Chapter 18: New Terms

At two in the morning Beth sat on the arm of her couch in a band hoodie, with a clipboard and a gym whistle on a string.

"Dr. Erickson," she said. "You're late."

"It's 1:58," Ansel said from the doorway.

"Two o'clock feed means two o'clock. In my house, early is on time."

He had his phone in his hand.

He walked to the basket on the hall table, dropped the phone in, and showed her his empty palms.

"Acceptable," Beth said, and wrote something down.

I watched from the nursery doorway with my arms crossed.

It was the ninth night of his shift, and the rule was the same every time.

He fed Pip while I sat in the armchair where I could see him, and Beth sat where she could grade him.

Eli lay on the couch under a blanket with his eyes shut.

I knew he was awake, because he was smiling.

"Swaddle," Beth said.

Ansel laid Pip on the changing pad and folded the blanket around her, corner by corner.

He had cut open people for eleven years, and his hands were perfect.

The swaddle came out lopsided anyway.

"B minus," Beth said. "Her arm's out."

"Her arm is a free agent," Ansel said.

"She gets that from her mother."

"Beth," I said.

"I'm only telling the truth."

Ansel put the bottle to Pip's mouth and sat down.

She drank with her eyes half closed, and one tiny fist rested against his thumb.

He did not look up at either of us.

He looked at her.

I thought of all the nights he had come home at four, and put his hand on my belly in the dark, and said her name before he said mine.

That man had been real.

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