Nick nodded.
“Neither do I.”
The first evening was awkward.
He cooked pasta while I folded baby blankets at the kitchen table.
We discussed grocery shopping and hospital bags.
At bedtime, he went to the small room we’d previously used as an office.
He didn’t ask to sleep beside me.
Nine days later, on November 12, Nora arrived.
She weighed seven pounds, eight ounces.
She had dark hair, tiny fingers, and a surprisingly loud cry.
When Nick held her for the first time, tears rolled down his cheeks.
I cried too.
But I knew that one emotional moment couldn’t erase everything that had happened in October.
A baby could bring us joy.
She couldn’t repair our marriage for us.
When visiting hours began, Nick asked whom I wanted to see.
“Your parents,” I said. “And ask Elaine to bring that little outfit with the elephant.”
Elaine arrived carrying the cream-colored baby clothes.
