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Show Motherlunge a novel 199 I realized with a start that I should leave the office now, while I was still feeling interesting and reassured. "Naptime," I sighed, and I stowed Xavier back in the seat of the stroller. "Bye-bye," I said, and everyone repeated after me-Flint loudest of all, his heels rising up from the insoles of his loafers-waving their fingers at us until I turned and started back down the hall toward the elevators. With straight-armed discipline, I pushed the stroller along, watching the rubber wheels pick up lint and some resistance on the carpeting. I was calculating the number of baggies of breastmilk we had left in the freezer at home when I rounded the last cubicle comer by the elevators and the stroller stopped with a sudden muted klonk. The stroller wheels had hit the wheels of Eli's plant-watering cart. And Eli was looking at Xavier-with surprise, of course, but not with distaste-and then up at me. Klonk. "Hey," Eli said. "I was going to call you." He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, then bent down briefly, reaching for something on his cart. He lifted his camera up to his face and twisted the lens to focus it on us. He clicked the shutter. Eli lowered the camera, klonk, and reached forward to take my hand in his. He pressed. Xavier let out a single, pointless scream. "Anyway," Eli said, smiling a little, "I've got you now." |