Page 104 of Books and Hookups

But I wanted to prove it anyway.

I reached for the controls on the bed and raised the head so I could sit up, then I scooted to the edge and dropped my feet over the side. A pungent odor hit my nostrils.

Thanks, pregnancy hormones.

“Why thefuckdoes it smell like a bar in here?”

38

Easiest Thing I’ve Ever Done

Truth Serum

Pour a shot of vodka, a shot of triple sec, a shot of Midori, a shot of blue curaçao into a highball glass with ice. Add a dash of absinthe. Top up the glass with lemonade and stir.

DANNY

“Why thefuckdoes it smell like a bar in here?”

I cracked open a bleary eye. Lucie was sitting up on the bed, her bare legs dangling over the side. It had to be early morning because although it was still dark outside the window, I could hear a jay calling from the tree on the other side of the glass. When she set her toes on the floor, I jumped to my feet.

“What are you doing?” I asked, putting out a hand to steady her but stopping short of touching her. “The nurse said to call before you get up.”

“I can make it to the bathroom by myself. And it’s you who smells like beer.” She wrinkled her nose.

I supported her as she shuffled toward the tiny bathroom. “I dropped one on myself, remember?”

“You haven’t been home?” she glanced up at me.

“I didn’t want to leave you here alone.”

She continued her slow steps. “I feel like I got hit by a car.”

“You pushed a seven-pound, five-ounce human out of your body. That’s a pretty traumatic experience.”

She paused at the doorway. “You were traumatized?”

“No, no. Of course not. I meant, it had to be hard on your body. I was glad to be here. Thank you for including me.”

She stared down at the linoleum. “Ugh!” She wiped under her eyes. “These hormones are killing me.” She closed the door.

I waited outside while she used the bathroom, listening for any sounds of distress. She groaned and cursed but didn’t call for help. After a while, she emerged, smelling like toothpaste. I offered her my arm, and she took it as she scuffed back to the bed.

“Good morning.” A new nurse wheeled in the bassinet with our baby in it. The tiny thing squeezed her eyes shut, making a breathless, huffing cry. “Someone’s hungry. Want to try feeding her?”

“Okay,” Lucie said warily, easing herself back into the bed. The top of it was already raised, and she leaned back and untied the top of the gown.

“Want me to wait outside?” I asked.

“You don’t have to. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

She was wrong. I remembered my mother breastfeeding the twins, and Giuliana before that, but watching Lucie feed our child was like nothing I’d ever seen. She approached it with the same intensity I’d seen her use when working on her book. Lucie strived to be the best at everything, including breastfeeding. After some work with the nurse positioning the baby and after a few frustrated curses, Lucie stilled.

“You’ve got it.” The nurse made some notes on a tablet. “I’ll wait until you’re done to check your vitals.”

“That’s…weird,” Lucie said, looking down at our daughter, who’d finally quieted.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

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