Totally and Completely Fine(48)

“Thinking of taking up rodeo?” I asked, still trying to fix what I’d broken. “It’s pretty dangerous—easy to get hurt.”

Ben looked at me.

“I’ve gotten hurt before,” he said. “You get used to it.”

He took his books and left.

Chapter 27

Then

I had no interest in being a hero when it came to childbirth. Whatever drugs they offered, I took. And when they said that a C-section would probably be best, I was quick to agree. It was major surgery, sure, but at least it wouldn’t rip my vagina apart. Maybe I’d save that for the next kid. If we had one. Though when they put the epidural needle in my back, I realized I wasn’t even sure if I wanted this one.

I told that to Spencer and he informed me that, unfortunately, it was a little too late. I also told him that all of this was his fault, but he didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem to mind anything, not when I was squeezing his hand so hard that his fingers turned white, or when I shouted that I hated him and he was never touching me ever again.

“You’re doing great,” he kept saying.

“Fuck you!” I screamed back.

The nurses thought it was hilarious. I didn’t find the humor in it until at least six months later. Even then I didn’t think it was that funny.

Lena was not a beautiful baby. She was a wrinkly-old-man baby, like a raisin. She was completely bald and tiny, which seemed impossible because she’d felt enormous inside of me. She had fingernails. I marveled over those most of all. Fingernails. On a baby. Who knew?

Apparently everyone, but I hadn’t read many parenting books. There were surely going to be some surprises.

We were lucky—Lena arrived just as Gabe’s movie was wrapping up, so he was able to come home to meet her while I was still in the hospital.

He wasn’t drunk, but he was hungover.

“She’s adorable,” he said, leaning over us.

He smelled like stale whiskey and unclean armpits. I told myself it was because he’d just gotten off a plane. That he would come back the next day showered and bright-eyed.

“She’s a prune baby,” I said. “Have you seen her fingernails?”

“Wow,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

We both stared at Lena with a quiet kind of awe.

“You made that,” he said.

“Can you believe it?”

“Nope,” he said, but he looked proud.

Happy.

“Can I hold her?” he asked.

I hesitated. But only for a minute.

“Mind her head,” I told him as I passed her over.

There was something so special about watching other people holding her. Everyone gazed at Lena with such marvelous wonder that it made my heart swell. Because yes. I had made that.

“We’re gonna be best friends,” Gabe said, tickling under her chin with a finger.

Lena reached out and grabbed it. Held tight.

“I think that’s a binding agreement,” I said.

The next day he was sober. He stayed that way for the entire visit.

It didn’t last.

Chapter 28

Now

I was making brownies—without frosting—when Gabe and Ollie walked into the kitchen.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Did you forget how to use a doorbell?”

As a response, Gabe stuck his finger into the bowl of batter before shoving it into his mouth.

“That’s disgusting,” I said. “Please tell me you washed your hands.”

Gabe gave me a look as if I’d wounded him terribly.

“You know,” I said, “you could have warned me that you’d hired Ben to do the play.”

“I thought he would have told you,” he said. “You know, during all that texting you were doing.”

I threw a dish towel at him.

“He didn’t say anything?” Ollie asked.

I hoped Gabe didn’t pick up on his knowing look.

Luckily, my brother was busy molesting my brownie mix.

“It’s no big deal,” I said. “It just would have been nice to know.”

Ollie gave me a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Hey,” Gabe said, clearly having ignored the last few exchanges between me and Ollie. “Can we use your dining room table?”

“My dining room table?” I repeated.

“Lauren, darling,” Ollie said, “we are at your mercy.”

I rolled my eyes at the drama.

“Don’t you already have a table at your apartment?” I asked Gabe.

“We just need to spread out,” he said. “And you have more space.”

“Spread out?”

“Theatre things,” Gabe said. “Come on, it’s not like you’re currently using it.”

“You know Mom is at the store,” I said. “You could use hers.”

“Yeah, but there aren’t any brownies at hers,” Gabe said, giving me that sad little brother look, which was a bit harder to pull off with the beard. “And I promised Ollie.”

“Fine,” I said, waving a hand. “You might as well stay for dinner then.”