Page 125 of First Comes Forever

“Nothing as of late, but last month it was restaurant ranch dressing.” I cackle, remembering the time Amani asked me to swing by Wingstop and pick up her favorite ranch. She made herself a bowl of white rice and poured the ranch dressing on top. After wolfing it down, she called it gourmet.

Lately, however, she’s trying to only eat organic. She’s read one too many articles about pregnancy nutrition affecting the baby’s brain growth.

“Your mom craved nacho cheese with you. The slimy stuff that congeals when it’s at room temperature.” He widens his eyes and shakes his head. “Every day for months. Tortilla chips, nacho cheese, and pickled jalapeno peppers. Yet she wondered why her heartburn was so bad.”

Laughing lightly, I say, “Luckily, no heartburn for us, yet. We still have two months to go, though.”

“Ah,” Dad says, setting the phone down, propping it up on something I can’t see. Now his face is at an angle. “When is Amani due?”

I choke on my small gasp. “What?” I ask in shock.

“Amani,” Dad repeats. “When’s her due date?”

There’s no way. There’s no fucking way. “Who told you about Amani?”

Dad peers at me through the phone like he’s worried about my sanity. “You did. Adam, what’s wrong with you? Amani is your wife. She’s pregnant with your baby.”

IVF worked on the first round when we used donor eggs. We briefly talked about surrogacy, but in the end, Amani wanted to carry our child.

“I did?I told you? So none of the staff, not Mom or Alex mentioned Amani to you this morning?”

Dad shakes his head. His eyes lift as he turns his lips down, looking confused and sad. “Did I upset you?”

“No,” I emphasize. “No, not at all. Dad, this is huge. Can you just do me a favor and describe Amani to me?”

Right now, I wonder if Dad is getting the names mixed up. I’ve told him so many times about Amani, but it’s usually after I have to explain how Liv and I ended. I still have to catch him up on his good days, and it’s always heartbreaking. But this… This is a fresh memory he formed on his own. A contradiction to everything the doctors have been telling us is possible.

“She’s mid-height, maybe five-foot-five. Red hair. Green eyes… Light freckles.”

Running my free hand over my face, I exhale a scant breath. “Yeah, Dad. That’s right. That’s Amani. You remembered.”

He chuckles. “Why would I forget my daughter-in-law?”

I could ask what he remembers about Liv, or what age he thinks I am, but I don’t want to ruin this moment. It’s not perfect, and I’m sure his memories are hazy, but it’s a little step forward.

No, fuck it.

A big step. No, a huge step. I’m going to allow myself to hope.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, Son?”

“If you ever feel up to traveling, Amani and I have a big condo in downtown Denver. There’s plenty of room for you and Mom to visit when the baby gets here. My door is always open for you.”

“Oh, Son. Really? I’d love that. Your mom would love that.”

“Okay, sounds good. Well, why don’t you get your day started, and I’m going to go check on my wife. We can call you together this afternoon.”

At first, Dad nods, then he scrunches his face in confusion. “Wait, I thought you had a flight to catch?”

“You know what? I’m suddenly unmotivated to work. I just want to be with my family right now.”

Dad gives me a knowing smile. “Always a good call, Son.”

* * *

amani

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