Chương 2
They were at David’s mother’s house, waiting to hear whether they had a baby brother.
I suddenly pictured David arriving there angry.
I pictured him telling them I had destroyed our family.
“Don’t involve them,” I said.
“They’re my children.”
“They’re ours.”
“Those four are.”
The room went very quiet.
Even David seemed to hear what he had said.
Our son squirmed against me.
I put my palm over the back of his tiny head.
Dad raised the encrypted phone again.
This time I did not stop him.
He made one call.
“I need counsel at Inova,” he said when someone answered.
He listened.
“No, not for me.”
Another pause.
“Family law, criminal if necessary, and someone who understands military-adjacent security issues.”
David snorted.
“Military-adjacent security issues?”
Dad ignored him.
“No favors,” he said into the phone.
“No pressure on local authorities, no calls to anyone’s employer, and nothing off the books.”
That surprised me enough that I looked at him.
Dad noticed.
His mouth tightened.
“I mean it,” he told the person on the phone.
“Everything clean.”
He ended the call.
David spread his hands.
“That’s your big move?”
Dad slipped the phone into his jacket.
“My big move is listening to my daughter.”
Two hospital security officers appeared at the door with another nurse behind them.
The older officer took in the room quickly.
“Sir, we need you to come with us.”
David looked genuinely offended.
“This is my son’s room.”
“No,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
My voice shook, so I tried again.
“This is my room.”
David stared at me for several seconds.
Something shifted in his face.
Not remorse.
Calculation.
“You’re going to regret doing this.”
The older security officer stepped between us.
“Sir.”
David backed toward the door.
He pointed at Dad.
“And you, whatever you think you are, stay the hell out of my marriage.”
My father bent and picked up the teddy bear from the counter.
“Gladly.”
David hesitated, apparently waiting for something more dramatic.
Dad gave him nothing.
That seemed to bother him most.
Security escorted David into the hallway.
His voice continued for several seconds, fading toward the elevators.
The nurse shut the door.
Silence rushed in behind it.
My whole body began shaking.
I hated that.
I had spent twelve hours getting our son into the world without screaming at anybody except one unfortunate anesthesiologist, and now my teeth were chattering because David had left the room.
Dad approached the bed slowly.
“May I?”
I looked at the teddy bear.
One ear was crooked.
“You bought that?”
“The woman at the gift shop said blue was traditional.”
“You hate traditional.”
“She was persuasive.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
It hurt my abdomen.
Then the laugh broke apart, and I covered my mouth.
Dad put the bear beside my pillow.
He did not touch me.
That restraint undid me more thoroughly than a hug would have.
“I didn’t cheat,” I said.
“I know.”
“You can’t know.”
“I know you.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
He pulled the visitor chair closer and sat.
“Then we’ll get the test.”
I stared at him.
“You think I should?”
“I think David will use the question as a weapon until the question is dead.”
My son made a tiny snuffling noise.
Dad leaned forward.
“Does he have a name?”
I looked down.
David and I had spent six months arguing over names.
He wanted David Junior.
I had refused.
Eventually we had settled on Benjamin, mostly because neither of us disliked it enough to keep fighting.
“Benjamin.”
Dad smiled.
“Ben.”
“Benjamin.”
“Right.”
“Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You shortened it with your face.”
For another few seconds, I almost felt normal.
Then my phone vibrated on the bedside table.
Once.
Twice.
Five times.
I reached for it.
Dad caught my wrist gently.
“You don’t have to look.”
“Yes, I do.”
The first message was from David.
The second was from his mother.
The next three were from Emma.
Mom, why is Dad mad?
Mom, Grandma is crying.
Mom, are you coming home?
My stomach dropped.
I called Emma immediately.
She answered on the first ring.
“Mom?”
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Dad said the baby isn’t ours.”
I closed my eyes.
Across from me, my father became absolutely still.
“Listen to me, Emma.”
“Did you do something bad?”
There it was.
Not accusation exactly.
Fear looking for somewhere to land.
“No.”
My throat tightened.
“No, honey, I didn’t.”
“Then why did Dad say we might not live with you anymore?”
Dad reached for the encrypted phone.
I put up one finger.
Not yet.
This call was mine.
“Emma, I need you to listen to me and not try to fix anything for the grown-ups tonight.”
There was a muffled sound on the other end, then my daughter whispered, “Grandma told me to hang up.”
“Don’t argue with her.”
“But she keeps saying you hurt Dad.”
My father’s fingers tightened around the black phone in his lap.
I kept my eyes on Benjamin’s tiny ear because looking at Dad would have made it harder to keep my voice steady.
“Your dad and I had a very bad argument.”
“Did you cheat?”
The word sounded wrong in a nine-year-old’s mouth.
My stomach cramped so sharply that I pressed my free hand against the sheet.
“No.”
Emma breathed into the phone.
Behind her, I could hear Grace crying and someone opening a cabinet.
Then David’s mother, Carol, spoke from farther away.
“Emma, give me that phone.”
“I’m talking to Mom.”
“Now.”
“Sweetheart,” I said quickly, “put me on speaker.”
There was a rustle.
Carol’s voice came closer.
“Claire, you need to stop confusing them.”
“I’m not confusing anyone.”
“David is beside himself.”
“He hit me.”
Silence.
Not surprise.
Not disbelief.
Just silence.
That silence told me more than an argument would have.
“Carol?”
“I wasn’t there.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“You know how emotional he gets.”
May you like
Dad stood up.
I shook my head at him before he could move.
