Page 53 of Love is a Game

Tuck leans down to consult the screen. “So, what did you find out?”

I turn to him, and he stills, his eyes searching mine as if sensing the shift, the realization that just rewrote my future.

“Pen?” he prompts. “Did you discover anything important?”

The answer crystallizes, sharp and undeniable.

“Yes, Tuck, I did.” A slow smile spreads across my face. “I found out I want to have a baby.”

Chapter 17

Tuck

“Can grief make you—” I circle a hand in the air, searching for the right word. “Like, lose the plot? Cuckoo?”

We’re out back, after being banished from the kitchen, listening to a flock of noisy blackbirds as the setting sun wrings the colors from the earth.

It’s part of my parents’ well-worn ritual. It starts the same way every time, with Mom tidying around Dad’s prep, then inching closer, sprinkling in extra salt or tweaking his carefully balanced pasta sauce. Before long, she’s meddling in the sacred art of simmering versus boiling. Dad tolerates it up to a point, until his patience finally cracks, and she’s exiled until dinner is ready.

Mom shuffles her feet, considering. “Well, I guess it can alter your state of mind if that’s what you mean,” she says in her measured, teacherly tone.

“I mean…like making rash decisions?”

“You’re worried about Penelope?” Mom adjusts a cushion behind her back. “I think she’s handling things remarkably well, considering the shock of Caitlyn’s death. Naturally, there are a lot of decisions to make quickly. But she’s set a date for the funeral, she’s considering options for the house. What more could you ask of her at this point?”

“That’s just it,” I explain. “She’s suddenly running around like a maniac. Funeral’s sorted, she’s been spending time in Newcombe at that shelter place, interviewing people who knew her mother, collecting contributions for the service.” I shake my head. “She’s barely stopped to take a breath.”

Mom shrugs. “That all sounds completely normal, Tuck. What are you so concerned about?”

I press my lips together, hesitating. “She…decided something. Out of nowhere.”

“And what’s that?”

I rub the back of my neck. “She wants to have a baby.”

Mom carefully sets down her glass of white wine. “Well, she’s in her mid-thirties, Tuck. It’s not unusual for women to start thinking about motherhood at that time.”

“I mean—likenow. Soon.”

“And…with someone?” Mom leans forward, scanning my face. “Or are you saying she wants to do this alone?”

I fold my arms. “She can’t exactly have a baby alone, can she?”

“There’s more than one way to cook an egg, Tuck,” Mom says wryly. “Excuse the pun.”

“But someone still has to be the father.”

“So who does she have in mind?”

“That’s the thing.” I sigh. “She hasn’t really said.”

Mom purses her lips, thoughtful. “And you’re suggesting this decision is a reaction to losing her mother?”

“Yes! Maybe? I mean, couldn’t it be? Grief, emotions, everything getting mixed up in her head?”

“Possibly.” Mom reaches for her wine again. “Or perhaps she genuinely wants a baby.”

“But…surely that should just happen naturally when she, you know, meets the right guy.”

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