Page 78 of First Comes Forever

“You two are struggling to get pregnant?” Mr. Montgomery asks.

The award for most resilient and go-with-the-flow human on the planet definitely goes to Mr. Montgomery. About an hour ago, I watched silently as Adam calmly explained to his father that most of his memories are jumbled and he’s stuck about eight years in the past. I believe Adam’s mom already alluded to the seriousness of his condition, but nothing prepared Mr. Montgomery for the news that his son is no longer married, his wife was carrying another man’s baby, and that he’s been single since.

Until me, that is.

Adam gleefully introduced me as his girlfriend, effectively taking our summer fling and making it undeniably official. Now I really am going to have to tell my friends. Not right now, by any means. Not when my best friend just smashed Adam’s best friend’s heart to smithereens. We need to let that settle before we parade our happiness anywhere.

“Amani, do you want to explain, or should I?” Adam asks, then glances at his mom. “Or we don’t have to talk about—”

“Oh, it’s fine,” I cut in, calming his worried expression. He looks nervous, like he just crossed a line he wasn’t supposed to. “I was told about six months ago my fertility window was closing, likely because of POI.”

“POI?” Holly asks.

“Premature ovarian insufficiency. Follicles produce the eggs, and if they are not working or their numbers are diminishing, it makes conception very difficult,” Mr. Montgomery chimes in before scouring everyone’s surprised faces. “What?” he asks. “Did everyone forget I went to medical school and practiced medicine for nearly thirty years? I have a working knowledge of a woman’s reproductive system.”

“Dad. Please don’t say reproductive system—or follicles, for that matter—in front of my girlfriend.”

Holly and I both laugh. “The point is, I figured if I was going to have a baby, it was now or never. I had already made plans before I met Adam, which is why, in this matter, he’s supporting me as a friend.”

“It’s not your baby?” Mr. Montgomery asks.

“There is no baby,” Adam explains. He quickly puts his fingers on my bare knee and traces soothing circles. “Yet,” he adds. “But I’m right here for whatever she needs.”

“That’s wonderful of you, Adam,” Holly says, making Adam flinch.

He nods but doesn’t respond.

Adam’s been angry with his mother for over twenty years. It’s not like all that dissipates because he agreed to have a meal with her. Admittedly, it was awkward when we first walked in and he hugged his dad but only shook his mother’s hand. But he’s trying. That’s the important part. He took a big first step today, and we got a delicious lunch out of it.

I know I’m supposed to be skeptical of this woman and maybe even a little bitter on Adam’s behalf, but Holly is lovely. She’s sweet, warm, soft-spoken, and beautiful. Her shoulder-length hair is exactly Adam’s shade of brunette. They have the same big, chocolate-colored eyes, and matching dimples.

“Holly, would you like to hunt down a cup of coffee with me?” I ask, scooting my chair out.

“Babe, I thought Dr. Michel didn’t want you having caffeine right now?”

I inhale and roll my eyes at the IVF police. “Adam, I’m not actually getting coffee. I’m subtly excusing myself so you and your dad can have a moment alone to talk candidly about me and our whole weird situation.”

“Yeah, that’s real subtle,” Adam grumbles as he rubs the back of his neck. Mr. Montgomery lets out a deep belly laugh.

Leaning down, I kiss his cheek. “I know. I’m smooth like that.”

Holly rises as well, then clears our paper plates with scant remnants of peanut butter pie. “I learned a few visits ago that the espresso machine on the fourth floor has better coffee than the cafeteria. I believe that machine has a decaf option.”

“So you’ve been here a few times?” Adam asks, finally addressing his mom directly. The tension in the room grows thick and I clutch my thumbs inside my fists. It was such a pleasant lunch. I silently plead with Adam not to hurt his mom’s feelings.

“Yes. More lately,” she answers.

He looks her in the eye, and my heart pounds so hard, it’s nearly painful.

Please, please be civil.

“I can tell,” Adam says. “Dad looks like he’s finally put on a little weight. Thank you for cooking for him, Mom.”

Holly inhales sharply, a squeak slipping through. She covers her mouth as her eyes fill with tears. “It’s my pleasure,” she huffs out, then hurries out of the room. Adam shrugs at me and I shrug back before following Holly. I find her in the hallway near hysterics and I don’t know what to do except wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She hugs me back, rubbing the sides of my arms, then steps away. She’s mopping up her tears with the back of her hands. “I’m sorry, silly me with the theatrics.”

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