Chapter 27: Cleared

Six weeks after the hearing, my doctor signed a piece of paper, and I took it to Sunday dinner at Pete's.

The tap was closed to the public, which meant it was full of family.

Pete stood at the grill in an apron that said KISS THE COOK, DON'T KISS HIS SISTER.

Shelby sat at the long table cutting Eli's chicken into dinosaur-sized pieces.

Eli was swinging his legs and telling her about a triceratops.

Ty sat at the end with our daughter on his shoulder, patting her back in slow circles, and she burped on his shirt.

"That's the third one," he said, pleased.

"You're keeping score," I said.

"Somebody has to."

The baby had come home six weeks ago.

Ty had spent every night of it on the Lakeview couch.

He had never once knocked on my door.

He had taken every two a.m. feeding I let him take, and a good many I didn't.

He had signed a one-year contract with Cleveland, without the C and with a pay cut he never complained about.

He still wasn't allowed in my bed.

I had made the rule myself, and I had been the one to lie awake because of it.

I put the doctor's paper on the table beside his plate.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Read it."

He read it with the baby on his shoulder.

I watched him read it twice.

Pete turned around from the grill. "What is it?"

"My six-week clearance," I said. "Everything's healed. I can do anything I like."

"That's great," Pete said. "That's real good news, Lena."

"I'm doing Ty," I said.

The spatula hit the floor.

Shelby stopped cutting.

Eli looked up, interested. "Doing him what?"

"Doing him a favor, bud," Shelby said, very fast. "Eat your chicken."

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Raised the Cup With His Mistress, But the Boy Was Mine from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.