Chương 4
Rachel went upstairs.
She lifted him from the crib and settled into the rocking chair.
He smelled faintly of baby shampoo and mashed banana.
His warm forehead pressed beneath her chin.
“You had a terrible birthday,” she whispered.
Mason yawned.
Rachel stared into the dark room.
She did not tell him it would be okay.
At three in the morning, she canceled Eleanor’s appointment through the confirmation link Eleanor had forwarded the previous night.
At three seventeen, she opened Evan’s contact.
She did not call.
At three eighteen, she put the phone facedown.
At three twenty-six, Daniel texted.
Is he asleep?
Rachel looked at Mason.
Yes.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Nothing arrived.
The next morning Daniel came home at seven forty with coffee.
Rachel was sitting at the kitchen table wearing the same dark pants from the party and one of Daniel’s old college sweatshirts.
He put a cup in front of her.
“Oat milk.”
“Thanks.”
Neither mentioned that he remembered.
He looked toward the ceiling.
“Mason?”
“Still asleep.”
Daniel sat across from her.
His eyes were red.
Rachel wrapped both hands around the coffee.
“I canceled the test.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to schedule another one.”
His gaze sharpened.
“With you.”
He looked at her for a long moment.
“Okay.”
“I don’t want your mother involved.”
“Neither do I.”
Rachel swallowed.
“And I’m going to tell Evan.”
Daniel’s fingers tightened around his cup.
“Today?”
“I think I should.”
He looked toward the window.
A lawn service had started somewhere down the street. The dull mechanical hum passed and returned.
“What do you want from him?”
“I don’t know.”
“That seems to be doing a lot of work around here.”
Rachel nodded.
“You’re right.”
Daniel’s expression tightened.
“I don’t need you to agree with everything I say because you feel guilty.”
“I’m not.”
“You just agreed.”
She almost smiled.
He almost did too.
Neither managed it.
Rachel stared at the coffee lid.
“I want him to know there’s a possibility. I want him to decide whether he wants to be tested. I want you tested too. Properly. No tricks.”
Daniel leaned back.
“And if he’s Mason’s biological father?”
The question stayed between them.
Rachel had avoided giving it language for almost two years.
“I don’t know what happens.”
Daniel looked at her.
“That one I believe.”
Mason woke at eight twelve.
Daniel went upstairs before Rachel could stand.
She remained at the kitchen table listening to his footsteps cross the ceiling.
Then came Mason’s morning cry, followed by silence.
A minute later Rachel heard Daniel talking softly through the baby monitor.
“Buddy. Hey. Rough night?”
Mason babbled.
Daniel laughed once.
Rachel covered her face.
She cried then.
Not loudly.
Not for long.
When Daniel came downstairs carrying Mason in his cream-and-pale-blue birthday romper from the previous afternoon, his expression was composed again.
Mason saw Rachel and leaned toward her.
She took him.
Daniel watched.
Rachel wiped her face with her sleeve.
“I’ll change him.”
“I can do it.”
“I know.”
She handed Mason back.
That became the shape of the next several days: ordinary sentences with extraordinary things underneath them.
Did you buy wipes?
I moved your charger.
He ate half the yogurt.
The pediatrician called.
Your mom texted.
That last one made Daniel stop.
“What did she say?”
Rachel handed him her phone.
Eleanor’s message was short.
I regret that the party became unpleasant. I do not regret insisting on the truth. When Daniel is ready to discuss this rationally, he knows where to find me.
Daniel read it twice.
Then he gave the phone back.
“Don’t answer.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
He nodded.
Ten minutes later Rachel saw him typing in the hallway.
She did not ask.
At lunch, Linda called.
Rachel almost ignored it.
Then she answered.
Linda said, “I deserve that.”
Rachel leaned against the pantry door.
“What exactly did you tell her?”
A pause.
“That there had been someone else.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Why?”
“Because Eleanor asked why you always looked terrified when anyone joked that Mason had Daniel’s father’s eyes.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“I don’t always look terrified.”
“I know.”
“Apparently I do.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Rachel looked through the kitchen window.
A delivery truck stopped across the street.
Linda sighed.
“I was irritated with her. She kept saying you were secretive and ungrateful. I told her she didn’t know everything about your marriage.”
“And then?”
“She asked what that meant.”
“And you told her.”
“Not immediately.”
Rachel laughed without humor.
“Good.”
“Rachel.”
“I trusted you.”
“I know.”
“No. You knew one thing about me nobody else knew because I called you from a grocery store parking lot when I was nine weeks pregnant and thought I was going to throw up from fear.”
Linda said nothing.
Rachel’s voice hardened.
“You told me I had to tell Daniel. You were right. I hated you for being right. But I still trusted you.”
“I’m sorry.”
Rachel stared at a magnetic alphabet letter stuck to the refrigerator.
A red M.
Mason had no idea what it meant.
“How did she get me to sign?” Linda asked.
Rachel hesitated.
“She came over Friday night after Daniel went to pick up his dad’s old tools from storage.”
“Eleanor came there?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“That she knew.”
Linda exhaled slowly.
Rachel continued.
“She had already found a company. She had printed the paperwork. She said if I cooperated, she would wait until the results before saying anything to Daniel.”
“And if you didn’t?”
Rachel looked toward the living room where Mason was stacking cups.
“She said she would tell him at the party.”
Linda went quiet.
“She promised?”
“Yes.”
“And then she told him anyway.”
“Not exactly.”
Rachel thought of the plate hitting the floor.
“She made sure I would.”
That afternoon Rachel called Evan.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“Rachel?”
His voice had barely changed.
That disturbed her.
“Hi.”
“Well. Hi.”
She heard traffic behind him.
May you like
“It’s been a while.”
“I know.”
