Page 106 of Books and Hookups

“Looking forward to it.” He winked.

Knowing none of my family would leave the room voluntarily, I pulled him and Giuliana away from the bed. “Give Lucie some space. You can ogle the baby later.”

“She’s asleep,” Lucie said. “Mrs. Carbone, would you like to hold her?”

Faster than I’d have thought possible, the baby was in my mother’s arms. She gazed down at her. “She has Lucie’s nose and mouth. We’ll have to wait for her to wake up to see her eyes.”

“They both have magnificent hair,” Elena said. She peeled back the baby’s pink cap. “And so does she. What’s her name?”

Cold prickles erupted in my belly. “I…I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. Lucie, do you know what you want to call her?”

Her eyebrows scrunched together. “No. But we’ll figure it out.”

My lips curled up in a tentative smile. I liked thatwe.

“Can you come here?” Lucie asked.

I shuffled past Giuliana and Tony to get to her side. She held out her hand, and I stared at it, shocked, for a moment. Then I took it.

“Danny, I’ve made a lot of mistakes over the past nine months.”

My chest felt tight. We were here because of one of those mistakes. Was she regretting it all? “I’m sor?—”

“Let me finish. Please. What I’m trying to say is that I’m going to keep making mistakes. And goddammit, I’m going to hate it every time I do. However. I’m learning to accept that I’m never going to be the world’s best mother. I can only try to be the best mother I can be. The bestpersonI can be.”

“You’re already a great person,” I said.

She snorted. “Even at forty years old, I’m a work in progress. But I…I love that you’re so confident in me. That you accept me for who I am. That you’re fuckingherefor me. I?—”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t expect a party.” Lucie’s friend Savannah squeezed in with a gigantic bouquet of sunflowers. Carly and Tessa followed. They beelined to Lucie and hugged her. When they jostled me out of the way, I lost contact with Lucie’s hand.

It was okay. She’d want her friends. I took the vase of flowers from Savannah and set them on the windowsill. I wished I’d thought to get her flowers. I could slip out and run downstairs to the hospital gift shop. No one would even notice I was gone in all the noise. I edged behind Savannah and Giuliana, but the nurse barred my way.

“More people?” she thundered. “Here. At least wear these.” She held out a fistful of surgical masks.

I took them from her. “Sorry, we’ve got a lot of family. I’ll step out for a minute.”

“No. Stop.” Lucie’s voice rang out clear over the others. “Danny, come here. I’m not done. Tessa, scoot over and let him through.”

Not done? Shit, what was she going to say? My feet didn’t want to move, but my siblings’ hands pushed me to her bedside. Someone snatched the masks from me. Smirking, Tessa grabbed my shoulders and shoved me to sit on the bed beside Lucie.

“Sorry, I—” I tried to stand, but Lucie grabbed my hand and pinned me in place. This close, I could see the shadows under her eyes. She needed rest, not a million people squeezed into her tiny hospital room. When she kicked me out, I’d take my family with me and make them wait until the baby was home from the hospital to visit.

Her hand was cold and a little dry, so I rubbed warmth into it.

“Danny.” She squeezed my hand. “What I’m trying to say is?—”

“Lucie,” a voice boomed. “Who are all these people?”

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, “Fucking wonderful.” Then louder, “Hi, Dad. Hi, Mom. These are my friends. And family.”

Despite the Jack and Coke we’d shared last night, Marvin’s—Dr. Knox’s—presence prickled at my back. I could feel his judgment and indignation that Lucie had claimed my undereducated, lower-class family for her child.

But she carried on. “Carrie’s got the baby. You can hold her in a minute. Put on a mask first. I have something I need to say to Danny.”

Her brown eyes blazed. “Danny, what I’ve been trying to say is that I appreciate you. All the things you do for me. How you keep coming back, no matter how hard I try to push you away. That you still like me even though I’m far from perfect.”

“No one’s perfect,” I said, “but you’re pretty close.”

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