“Good night, Abi,” I say.

“Good night, Ms. Lowan.”

I know what Dr. Black would say about what I saw, but my father’s words ring back to me.Energies linger, they echo. The past, the future, all dwell side by side. It’s like a double exposure. You see what was there, what might come, overlaying the present.

My head starts to ache as I walk unsteadily back to the bathroom. Chad’s heavy breathing in the bedroom is undisturbed by ghosts in the hallway, our watchful doorman checking in unsolicited. I’m going to disable that intercom, or lodge a complaint about the invasion of privacy.

But all of these thoughts quickly dissipate as I pick up the pregnancy test lying on the marble vanity top. I turn on the light and stare, a gasp of surprise escaping my lips. Disbelief. Then a rush of joy so intense that it banishes all darkness.

Two blue lines.

I’m pregnant.

twenty

“Let’s not tell anyone for a little while.”

“Let’s telleveryone,” Chad shouts, as antsy and joyful as a kid on Christmas morning. “We’ll go up on the roof and just start yelling.”

I put a gentle hand on his arm. I love his excitement. But this—can it just be ours for a little while? It feels tentative, delicate. So much could go wrong. “I want to take another test, see the doctor.”

He takes my hand and gives an assenting nod. “And you should do that. But let’s telleveryone. I can’t keep this secret, Rosie.”

“Most people wait. Anything can happen.”

“Since when are wemost people? Let’s tell Charles and Ella at least.”

They wouldn’t be my first call—Max maybe. More than anything I want to call my mother. Or Sarah. And not because I need their support.See,I want to tell them,good things are happening for me.

A deep calm has come over me since I took the test last night, a knowing that this is it. We have started our family. We have a beautiful new apartment. Chad just landed a dream role. Our child is growing inside me. All will be well.

I woke Chad up right away, and we’ve been up talking ever since. Now the sun is rising and we sit at the table Ivan gave us—Chad drinking coffee, me with an herbal tea. It’s going to be hard to give up coffee, the magical elixir of life. But my body belongs to the life growing inside me for a while, so I’ll suffer through.

“Okay,” he says finally. “You’re right. We’ll wait. But it’s going to nearly kill me.”

We watch the sunrise paint the east side of the Chrysler Building a brilliant pink.

“I am the happiest man alive,” says Chad.

We don’t need to talk about the timing, how he just got his first big role and what that will mean for us. My book. It doesn’t matter. We’ll make it all work and that’s it.

“Do we know a doctor?” asks Chad.

“Hilary has a good one,” I say. My friend, the one who stood me up the night I met Chad, has just had twins. She raved about her doctor, a young woman on the Upper West Side.

Where I grew up, babies were most often delivered by midwives. My mother was one of them, often called away in the middle of the night to usher a little soul into the world.Pregnancy is not a medical event, she liked to say.Our bodies were designed to do this.

Sure, unless something goes wrong.

“I think Charles and Ella know someone, too.” He traces the ring of his cup. “In fact, I know they do.”

The words sink in.

“Did you tell them we were trying for a baby?”

He looks at me sheepishly, and I try to quash my annoyance when I see that he has.

“I might have mentioned it,” he says.