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Show Motherlunge a novel 54 "We're separated, not divorced." "Do his parents know about the baby?" Pavia nodded. "They're excited, Jack says. They think it will bring us back together." "Will it?" "I don't think so." She stopped to appraise a shoe display in a window, then pressed on. "I'll hardly ever see them again." "They're going to want to see the baby." "I guess. But they hate me now. They're not going to see me." Pavia pulled her arms across her chest, hugging herself against the wind. "They wouldn't miss the money, though." She tucked her chin down into her scarf. The college crowd thinned as we walked on toward the townhouse, finally matching our strides. The snow was starting to stick on the sidewalks and parking meters, on the topsides of the bare tree branches. Pavia slowed down. Her gloved hand reached out to flick away the snow from each of the knobbed finials atop the wrought iron fence. Flick. Flick. Flick She cleared her throat. "I have an idea I want you to help me with. Ed and Nanette are coming back from vacation tomorrow to spend Christmas with Jack. I want to meet them at the airport." "Why do you need me?" "Just come with me. I'm going to ask them about the money. For the baby. I need," she said, her voice rising as if at the end of a question, "I don't know. Just be there?" "Okay." |