. Even if it’s not too soon for me, it’s too soon for her. I can’t dateanyone. It’s not like I’m going to marry the next person I date. So when it inevitably ends, Olivia will lose another important person in her life. That can’t happen.” There. Even if I was confused about some stuff, I was sure about that.

Ivan nodded and turned his attention to the fire. I allowed myself to relax, and a companionable silence settled. This was familiar. How many hours had I spent sitting next to Ivan while we either zoned out or paid attention to something else? Airplanes, team meetings, fishing on the lake, watching TV in hotel rooms. That’s what I meant about us being more quantity-time than quality-time friends. Obviously, there was an underlying compatibility, but we didn’t talk about our feelings and shit.

“Lauren’s pregnant,” he said, “and I’m afraid you’re going to be mad at me.”

I would have laughed at the timing of that bomb, given how utterly it flew in the face of everything I’d just been thinking about how Ivan and I rolled. But of course when your best friend told you he was going to have a baby, you didn’t laugh.

“Of course I’m not going to be mad at you.” I sounded mad, though, and I hated that. I also hated that I hadn’t started with what I recognized objectively was the most important thing. I started over. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you guys. When is Lauren due?”

“May twelfth.” He paused. “I know we talked about…”

Yeah. We used to joke about how it would be great if our wives got pregnant around the same time. The kids would be honorary siblings. Except for me, it hadn’t been a joke. I’d had it all planned out in my mind.

I had learned the hard way that nothing is guaranteed.

I told myself there and then to try to remember that.

Inside, we found the girls watching the Times Square broadcast. Watching and dancing. A band I didn’t know was playing a peppy, drum-heavy tune, and they were bopping around formlessly. But when the chorus came on, they got into formation and, laughing their heads off, did a dance version of the synchronized choreography they’d been doing on the lake.

Normally I loved watching Olivia and Aurora dance, and sometimes I even let them drag me into it, but as Lauren grinned at Ivan, I mumbled something about refilling drinks and headed for the kitchen.

Ivan’s news had thrown me for a loop. Set me back from my kumbaya, everything-in-the-universe-is-as-it-should-be moment outside. I couldn’t help but wonder what my life would be like now if Sarah and I actuallyhadbeen trying. I wasn’t angry at her anymore, but I was overcome with a kind of wistful sadness, nostalgia for the life I could have had.

I could have been standing here right now, everything the same, except withtwokids.

I wanted that missing kid. I wanted that missing kid so badly it made my throat hurt and my eyes prickle.

Eventually I told myself I was going to miss New Year’s if I didn’t get over my bullshit. So I grabbed a bottle of sparkling wine, a bottle of sparkling cider, and beers for Ivan and me and headed back to the den.

The dancing was done, and Lauren and Ivan were all cuddly on the love seat. I wondered if, when Ivan told me I needed Aurora, he’d really meanttheyneeded her. I wondered if he and Lauren felt they’d bitten off more than they could chew with all they’d been doing for Olivia and me. Regardless, they weren’t going to be as accessible when the baby came.

I handed out drinks and sat next to Olivia on the chesterfield. She snuggled into my side, which had an immediate calming effect. “You remember last year?” she said, her voice muffled by my arm. “Mom wouldn’t let me stay up?”

“Yeah.” There hadn’t been a game on New Year’s Eve day last year. Sarah, who had always been big on the importance of sleep, had done an early countdown at nine. It wasn’t that I disagreed about the sleep thing, but I also didn’t think one night was going to do any harm.

“This is better,” Olivia whispered, pulling away enough to meet my gaze. She had Cheetos residue on her face. Gretchen, apparently a big Cheetos fan, had brought an astonishing number of bags.

“This is pretty great,” I agreed.

“Do you think that’s bad?” she whispered. “To say that something’s better without her?”

“Not at all. Your mom and I didn’t always agree on everything, you know.”

“Really? Like what?”

If she only knew. “My point is it’s OK to enjoy yourself without her. It’s even OK to notice times you’re enjoying yourselfbecauseshe’s not here.”

“I would go to bed early if it brought her back, though. I’d go to bed early every night for the rest of my life.”

Oh God. This night. “I know, kiddo, but it doesn’t work like that.”

“I know,” she said, in a voice that sounded too world-weary for an eleven-year-old.

She perked up as midnight drew near. We counted down and cheered when midnight struck. Well, most people cheered. I hugged Olivia, and my eyes automatically sought out Aurora, who was already looking at me.

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