Page 139 of Bar Down, Baby

“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe I can beat the boat and take the Burnside Bridge?”

I look around us, and the baby kicks my bladder again.

“Jesus, demon spawn,” I hiss.

Derek laughs. It’s a quick, barking laugh, and it catches me off guard. Because it sounds like the old Derek.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this funny to you? You did this to me.”

“From what I recall, you asked me to,” he says, his pupils flaring ever so slightly.

My thighs clench, remembering that night in the hotel room in Seattle.

“Oh, did I now?”

“Well, I don’t know if it was so much asking as it was begging…” His words are light, but for some reason, they make me flush with embarrassment. He glances at me and his face falls. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” I say with a light, awkward laugh. “I knew what you meant.”

He scrubs a hand down his face as the barge inches closer to the bridge.

“Why is this so hard?” He says it more to himself.

And I fight the urge to reach out and squeeze his hand on the steering wheel. But I push against the urge because I’m still not sure he’s committed. Sure, he picked me up and brought me to this appointment. And he’s been a loyal TriMet-rider for ten days in a row. And yes, he did an incredible thing, organizing my friends to help prepare my home for this baby. But that was for me—not for us. He hasn’t actually made any changes or sacrifices to his own life. It still feels like an important distinction and there’s a stark threshold he hasn’t yet crossed.

Honestly, I’m not sure what it’s going to take to believe him when he says he wants to be there for us. That he sees a future with us. I guess I’ll just have to take it one day at a time and see if he shows up. I don’t know if I can do that, live that way. I’m scared I’ll let myself believe him, and then come to depend on him, and then one day he’ll wake up and realize it’s all too much and he’ll drop off again.

“Ugh,” I groan as the baby kicks my bladder again, and I nearly pee myself in his fancy car.

“This is ridiculous,” he mumbles.

“Can you just take me back to your place?”

“My place?” He stares straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel. Something in the way his knuckles go white at my question makes my stomach flip, and not in a good way.

“Unless there’s a reason you don’t want to?” I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral, staring at the slowest damn boat I’ve ever seen in my life.

“No,” he says, running his fingers through his hair and tugging. “It’s just… it’s sort of a mess right now.”

“Is your bathroom clean?” I ask.

“Yeah, of course.”

“That’s all I need.” I look over at him, holding his gaze, trying to figure out what it is that he’s worried about. He frowns and lets out a sigh, and then nods.

“Yeah, okay.” He signals and then turns around, heading the opposite direction of the river.

He makes a few quick turns, hitting green lights as every bump jostles the baby against my bladder. But at least we’re moving toward my toiletular salvation.

He approaches his building and there’s a spot on the street right out front. He pulls into it, foregoing the garage that would take a few extra minutes for the door to open and to scan in. He parks the car and jumps out before I can say anything, rushing around the car to open my door. I almost laugh at how serious he is. It’s as if I’m in labor, or he’s rehearsing for the main event.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” he says. He scans his key fob at the entrance and opens the door for me. I waddle through and head for the elevator.

“There’s a restroom in the community room, if you want to use that?” He nods toward the hall that leads past the elevators.

There’s a loud cheer from that direction. It sort of sounds like BINGO. I didn’t think BINGO could get that noisy.

“No, it’s okay,” I say, pressing the up button.

---