“I haven’t . . .”
“Let me finish. I don’t have anyone in your family or my friends to help me out on the baby front, so I had to figure out a way to educate myself.”
“But why this class?” I hold up the binder and read out loud, “Black to Basics Parenting.”
“I’m not clueless, Nina, though sometimes I get the feeling you think I am. I know our situation is less than typical. I know my baby’s not going to look exactly like me. I know people will assume it’s not mine, and there’s more that I don’t know at this point than I do, but all that means is I have double the learning to do.”
Has Leo had more of a clue than I have given him credit for all these months?
“And you, I hate to tell you”—Leo points right at me—“but you are not the only book nerd. I kill it in the classroom too. Summa cum laude at Pomona. Stanford Law Review. And, yes, you should be impressed.” Leo grins and writes a big A+ with his finger in the air. “And I plan on graduating top of this parenting class too.”
“Why didn’t you want me to take this class with you?” I ask, though my gut knows the answer. Leo doesn’t even entertain my question.
“I need to learn how to take care of a baby, and I’m the lucky dad with the added bonus of learning how to do it for my Black child. So, I looked for a class that was geared toward parents of Black children.”
I’m quickly filing through my brain trying to figure out a proper response. Nothing but surprise comes to mind.
“I went to one class I found through a community center, but all the moms in the group were too bossy. They never let any of us dads talk or ask questions.” Another time I will have to educate Leo on the truth that there’s nothing bossier than a Black mother. If only Celia were here, she could have given Leo an immersion course.
“So, then I found another parenting class not too far from my house for Black fathers.”
I raise my eyebrows at Leo. No need to state the obvious.
“I showed up early the first night and explained my situation to the group leader. Surprise baby, stubborn mother, he got the picture real quick and had me wait outside while he checked with the other dads.”
I’m taken aback by Leo’s appreciation of the need for Black spaces. And who knew a story about a parenting class would have such a cliffhanger? I wave both hands encouraging Leo to go on.
“The group said yes, and the past few months the guys have been super supportive, and I’ve made some new friends. They’re just a bunch of first-time dads like me with all the same questions, and none of them think my enthusiasm is silly. Plus, they bring beer. The other class with the moms, no beer. Speaking of, I need another one.” Leo pops up and grabs the last one out of his fridge.
“Also, one dad named T. J. is a big rider too. We’ve been shooting emails back and forth about kid bike trailers, and we’re building killer baby playlists. One for tummy time, one for car rides, and one to get the kid to sleep.” Leo saying tummy time may be the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.
“So yeah, that’s my binder from class, and T. J.’s offered himself up as my resident expert for all things if we have a boy. He knows he’s having a boy, and he and his wife have decided to name him Ace. I think he’s secretly hoping we have a son too. Uhhhh, so that’s pretty much it.” Leo shrugs and drums his fingers on the neck of his beer bottle. Story time’s over.
I love this man, I love this man, I love this man.
I have no idea how I get from sitting on his living room floor, eight feet apart, back to where we once were. Particularly when I have to go to New York first. “I know we are on a kind of . . .” On a break? Sabbatical? Waiting period? The lack of clarity is killing me. Leo doesn’t jump in to fill in the blank.
“But on Saturday morning I fly to New York for the opening night of Xandra’s play. I can’t even tell you how much I’m looking forward to seeing her, plus, I want to meet this drama teacher she’s been spending far too much time complaining about. And, before you ask, yes, I can still fly.”
“Yeah, I know. The guys and I were talking on Tuesday about how thirty-six weeks is the travel cutoff. A couple of them are planning babymoons.” Ohhh maybe I could sell a trip to New York as a doubleheader, visiting Xandra and a mini-babymoon to get our groove back on track. “I’m having good luck flowers delivered to Xandra on Saturday morning. An extra big bunch so Dash can enjoy them too.”
“Wait, what?! How’d you know Xandra and Dash’s play is coming up?”
“Xandra sent me a picture of her and Dash from dress rehearsal, and I follow her on Instagram. And I do keep up with everything you tell me about your family. They’re part of my life, too, you know.”
So, while I’ve continued to keep Leo and his family at arm’s distance, Leo has been actively figuring out ways to embrace mine.
“You and Xandra text?”
“Yeah. Not often, but I gave her my number at Christmas in case she ever needed anything. Like a ride home from a late-night party over the holidays when she may not want to call her bossy mother,” Leo confesses, with a touch of bragging. “One of the guys in my class is a stepdad, and he’s been giving me solid advice on how to build a relationship with Xandra without her calling foul on my overeager efforts.” I need to send that guy a thank-you note.
“Anyway, I was a champion at sneaking out when I was a kid, but I almost got caught one too many times because I didn’t have a ride home,” Leo reminisces.
“Did Emily know about your creeping ways?” I ask, imagining the sweater set blowing out her bun if Leo went missing at bed check.
“Still to this day, oblivious. But there were some close calls. I didn’t always account for my mom being an early riser.”
“Good to know stealth will be part of our child’s genetic makeup. Maybe I should keep him or her in here through puberty.” We laugh together and it feels natural, for the first time in weeks, to be in sync.
“Anyway, about a month ago Xandra was working through an ethics paper and needed some help, so she reached out.”
“And you helped her?” Not only does Leo care about the baby that’s his, but he’s making over-the-top efforts with my baby as well.
“Of course I did, Nina, you have a great kid. Xandra and I are going to be in each other’s lives from here on out, so I want us to have a relationship beyond holidays and special occasions. She’s got a busy mom, and I want Xandra to know I’m here for her, and that you and I are a parenting team.”
A few quiet tears slide down my face. Any woman would have held a man like Leo close. I’ve done the opposite and pushed him away. All my reasons for not wanting to marry this man no longer make sense.
“Nina, why are you really here? Don’t get me wrong, it’s been nice having dinner with you, but I don’t really buy the burrito delivery bullshit.”
“Leo, will you come to New York with me?”
TWENTY-FIVE
And then what’d he say?!” If Marisol had her hand jammed into a tub of buttered popcorn rather than soaking her cuticles, you’d think we were at the movies.