Page 152 of Slapshot Baby

"Every time."

Dad reaches across the counter and squeezes my hand. His grip is broad, warm, and familiar.

"You deserve that, baby girl." His eyes are wet, shining. "I want to be around for the baby and you. I know I haven't earned it, but I'm asking for the chance."

I stare at the croissant. I should tell him to leave so he won’t break my heart again. Instead, I nod.

“Okay. Thanks, Dad."

He stays for an hour. Asks about my cravings, whether I want a boy or a girl.

Tells me about a coworker whose daughter just had twins, his whole face lighting up at the parts about the baby shower. He refills my water glass without being asked and laughs about how his own father fainted in the delivery room.

Maybe he wants to change for real this time.

I find myself warming up to him. By the time he’s leaving, he kisses my forehead.

"I'll call you this weekend."

"Sure, Dad."

Biscuit watches him walk to his truck, ears flat, then presses her body against me. As my father drives off, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake by letting him in again.

26

KAI

Double Penalty

My mother has never called me at six a.m. unless someone is dead or she's figured out something she thinks I should already know.

Nobody's dead.

"The renovation is going to be stunning, Kai. Ava walked through every room with me yesterday. She saw things in that house I've been staring at for thirty years and never noticed."

I pour coffee one-handed, phone wedged against my ear.

"She's good at that."

"She really is." A pause. "She looked tired, though. Really tired. Has she been sleeping?"

Steam curls off the mug. I take a sip.

"She's been pushing hard on client projects. The studio move is eating her alive."

"It wasn't that kind of tired, sweetheart."

"What kind was it?"

She sighs. "Ava touched her stomach, Kai. Right there in my kitchen. Her hand went straight to her belly like she was protecting something. And when I looked at her, she pulled away so fast she nearly knocked over a plate. A mother notices these things."

My hand stills on the mug. Is she trying to tell me Ava is pregnant?

"Mom."

"I'm not making accusations. I'm asking if there's something you and Ava want to share with your father and me. Because I've started knitting something small and soft just in case."

The coffee becomes tasteless. I set the mug down.