flooded into the coach house, she sat on the floor and watched Paul as he struggled to assemble a white Leirvik bedframe.
“Jesus fuck! Goddamn it!” he yelled as he tried to interpret the pictograms.
Angie watched him for a while and then she lay down on the floor, but her view of the ceiling only encouraged her nostalgia. When she and her sisters were teenagers, making curfew had been extremely important to their father. Dates were to be concluded, promptly, at 11:00 p.m. on the front steps. Besnard was extremely inflexible on this, which was why, twenty to forty minutes before eleven o’clock, depending on the skills of whom they were dating, they’d sneak into the coach house. This way, no matter how hot and heavy things got they’d still be home on time—the coach house’s proximity to the front door turned it into a sort of teenage love motel. It was where each of the three Weird daughters had lost her virginity.
“Jesus! What the fuck do they … Christ! It makes no sense! Wait. Damn it!” Paul said. Angie watched him takeoff his shirt. His back was sweaty. His profanities were ludicrously similar to the ones Zach had uttered to her during foreplay. She waited until he’d finished assembling the bed. Then she stood and ran across the room as quickly as she could. Colliding, they fell backwards. The bed sagged but it held.
“I love you,” Angie said. She started unbuttoning things. “What about the baby?”
“She loves you too. I think you’ll have to take me from behind.”
“I can do that.”
Afterwards they lay on their backs, smiling, relaxed and believing in life. “Listen, I gotta tell you something,” Paul said. “I got a call last week. From the Hendersons?”
“No. Don’t do this.”
“So you did contact them?”
“We’re having such a beautiful moment.”
“They said you were talking to them about adoption? Is that right?”
“Let’s just have this. Let’s just be in the moment. This moment. Please?”
“They seemed to believe that you were pretty keen about it. In fact they were surprised to hear that I didn’t know,” Paul said. He raised his eyebrows. She knew that he was waiting, patiently but not without a limit, for her to explain herself.
“Listen. I had coffee with them. That’s it. That’s all. I didn’t agree to anything. If they thought I had, well that’s just them being overeager.”
“Wait. So without me, you met with … this is … that is too far!”
“Paul, it’s just such a big commitment for me. For us! Are you really ready?”
“Yes! Yes I am! I’m so ready for this. Aren’t you?”
Angie did not have an answer to this. At least not one she wanted to speak aloud. Paul believed her reluctance to commit was due to a lack of love. But the opposite was true. The amount of love she felt for both him and their unborn daughter terrified her. She feared that raising this child, with him, would generate so much love that it would simply sweep her away. Just like her mom had been swept away.
Angie closed her eyes. When she opened them again Paul was still staring at her. His teeth remained set. He turned his head slightly to the left and he kept on looking at her. This is why Angie was filled with relief when the door burst open and her siblings rushed in.
“He’s rounding third!”
“Don’t be stupid. He’s obviously already earned a run!”
“Eight and half months ago …”
“Nice girth.”
“We’re gonna talk about this later,” Paul said. Ignoring them he continued to stare at Angie.
“But really Paul, an anchor tattoo? Isn’t that a little too clichéd? Even as irony?”
“Thank God we weren’t twenty minutes earlier.”
“More like ten.”
“Five!”
“Angie, I’m serious. We’re gonna talk about this later.”
“I’ve always wondered if keeping the cap is worth the maintenance.”
“Here,” Abba said. She tossed the white cotton sheet that they hadn’t had a chance to use. Paul had just
“Jesus fuck! Goddamn it!” he yelled as he tried to interpret the pictograms.
Angie watched him for a while and then she lay down on the floor, but her view of the ceiling only encouraged her nostalgia. When she and her sisters were teenagers, making curfew had been extremely important to their father. Dates were to be concluded, promptly, at 11:00 p.m. on the front steps. Besnard was extremely inflexible on this, which was why, twenty to forty minutes before eleven o’clock, depending on the skills of whom they were dating, they’d sneak into the coach house. This way, no matter how hot and heavy things got they’d still be home on time—the coach house’s proximity to the front door turned it into a sort of teenage love motel. It was where each of the three Weird daughters had lost her virginity.
“Jesus! What the fuck do they … Christ! It makes no sense! Wait. Damn it!” Paul said. Angie watched him takeoff his shirt. His back was sweaty. His profanities were ludicrously similar to the ones Zach had uttered to her during foreplay. She waited until he’d finished assembling the bed. Then she stood and ran across the room as quickly as she could. Colliding, they fell backwards. The bed sagged but it held.
“I love you,” Angie said. She started unbuttoning things. “What about the baby?”
“She loves you too. I think you’ll have to take me from behind.”
“I can do that.”
Afterwards they lay on their backs, smiling, relaxed and believing in life. “Listen, I gotta tell you something,” Paul said. “I got a call last week. From the Hendersons?”
“No. Don’t do this.”
“So you did contact them?”
“We’re having such a beautiful moment.”
“They said you were talking to them about adoption? Is that right?”
“Let’s just have this. Let’s just be in the moment. This moment. Please?”
“They seemed to believe that you were pretty keen about it. In fact they were surprised to hear that I didn’t know,” Paul said. He raised his eyebrows. She knew that he was waiting, patiently but not without a limit, for her to explain herself.
“Listen. I had coffee with them. That’s it. That’s all. I didn’t agree to anything. If they thought I had, well that’s just them being overeager.”
“Wait. So without me, you met with … this is … that is too far!”
“Paul, it’s just such a big commitment for me. For us! Are you really ready?”
“Yes! Yes I am! I’m so ready for this. Aren’t you?”
Angie did not have an answer to this. At least not one she wanted to speak aloud. Paul believed her reluctance to commit was due to a lack of love. But the opposite was true. The amount of love she felt for both him and their unborn daughter terrified her. She feared that raising this child, with him, would generate so much love that it would simply sweep her away. Just like her mom had been swept away.
Angie closed her eyes. When she opened them again Paul was still staring at her. His teeth remained set. He turned his head slightly to the left and he kept on looking at her. This is why Angie was filled with relief when the door burst open and her siblings rushed in.
“He’s rounding third!”
“Don’t be stupid. He’s obviously already earned a run!”
“Eight and half months ago …”
“Nice girth.”
“We’re gonna talk about this later,” Paul said. Ignoring them he continued to stare at Angie.
“But really Paul, an anchor tattoo? Isn’t that a little too clichéd? Even as irony?”
“Thank God we weren’t twenty minutes earlier.”
“More like ten.”
“Five!”
“Angie, I’m serious. We’re gonna talk about this later.”
“I’ve always wondered if keeping the cap is worth the maintenance.”
“Here,” Abba said. She tossed the white cotton sheet that they hadn’t had a chance to use. Paul had just
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