"Play, play, play!" Hellie chanted.
Miranda bundled them up and they walked outside. Hellie stumbled a little bit, so Miranda picked her up. "Did you get new feet today?" she laughed as she tickled the little girl.
They were halfway to the playground when Miranda saw the car pull up in front of them. She stopped for a moment, then went on. She got to the car as Michael got out.
He leaned on the car and smiled contritely. "Hi," he waved.
Maybe it was the long bath she’d had the night before or the fact that Hellie was with her now. Maybe it was the look in Michael’s eyes. Maybe it was that he was clean-shaven. She couldn’t stay angry with him. "How was the game?" she asked as she squeezed Hellie tightly.
"Our team won, we ate chips, drank—soda for me, beer for them. It was a good night, as those things go."
"Surprised you’re not sweating that off at the gym."
"I already did, but then I thought I needed to come here and sweat off a few more things." He strummed his fingers on the car roof. "I hope this doesn’t constitute stalking though. I’m trying to cut down."
"The fact that you announced yourself is definitely a step in the right direction."
"So maybe there’s hope for me after all."
"Who’s he?" Hellie asked loudly.
Miranda adjusted Hellie in her arms as Michael came around to the street. "This is a friend of mine. His name is Michael. You should say hi."
"Hi," Hellie said loudly. "My name’s Helen, but I let my friends call me Hellie."
Michael looked at Miranda as if he were starting to understand something. "Nice to meet you, Helen," Michael said. "Can I call you Hellie too?" Hellie nodded, and Michael smiled. "I’ve heard a lot about you from Miranda."
"How do you know Randy?" Hellie asked in her serious, high-pitched voice.
Michael looked at Miranda. "I, um, grew up with Mi—I mean, Randy. And now we work together."
"Then you must work with my mommy too. Are you one of mommy’s friends?"
Miranda looked down and smiled. "I’ve known your mommy and daddy for a while," Michael finally said. "Do you know Richard?"
"Uncle Richard?" Hellie squeaked again.
"Well, he is my cousin," Michael said.
"So you’re sort of my uncle too."
Miranda thought she was going to burst. "Oh Hellie, Michael’s just a new friend, okay? We don’t have to go to his house and pour juice on his couch."
"Okay," Hellie said sullenly. Then she looked up at Michael. "We’re going to the playground. Do you want to come?"
Michael looked at Miranda, who nodded. "Thank you Hellie, I’d love to come."
Hellie peppered Michael with questions on the way to the park. What did he do at mommy’s work? How come she hadn’t met him before? Was he older or younger than Richard? Why didn’t he wear glasses like him? How long had he known Auntie Randy? Did he know Jessie, and Martin, and Zainab? When did he see her daddy? But then she forgot all of them as soon as she got inside the playground gate. She jumped out of Miranda’s arms and ran over to some of the other neighborhood kids she knew.
Michael looked after her for a moment. "Helen."
"They wanted to name her Eve at first, but I thought Helen was a better choice."
"That was kind of them."
"It was more than that."
Michael nodded. "She looks like her mother."
"I hope you don’t hold that against her," Miranda said sarcastically.
"I don’t fault Emily her appearance."
"There’s something. But she’s a lot like Mitch, too."
Michael nodded. "Yeah, she seems to have his hair. She’s a pretty little girl." He looked at Miranda now. "But I’ve seen prettier."
"I can’t do this right now. Please stop—"
"I’m sorry," Michael said, holding up his hand. "I know I’ve gotten really good at saying that. I don’t want to have to keep saying it, but I need to now. I get it, alright? I know—" he took a deep breath—"I know you ended up with Alex—and me—when you were a little girl for a reason. There was no one else left. I know you have your family in Israel now, but it’s different. Richard’s here, and he’s family, but I know why you wouldn’t want to lean on him after everything. I’m sorry for what I said, and I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you then."
"Please don’t—"
"No, I don’t mean it like that. I know why you sent me away. I get it. I got it then. I still wish you hadn’t, and I wished it even more a few days ago. But I understand. I’m sorry that you went through all of that without me. I’m not angry at you. I was angry that there was one more thing. And it’s easier if it’s your fault. Anyone’s fault. But I’m not angry at you—it wasn’t your fault. I think maybe I did deserve a call to let me know, but I know why you wouldn’t feel that way. And the truth is that I’m angry at myself for that much more than I am at you or anyone else."
"Don’t Michael," Miranda said quietly. "That was part of why I didn’t want you to know."
"I know that, and that’s why I feel so much worse for what I said. I want you to know that if I had been here, and you had to make a choice, it would have been your choice. I would have done whatever you wanted to. Because I do love you, and I don’t think you’re a game."
Miranda looked down so she wouldn’t have to look at all of the toddlers playing in the sandbox. Michael tentatively reached out to touch her shoulder. "You had some names picked out, didn’t you?" She looked up and nodded, smiling. He touched her cheek. "I thought it was strange that you’d use my dad’s name as your password until I thought about it again yesterday. You were going to name him Stephen, weren’t you?"
"Yes," she whispered painfully. "I know how much you loved your dad, and how much you would have—" She stopped. "It just seemed like the perfect name."
"Thank you," he said softly. "Was his middle name going to be Michael?"
"No," she said flatly.
"Why not?"
"Because he was Jewish, and we don’t name children after the living. I was going to name him Stephen Asher."
He took her hand. "I like that a lot. And if it had been a girl...were you thinking Eve? Or Helen? Or Tatiana?"
She smiled. "Well, we Hamiltons have our own tradition, I guess. I had Beatrice picked out. And Anna, after your mother."
Michael wrinkled his nose and laughed. "No way. Beatrice Anna Abbot? That just doesn’t work."
"Beatrice Anna Harel," Miranda corrected.
"Harel?" Michael shook his head firmly. "No way. My baby, my name."
"Would you join the twenty-first century please? First of all, we’re divorced—"
"I think we should fix that."
"It’s a little late to contest the divorce, I believe."
"Maybe I had something else in mind."
Miranda blushed. "Second of all, my baby should have my name too."
"I think we should talk about that."
Miranda remembered herself. "I think we already did."
"Then we need to talk again." He didn’t take his eyes off of her as he reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out an envelope. "My turn."
She took the envelope and then took out a letter. It was just one paragraph, but she wanted to read it a few times to make sure she got it right. She bit her lip. "Is this right?" she said finally.
"I had them double-check." He took the letter back and put it back in his pocket. "I’m not a carrier, sweetheart. You’d never have to go through that again."
She felt her pulse beat in her ears. She touched her face to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She remembered being on the beach three years ago, when it felt like the world closed in on her. Suddenly it opened up again.
For him, too, the world was more filled with potential than it had ever been. He steadied her. "I guess you’ll have to come up with another reason not to have a baby with me," he said softly.
She looked at his large, dark, beautiful eyes, his strong mouth and his wide f
ace. "Do you really want to have a baby?" she said breathlessly. "We never talked about children. And I don’t remember you liking them very much, which sort of seems—"
"I want you to know something," he said. He saw himself reflected in her eyes, and he liked it. "I had a great father. He took me to ball games, and he played catch with me. He’d ask me about my day, and then he’d tell me about his. My mother too. She was always taking me places and wanted me to know about all of the beautiful things that were out there. They both loved me. I lost them way too young, but I remember them really well. And maybe I wouldn’t have been such a bastard all this time if I didn’t remember what it felt like to be the center of someone’s world, and then all of a sudden have that burn away. I want to be like my dad, but better. Because I’m not going to be so ashamed of my life and the things I’ve done that I’m going to lie to my wife, and I’m not going to leave my wife and child in the middle of the night and never come back." She put her hand on his chest. "And by the way, I don’t see how I wouldn’t be totally in love with a baby girl who had your beautiful blue eyes."
She wished they were alone. "That’s a shame, because for years now I haven’t been able to stop thinking about a really handsome little boy with dark wavy hair and deep brown eyes. And of course those long eyelashes."
"It doesn’t matter, because I think any baby you’d have would be beautiful no matter what it looked like. And I know you’d be the best mother."
"And I think you’d make a wonderful father."
"I think I should be a husband first."
"No," she said adamantly. "I think you should be a father first."
He hugged her, and he felt, at last, like he was coming back. "Yeah? What were you thinking?"
"Emily and I are leaving for Israel in ten days, and we’re gone for a week."
"Thanks for mentioning that before, by the way."
"You’re not the only one who likes to surprise people, I guess."
"Guess not." He squeezed her. "I’m pretty sure we could work something out in ten days."
"You’re that confident, huh?"
"I’m very motivated."
He was about to lean in for a kiss when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. "Should she be up that high?"
Miranda gasped when she saw Hellie standing at the top of the tower, clearly intended for five-year-olds and older. Miranda was about to run to her when Michael calmly walked up the stairs to the tower and guided Hellie so she could use the slide without falling. "Yay!" Hellie said, waving as she flew down the slide.
Miranda scooped her up as soon as she came down. "Hellie, you can’t go up that high, you silly thing! You scared me!"
Michael came around and rubbed Hellie’s head. "Now, now, Randy, no harm done. I could have caught her if she were going to fall." He bent down so he was at Hellie’s level. "Say, Hellie, do you like ice cream as much as Auntie Randy?"
Hellie nodded vigorously. "But it has to be No Moooooo!"
Michael laughed and looked up at Miranda. "Huh?"
Miranda giggled. "Hellie can’t have milk, and there’s an ice cream place nearby that has No Moo or no milk ice cream."
"I see," Michael said, looking at Hellie again. "Lead the way then!"
Hellie grabbed Michael and Miranda’s hands and pulled them out of the playground. On the way to the ice cream shop, she asked Michael even more questions about who he was and if he liked Miranda and was she going to see him again. Miranda and Michael both sighed with relief once they got to the shop and Hellie skipped off to play with the chalkboard.
"She does not stop, does she?" Michael said, shaking his head.
"Unfortunately, they do not come with an off-switch."
Michael smiled as he watched Hellie scribble in chalk and get covered with dust, then he kissed Miranda and stood in line to order ice cream. Miranda joined Hellie at the chalk board. "He’s nice," Hellie whispered.
Miranda bent her head to reach the little girl. "I think so too."
Michael came back with chocolate No-Moo ice cream for Hellie, chocolate chip ice cream for Miranda and coffee ice cream for himself. He and Miranda looked at each other as they ate their cones, remembering the last time they’d had those flavors together. "No sundae this time?" she asked at last.
"I only eat sundaes on special occasions. At home."
Hellie ate her ice cream, drew some more, then put her head on Miranda’s lap and fell asleep. Michael watched Miranda stroke the little girl’s hair. "What?" she asked when she caught him watching her.
"Nothing," he said, trying to smile.
"Yes," she said after a moment.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, he would have been about this age."
"He would have had a birthday right around now, I think."
She nodded. "His birthday might have been exactly the same as his dad’s. You never know. Hellie was almost three weeks late, but sometimes they’re just that early."
"I’m sure he would have taken after his mother and done his own thing."
"Wow," she said, biting her lip and looking away.
"What’s wrong?" he said softly.
"It’s strange that you know about him. And it’s really bizarre to talk about him with you."
"Does he have to be a secret?"
"He wasn’t a secret because I was ashamed of him. I just wanted to protect him, so people—so people who didn’t love him like I did wouldn’t think whatever they’d be bound to think."
"How much does that matter? Because even if our baby is healthy, someone’s always going to look at him or her like there’s something wrong with him. If only because he or she would be mine."
"As long as I’m around, then I’m not worried."
"So we’ll just have to make sure nothing happens to you."
"I’m not the one who does drugs, drinks—"
"Neither do I. Anymore."
"—Gets into car accidents—"
"I wear my seat belt now."
"—Or gets shot."
"Are you going to hold that against me forever?"
"Yes. I almost lost you."
"But you didn’t, and that made you realize how much you love me. It was a fair trade off."
"I always knew I loved you."
"Wanted me."
"Ditto."
"Needed me."
"That too."
"Couldn’t live without me."
She shook her head. "It made me realize that I wanted you, needed you, loved you more than anything else. It made me realize that nothing else was worth having if I couldn’t have you too."
He had to wait a moment before he could say anything. "But now you know that you don’t have to choose. You can have it all. We can have it all."
"Sorry, I’m a skeptical person now. I’m afraid I won’t believe it until it happens."
"Until what happens?"
"Why are you so insecure?"
"I just want to hear you say it."
"Until I’m holding our baby in my arms and someone pronounces us man and wife."
"Explain to me why it needs to be in that order?"
"Because we never stopped being man and wife, so I’d rather put my energy into new projects."
Michael felt like he was floating. "Are you sure you don’t just want to make sure I’m up for the task?"
"Considering that we only ever had one opportunity and that did the trick, I can assure you, I’m not worried about your abilities."
"Mm hmm. Okay, but if we’re doing it this way, then I want a pre-nup."
"That sounds fair. What are your terms, Mister Abbot?"
"I want you to make love to me every night."
"Before or after the baby?"
Michael remembered Mitch’s comments from the night before. "Both."
"I think I can handle that."
"And I want to make up for every night we missed while I’ve been away."
"Does that mean we need to double up for the first two and a hal
f years, or do we need to spread it out over a longer period of time? I just want to be perfectly clear."
"Let’s plan on some combination of both. I thought about you a lot while we were apart."
"Don’t make promises you can’t keep."
"You can’t travel too much."
"After we’re married."
Michael raised his eyebrows, but Miranda didn’t flinch. "No sexy black or red dresses unless you’re with me."
"Is that inside or outside the house?"
"I’ll let you know. No flirting with investors."
"Is it okay if I go to the gym with them?"
"Only if I can come with you, and I get veto the workout wear."
"Go on."
"I want a big wedding."
"I don’t think we have enough friends between us for one."
"Then how about a formal wedding?"
"Are you done?"
"I think so."
"Good, now I have some terms."
"You always do."
"No stalking, breaking into my files or otherwise violating my privacy."
"I didn’t do that the first time."
"You have to take me out at least once a week and not get bent out of shape if someone looks at me, because you’re the only one I’m looking at."
"Fine."
"And if you’re seriously going to curtail how I dress in public, then you need to get some baggier workout clothes."
"Why? Are you worried about me being cold?"
"You know you’re hot, okay?"
"I’m sorry, how long has that been for?"
"Since you started looking at me like that. Only maybe I was the only who appreciated it. But then you started working out, and you’re all muscly and hard and you like that some cute massage therapist enjoys working on you."
"Are you really jealous of Adele?"
"That might be too strong a word, but I don’t love it. And, by the way, I don’t think you should be happy about me being annoyed."
"Forgive me; I’m just not used to being in this position. And, just for the record, you don’t have anything to worry about."
"So you weren’t planning on going back after you’d healed up?"
"I do enjoy the work, but I’m willing to switch therapists."
"Oh, right—someone big, bulky and maybe named Rolf?"
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