Page 123 of The Merger

“I’m going to be a dad,” I whisper, brushing a lock of hair from Cary’s shoulder.

I watch her chest rise and fall as she slumbers peacefully. She’s young and beautiful. Her whole life is ahead of her, and instead of making any number of choices, she’s choosing me.

She’s willing to use her body to create a child for us.

Tears fill my eyes.

I don’t deserve her, nor do I deserve the gifts she’s giving me—the gift of her heart, and of family.Mom is going to be beside herself. I’m finally giving her a grandchild.

“I love you, Carys,” I whisper, wiping my face with the edge of the sheet.

She stirs, turning toward me, her eyes opening sleepily.

“Hey,” she says, struggling to waken. “Are you still up?”

“Yeah. Can’t sleep.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m almost afraid that if I go to sleep, I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream.”

She casts me a soft smile and snuggles up to me. “It’s not a dream. I promise. I still feel like I could puke.”

“Want a cracker?”

She laughs. “Do I want a cracker?”

“I’ve been reading tonight and learned that many women like to keep crackers by their beds. It’s helpful for nausea.”

“Good to know.” She slides a leg over mine. “What else did you learn?”

“All kinds of things. I made a list.”

“What’s on your list?”

“I have six doctors that we can look at tomorrow and you can see if you like any of them,” I say. “We’re going to need a crib. It’s important to keep blankets and stuffed animals out of there, and it can’t get set by a window blind with a pull cord.” I peer down at her. “Never look that up online. It’s terrifying and leads you down a rabbit hole that’s … Well, it’ll keep you up at night.”

“Okay.”

I pick up my legal pad. “Car seats face backward, which I didn’t know, and we need to check any chemicals you use for Plantcy to make sure they’re nontoxic.”

“Smart. I hadn’t thought of that.”

The next thing on the list is going to be a tough sell. I pause, contemplating a good angle of attack, but before I can come up with something, she points at my paper.

“Does that say Gremlin?” she asks.

Fuck. “Yes, it does.”

“Why?”

“I’ll buy you any car you want.Anything. But your Gremlin isn’t safe.”

“But I love my car.”

“There are no airbags, no antilock braking systems. I’m not saying we have to get rid of it.We can keep it. But I think for you and the baby, we need something more modern. Something safer. Like a tank.”

Her laugh sweeps through the room, making me smile.