’ I grabbed his hand and put it on my belly. I covered his hand with mine. We stood there for a minute, waiting. Finally, the baby kicked again. ‘...id you feel it?’ ‘Whoa, I think we have ourselves a football player in there!’ Matt beamed. ‘Just like his ol’ man.’ ‘And my dad!’ I added. ‘Yep, a little Matthew Joseph.’ ‘Oh Matt, I like that! Matthew Joseph. After you and dad.’ It was perfect. Matt agreed. Trying to hide my embarrassment, I said, ‘I guess we’ve accomplished one of the things on. I wondered if she were on her period. Many women get moody on their periods. I hoped that was the case. She hadn't said goodbye.You're being stupid, I told myself. The girl is 29. Half your age. Younger than your sons, barely older than your daughter. Imagine bringing her to Thanksgiving dinner.I found myself so depressed that I went for a walk. I kept remembering the way her breast had pushed against my arm--it had graduated from brushing to pushing--and the way I had reached out and steadied. More

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