Page 58 of The Fix-Up

Gil’s head tilted. He wasn’t exactly smiling, a facial expression that, I was learning, was not common for him. “I never say anything I don’t mean. A man’s word is his promise. Right, Oliver?” He held a fist out.

“Right.” Oliver fist-bumped him. “We say what we meaned and we meaned what we say. We learned that in our Man Club.”

“Your what?”

“It’s a club for us guys to talk about guy stuff. Like when you go and see the aunts and talk about girl stuff.” Oliver puffed his chest out. “I need a club for being a man. I’m the president. Mr. Gil is the vice president.”

“Oh, really?”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about all this. Oliver had never seemed all that interested in knowing about his dad. I knew one day he would be, of course. At the very least, there would be questions. Chris and my dad had done a great job stepping up as role models and Oliver loved his Uncle Chris and his Papa. But I’d never seen him become attached to a man unrelated to us, except for Ollie. Oliver had adored Ollie, and the feeling had been mutual.

My phone rang. I scooped it off the coffee table and answered. “Hey, you’re on speakerphone.”

“Can’t. Watch. Oliver,” my brother said.

“Why do you sound like you’re running a marathon? Is everything okay? Is it the baby?”

“Yes. I mean, no, but yes.”

I heard someone shouting in the background. “Is that Mae? Where are you?”

“We’re at the hospital and—” His voice became muffled, but I could clearly hear him say, “Yes, I’ll put it on speakerphone. Calm down.”

Mae’s voice was loud and clear when he did just that. “…did not tell me to calm down.”

“It was an accident.”

“An accident? Like the one that will happen to you when you disappear?”

“I panicked, okay? I’ve never had a pregnant wife. I promise I won’t say it next time.”

“Next time? Nope. We’re going to be a one-and-done family. We’re getting separate beds after this. In separate bedrooms. Maybe in separate houses.”

“Aw, Sprinkles. It’s not so bad, is it?”

There was a loud clatter and, if I were a betting woman, I would say Chris had just had a projectile of some kind thrown at him.

“Hey, hello,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“She thought she was having those fake contractions,” Chris said.

“Braxton Hicks,” Mae said. “That’s what they’re called.”

“Yeah, those. But then they didn’t go away like they usually do and so we called and the doctor told us to head to the hospital,” Chris said. “Since she’s still four weeks from her due date, the doctor gave her something to stop the contractions. They’re keeping her overnight just in case.”

“Oh, bummer,” I said.

Mae groaned. “I cannot wait for this kid to get out of me.”

“I wanted to call and let you know we can’t watch the O-Man tonight.”

“Oh, right.” I glanced at the time. “It’s not too late to cancel. No big deal.”

“No!” Mae shouted. “You are not allowed to cancel.”

“I can’t take Oliver with me on a date,” I said. Although judging by my previous dating experience, Oliver would be a much better companion.

“Someone in town can watch him. Call Iris.”

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