Something Blue - Emily Giffin [85]
"Milo? Was that the guy Brandi cheated on you with?"
"No. Milo's the baby."
"Oh," I said sheepishly, knowing that I should have remembered that detail. I looked at Ethan, wondering what empathetic words Rachel would offer. She always had a way of saying the right thing, making someone feel better. I couldn't think of anything good so I just waited for Ethan to continue.
"For nine months, I thought I was going to be a father. I went to every doctor's appointment and fell in love with those ultrasound pictures… I even picked the name Milo." He shook his head. "Then we had the baby, and I realized he wasn't mine."
"When did you know for sure that he wasn't yours?"
"As soon as he was born. I mean, he was dark-skinned with black eyes and all this crazy black hair sticking up everywhere. I kept thinking of my own baby pictures. Bald and pink. Brandi's a blue-eyed blonde too. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on."
"So what did you do?"
"For the first few days, I think I was in shock. I pretended that it wasn't true, that it was just a fluke genetic thing… All the while, in the back of my mind, I remembered that 'big b, little b' chart from high-school biology… Two blue-eyed parents just couldn't make a Milo."
I touched his arm lightly. "That must have been so hard."
"It was awful. I mean, I loved that little boy. Enough so that I almost stayed with her. In the end… well… you know the rest." His voice cracked. "I left. It felt as though someone had died."
I remembered Rachel telling me about Ethan's divorce and the baby that wasn't his. At the time, I think I had been preoccupied with some crisis of my own and hadn't been particularly empathetic to his pain.
"You did the right thing," I said now, taking his hand in mine.
He didn't pull away. "Yeah. I guess I did."
"Do you think I did the right thing? Keeping my baby?"
"Absolutely."
"Even though you think I'm being a bad mother so far?" I asked, resisting the urge to tell him about my list. I wanted to make more progress before confiding in him.
"You'll get it together," Ethan said, squeezing my hand. "I have faith in you."
I looked at him, and felt the same way I did on Thanksgiving, sitting on our bench in Holland Park. I wanted to kiss him. But of course I didn't. I wondered why I resisted, when in the past I had always followed my impulses with not much thought of the consequences. Maybe because it didn't feel like a game with Ethan, the way it had with Marcus and so many guys before him. Maybe because I had more to lose. Blurring the line between friendship and attraction was a surefire way to lose a friend. And losing one good friend was enough this year.
Later that night, after Ethan and I watched the news, he turned to me and said, "C'mon, Darce. Let's hit the hay."
"The hay in your room?" I asked hopefully.
Ethan laughed. "Yeah. In my room."
"So you missed me last night?" I asked.
He laughed again. "I wouldn't go that far."
But I could tell by his expression that he had missed me. I could also tell that he was a little bit sorry for our fight, even though much of what he had said about me was true. Ethan liked me in spite of my flaws, and as I fell asleep next to him, I thought of how much more he was going to like the new and improved Darcy.
* * *
twenty-two
The next morning, prodded by another series of kicks from my baby, I decided that I would go apply for a job at the nursing home Meg and Charlotte had told me about. Ethan had already left for the day, so I used his computer to type up my resume and a quick cover letter, which articulately explained that my success in the world of public relations had everything to do with my outgoing personality, and that certainly this quality would translate well in the group bingo setting. After I spellchecked the letter, opting for the British spelling of the words colourful and organised, I showered, dressed, and headed out into the London chill.
When I arrived at the nursing home, I was blasted with the distinct and depressing odor