Page 77

“I appreciate you apologizing, Kit. And offering to be involved. But you have a clean out here. I’m prepared to do this myself. I’ll sign whatever you want. I’ll never ask you for money—or anything else. Noone has to know you’re the father. I’mchoosingthis. And you cannotchoose this.”
I reach for my water, pretending to think about it. Part of me is pissed she thinks that’s a decision I’d ever make. The rest of me is determined to do whatever it takes to convince her I want this.
“I’m in,” I state.
Collins swallows. “You can’t say that now and then back out later. I won’t explain to my kid why his or her father is too busy to help with homework or show up at school plays or?—”
“You think our kid will be an aspiring actor? You ran cross-country, and I played lacrosse, so I kinda figured we’d breed another athlete.”
Collins tilts her head, a surprised look on her face. “How did you know I ran cross-country?”
“Even self-absorbed narcissists pay attention to other peoplesometimes, Monty.”
She rolls her eyes, but some surprise lingers in her expression.
“You already run my calendar. Just block off the next eighteen years.”
“Kit.”
“I don’t want an out, okay? Not now. Not ever. My parents had help, but I wasn’t raised by nannies. I know there’s a lot more to parenting than writing checks. Kids are expensive, so I’m telling you that you don’t need to stress about money. That doesn’t mean I won’t be there to watch Sesame break a leg as Hamlet. Although, hopefully, Dalton Academy will have moved on to a playwright other than Shakespeare by then.”
She tilts her head. “Sesame?”
“You’re about five weeks along, right? According to the Internet,that means our kid is about the size of a sesame seed.”
Collins glances down suddenly.
I watch as she swipes a hand beneath her left eye, then sniffs once.
“Sorry. Hormones. I just … I kinda figured I’d be doing this myself. Please don’t take that personally. I assumedanyguy would run in the opposite direction.”
“You don’t have a lot of faith in men, huh?”
I say it teasingly, but her reply is serious.
“No, I don’t.”
There’s weight—sadness—in those three words. About her ex? Or something else?
“Well, lucky for you, your taste has finally improved.”
She snorts, then reaches for another piece of bread. “Yeah, lucky. We won the surprise pregnancy lottery. Woo-hoo.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Monty,” I state. “And I can’t endorse my entire gender, but youcanrely on me.”
Collins chews, not appearing entirely convinced. I guess I should be grateful she’s not shaking her head in disagreement. Baby steps.
“Okay,” she finally says.
“Okay,” I echo.
I suppose agreeing on something is a good start to co-parenting.
22
“You ready?”
I glance up at Margot. She’s wearing a headband with bobbing pumpkins atop two antennas.