“Yeah, that’s true,” Angie says.
“Are you guys okay?” I ask. “Like, relationship-wise?”
“Yeah? I think so? I don’t know. There’s always so much other stuff to talk about. And even after the episiotomy healed, I really didn’t want to have sex. I think we’ve had sex twice since Guinevere was born.” She shrugs.
“How does Dave feel about that?”
“I don’t know. I probably should ask him, but I feel kinda guilty about it,” Angie says.
“Why would you feel guilty? Doesn’t everybody know that happens after people have babies?”
“Yeah,” Angie says, “but we had been joking the whole pregnancy about how there was no way that would ever happen to us because we were like, well, rabbits. Now here we are. Honestly, he’s probably upset but trying to be nice by not bringing it up, but I don’t bring it up because I’m just too tired.”
I can’t let her leave it unsaid. What if something happens to Dave?
“You should tell him that you care,” I say. “That you’ve noticed him not complaining and that it means a lot to you. ’Cause how much worse would it be if he was complaining?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Angie says.
“Definitely, tell him,” I say. “I mean it.”
Angie cocks her head to the side and starts to say something, but then her face goes pale. Her mouth drops open.
“What?” I look over my shoulder at Sylvie Whitehouse waiting in line at the counter. She’s studying the menu. “Did she see me?” I ask.
“Definitely,” Angie says. “Do you wanna go?”
“I wanted another smoothie.” I’m so sad about it that I want to cry and really might. This smoothie was the best thing to happen to me in a long time. I wanted to have another, and now I can’t, because I obviously can’t wait in line behind the girl whose boyfriend I slept with right before he died.
Angie’s face hardens. She glances at her baby and looks back at me.
“Wait here with Guinnie.” She leaves our booth and walks to the counter and gets in line behind Sylvie. They both stare straight ahead, but by the set of Sylvie’s shoulders, she knows Angie is behind her.
“Meh?” Guinevere asks, and it truly is a question. I can hear it. “Meh? Meh?”
“It’s okay.”
Her gaze had been wandering around the room, but it latches on to me. “Meh,” she tells me.
“She’ll be right back,” I say, and the baby bursts into loud sobs. I launch out of my seat and around the table. “Shh,” I soothe, though it comes out too high-pitched. “It’s okay.” I fiddle with the straps on the seat, trying to unbind her from the carrier’s rigorous safety features. “I’m here,” I say, as if that is comforting.
Once she is free, the baby stops crying, but seemingly only out of confusion. “Beba?” She waits for me to do something, but I don’t know what to do, so I continue to hold her from under her armpits out in front of me. “Meh?” she tries again and whimpers.
I start to swing her back and forth in a tick-tock motion. A series of emotions passes over her face: surprise, pleasure, and then annoyance. I think she likes what I’m doing but is annoyed that I’m distracting her from her mission.
“Baby swing, baby swing,” I sing to her for some reason, and that makes her laugh. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sylvie waiting for her drink. I’ve honestly tried not to think about how much Finny and I hurt her. She and I were never friends, yet what happened is too similar to what Jamie and Sasha did to me for me to be comfortable thinking about it.
Guinevere regards me distrustfully, like she knows people would say I stole another girl’s boyfriend.
“Life is really complicated, Guinnie,” I tell her, still swinging her back and forth. She isn’t very heavy, but my arms are getting tired. Still, I keep rocking in fear she cries again. “Baby swing,” I sing again, but this time, she is less impressed.
“Looks like you’re a natural.”
Angie’s reappeared with my smoothie in a to-go cup and a box for my sandwich.
“Thank you, Angie.” I feel like crying again, and I realize, for the first time, it might be a pregnancy thing.
“I saw the look on your face, and I remembered that feeling,” Angie says. “I wasn’t going to let you leave without one.”
I stand up and trade the child for the to-go cup and take a big drink.