Wet

“Hey, Paul,” she whispers with a sleepy voice.

I can tell she’s going to fall asleep in my arms again and I want her to. “Yeah?”

“You know all that stuff you were saying about your favorite photograph of the bridges?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“How you said it’s like you don’t know where you’re going to end up or how you got there, but that it’s a steady bridge and you trust that it’s going to be okay on the other side?”

I nod. “I remember. Why?”

She sighs and rests her open palm on my chest.

“You’re my bridge.”

Chapter Fourteen

TIGHT SQUEEZE

I press the phone tighter against my ear. Elle sounds tired and her voice is unusually quiet as she cancels joining me for di

“Are you sure you can’t come? Ma’s making beef stew because you said you liked it so much last time you were over.”

She lets out a frustrated sigh. “I wish I could come, really I do, but I have hours of work left tonight.”

“But it’s already five. This isn’t good for you.” I can’t help pressuring her—I really don’t like that she’s working so much. She’s been looking exhausted way too often lately.

“I know, but if I don’t get this done tonight, tomorrow’s event could be a disaster.”

“Elle . . .”

“I know—the baby. I’m trying to do all the right things but if I don’t stay on top of my jobs I won’t be able to take care of us. At least the day-after-tomorrow I can take the day off and I plan to sleep all day.”

“And eat full meals.”

“Yeah, that too.”

There’s a long, silent pause.

“You still there?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“What is it?”

“Stephan called me.”

For a second I can’t find my voice but then I clench my fists and the rage starts burning through me. “What’d he want?”

“I didn’t talk to him. He left a message saying he wants to meet, and he didn’t sound very friendly.”

“Meet? What the fuck? He’s been silent for all these weeks and now the fucker wants to meet?”

“I know,” she says in a wavering voice. “What am I going to do?”

Let me beat the living crap out of him. I sure as hell hope she didn’t already agree to see him.

“What do you want to do?” I ask.

“I don’t want to talk to him, but what if he doesn’t take no for an answer?”

“He can’t force you. I won’t let him anywhere near you.”

“Maybe if I just don’t reply he’ll fuck off.”

“Yeah, that might work,” I say, even though in my gut I don’t believe that. What if the asshole is having second thoughts about the baby?

“I could tell him that the baby isn’t his after all so he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.”

The tone of her voice is unconvincing. Knowing how honest Elle is, I doubt she could follow through with this strategy.

“Could you really do that?”

There’s a long pause. “No. What should I do?”

“Look, you need to just deal with your work tonight. Try to push it out of your mind. You don’t have to reply immediately. Who knows? Maybe he won’t call again.”

“Okay.” Her voice is soft and she sounds vulnerable. It makes me want to protect her.

“I’m going to check on you later. I want you home by nine. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

Later at di

I push my stew around with my spoon. “Elle’s baby’s dad called her today and wants to meet.”

I glance up in time to see Ma and Dad share a concerned look.

“This is the scoundrel who denied it was his baby?” Dad asked with a scowl.

I nod.

“Does she know what he wants yet?” Ma asks.

I shake my head.

The mood at the table shifts like a black veil just settled over us. It even feels like the overhead lights have dimmed.

“Does Elle have a lawyer?” Patrick asks.

“Well I know she must have a divorce lawyer. If they can’t help her I’m sure they would have a referral,” I say.

“What if you adopted the baby?” Trish asks.

To my surprise no one argues with her.

“Adopt the baby? But we aren’t even married.”

She shrugs. “A quick trip to Vegas could solve that.”

What has happened to my straight-laced, traditional family? I feel like I accidently sat down at another family’s di

Dad holds up his hand. “We’re jumping the gun here. First of all, you can’t just adopt another man’s baby. Elle needs to see what the man wants and decide how she feels about it.”

Ma nods in agreement despite looking miserable about it. I know they were both afraid this would happen.

“Are you sure it’s his? Is it possible it’s yours?” my sister asks. I bet that knowing my history she assumes we slept together early on.

I shake my head and her expression softens.

I’m really moved that my family likes Elle enough to be pulling for her. They get on my nerves a lot, but right now I’m grateful they see the good in Elle that inspires them to want the best for her.

After di

We don’t talk for a while, just sit, comforted by the melody of familiar sounds. I hear Ma washing dishes in the kitchen, old-lady Margaret’s loud TV playing

Jeopardy next door and the faint whiz of traffic from the nearby freeway.

Dad finally looks over at me. “How are you holding up, son?”

I lean forward and twist my hands together. “I was doing okay, but now I’m not so sure.”

He nods. “What are you most worried about?”

“This is hard to admit, because it’s stupid of me . . . but I’ve been getting attached not just to Elle but to her baby, too—really attached. And now if the dad is involved, I may be forced out of the picture and I can’t stand the idea of that.”

“That’s not stupid, Paul. It makes perfect sense to me.”

“It does?”

“When you love a woman like you love Elle, you care more about them and their needs than your own. You want to share all the parts of your lives.”

He knows I love her. I must wear it on my sleeve.

“It’s that obvious?” I ask quietly.

“It is to me. I’ve never seen you like this.” He turns his gaze to the evening sky. “It’s what I’d always hoped for you . . . finding a good woman like Elle. I just wish it wasn’t such a complicated situation.”

“Me, too.” I take a deep breath relieved to be honest about how I feel.

We sit in silence another minute before I turn to him.

“So you really like Elle, even despite all this stuff you know . . . being divorced, then this pregnancy?”

“I do like her. I always have. I think she just needs the right man to love her.”

He looks up at me intently and doesn’t say another word, but I feel like I can read his thoughts. It reminds me of the look he’d give me when I was young before an important race. That look gives me the confidence to not just give up.

Elle must have listened to my concern on our earlier phone call because she calls me at nine to assure me that she’s home. She sounds so damn tired but I do my best to cheer her up.

I check in with her late the next morning. We have a broken-up conversation because of interruptions from the convention director over issues with the room set-up. Despite that she’s able to get enough conversation in to let me know that Stephan called her again that morning and she didn’t answer. I want to rage but I keep my mouth shut because I don’t want to upset her more. She already sounds really stressed out.