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I’ll miss this.
“You know my schedule for next semester still has your name on it,” she says, taking a bite of her ice cream bar as we walk.
“That’s because I’m not leaving until the spring. As of right now, they want me there no later than June first, but I might go early to get settled.”
“Oh, so I get grumpy Dr. Goode for one more semester,” she says with a smile.
“Do people call me that?” I ask.
“I do. But it’s catching on.”
As she laughs, I grab her hand and bring her ice cream to my face, stealing a bite. “I’ll show you grumpy.”
When our laughter subsides, we walk in silence. It’s hard to gauge Sadie’s emotions about all of this. She was upset at Thanksgiving, and I know she’ll miss me, but she’ll be fine. She understands that I’m not a relationship man. This was never going to work, so we’re having fun while we can.
“I can’t help but feel like this baby is kicking you out of your own house. He comes, and you leave.”
“He?” I say, turning toward her in surprise. Did she somehow find out the sex without me?
“It’s just a hunch,” she replies. “I tried saying she for a while, but it didn’t feel right.”
“Have you thought about names?” I ask.
She screws up her face in contemplation. “I like Henry.”
“Henry…”
It doesn’t matter what I think, but suddenly imagining this baby with a name makes it so much more real. It hurts to think about it. And picturing Sadie as a mother is like throwing accelerant on an already burning fire. It’s too much.
“I like Henry,” I reply under my breath as I stare down at the concrete. “Henrietta if it’s a girl?
She throws her head back and laughs. “I like Isla if it’s a girl.”
“Isla or Henry. Both adorable,” I say.
“Thanks,” she replies with a cheesy grin.
“When is the shower?” I ask as we reach the house. Unlocking the door for her, I pull it open and watch as she peels off her shoes without unlacing them, kicking them into the corner next to a pair of brown cowboy boots lying on their side.
“Not until March,” she replies. “My mother is hounding me to find out the sex.”
I help her peel off her coat and hang it on the rack. “Do what you want,” I say. “Don’t let her pressure you.”
“I won’t,” she replies. She’s stretching her back as she walks down the hall toward her room.
I sit on the bench and start unlacing my own shoes when I hear Sadie’s bloodcurdling scream. Bolting from my seat, I sprint down the hall toward her room.
“I’m sorry!” Isaac shouts with his hands up. He’s standing in the middle of the hallway, and Sadie is holding a leather-bound book from my bookcase as if she’s going to use it as a weapon.
I move between them, taking the book from her hand as I softly explain, “He’s my brother.”
“I knew it!” she replies, looking astonished. “You have another brother.”
Turning around, I stare at Isaac with my lips pressed together. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” he says with a shrug.
“You could have texted first,” I mutter.
