Page 98 of Books and Hookups

She chuckled. “He can’t find matching socks without me, much less win a Pulitzer.”

Damn, I liked her. I’d been so nervous meeting Lucie’s parents at the party that I hadn’t been able to see how alike they were. I’d been too focused on my hurt feelings. But now I realized that some of what I loved about Lucie—her humor, her intelligence, her idealism—came from her parents.

“Lucie’s like her father,” Mrs. Knox said. “She needs someone to support her so she can be her best self.”

The warm feeling evaporated. “She’s done pretty damn well on her own for the past twenty or so years. She supports herself just fine.”

“No, no.” She reached across the bar to put a hand over mine. “That’s not what I mean. Of course our Lucie is independent. Stubborn. Driven to champion her causes. But she’s also afraid of doing the wrong thing. Of being wrong. Of messing up.”

“She won’t,” I insisted. “She’ll do motherhood the same way she does everything else, by throwing her whole self into it and trying her best.”

“You know she’ll be a wonderful mother. So do I. But sometimes Lucie can’t see past her fear. Fear that she won’t be enough. Fear that she’ll fail.”

I slipped my hand out from under hers. “What can I do? She didn’t want me.”

“Is that what she said?”

“I proposed. She turned me down.” I reached down to the speed rail and turned each bottle so the labels faced me.

“For Lucie, marriage and a baby mean losing part of oneself. Giving up one’s dreams. That’s not how I saw my experience, but it’s the story she created.”

I froze with my hand on the bottle of Jack Daniels. I’d come in hot with the ring, the engagement photos, the house in the suburbs. It was what I wanted, not what she wanted. She’d have had to file off a huge chunk of herself to fit into the space I offered. How could I have asked her to do that when I loved every part of her just the way she was?

“Have you told her this?” I asked.

She traced the rim of her wineglass. “We don’t talk as much as I’d like.”

I stood up straight. “So what do I do to support her in the way she needs?”

She smiled. “I think you already know. Tell her how extraordinary, how talented and capable she is. Show her she’s worthy by meeting her where she is.”

I scratched my neck. “But…but I’m just a bartender. My plans to buy the bar fell through. Am I what she needs? Maybe I should stay out of her way.”

“Did Lucie say she only liked you because you were buying the bar?”

“No, but…but she deserves so much more.”

“Don’t you think it’s up to her to decide what she deserves? What she wants?”

“She already decided.” I stared down at my sneakers. “It wasn’t me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I think her decision was more about herself than about you. Be there for her, okay? Even if she says she doesn’t need anything. Knowing you’re there will be a comfort to her.”

Would it? Hanging around waiting for the woman I loved to need me wasn’t what I’d imagined when I’d thought about fatherhood and my future. But when the woman I loved was Lucie Knox, I couldn’t imagine living my life in any other way.

35

My Bingo Card is Full

What I’ve learned from writing and revising a book about pregnancy is that there’s no “typical” pregnancy and no “typical” delivery. Pregnancy and childbirth aren’t only a physical process. They’re emotional and intellectual too, and that makes them unique. Every mother’s relationship with their child is different. And as long as that relationship benefits them both, when it’s respectful and safe, we should celebrate it.

Dr. Dorothy Dunne, OB-GYN and bestselling author ofDr. Dunne’s Guide to Pregnancy

LUCIE

Something inside me lightened when I heard the knock at my door.Mom’s here.It was like the time I was eight years old, sitting on the curb, my bike crumpled beside me and my knee sliced open. She showed up with a wet wipe and a Mulan bandage and made everything better.

But this time the stakes were a lot higher. I had days before a whole-ass human was about to become my responsibility. A responsibility I wasn’t prepared for. Maybe not even suited for. Not like she was.

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