Chapter 17: The First Ring

Darius told her in the car, with the engine off and the garage dark around them.

"The due date was that Thursday," he said. "I'd been in the Lakeshore lot three nights."

Elsie turned in the seat.

"In the lot."

"In my car. I told myself I wouldn't go in. I only wanted to be there if you needed someone."

"And Thursday night?"

"I had the phone in my hand and your number on the screen. I was working out what to say."

His voice was rough.

"Then it rang, and it was you."

She looked at him for a long time.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," she said.

"I know."

"You could have knocked on my door in April."

"I know that too."

She put her hand over his scarred thumb, and he turned his hand over and held on.

Six weeks after the birth, on a Friday morning, a doctor signed Elsie's chart.

Elsie made her say it twice.

That night the young mother from the first floor took the twins and two bottles.

She swore she would call at the first whimper.

Darius's apartment was on the thirty-ninth floor, with a wall of glass and the river lit up below.

He took her coat and did not take anything else.

"Elsie."

"Don't be careful," she said. "I've had enough careful."

He crossed the room in three strides.

His mouth came down on hers, and she opened to it at once.

He lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He carried her into the bedroom and set her down on the edge of the bed.

She was already pulling at his tie.

"Slowly," he said. "I've waited since the stairwell."

"I've waited longer than that."

He knelt and took off her shoes, and then unzipped the dress and slid it down her body, and he stopped.

She was in the black lace set she had bought that week, a size larger than before.

Her hands went to cover her stomach.

"Don't," Darius said.

He took both her wrists and eased them aside.

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