Love Lessons

Chapter Nine Lemon

Chapter Nine Lemon

Valerie

“Miss... Miss.” Lauren raised her hand up in the air desperately. Andrew was in the middle of a math lesson, but the girl

was coming out of her seat trying to get Valerie’s attention.

Usually, the biggest personal issue that occurred in kindergarten was an emergency bathroom situation, which Valerie was used

to.

“Yes, Lauren?”

Lauren turned to look behind her and then back at Valerie. “Ms. Valerie, Simon is missing.”

Simon? Oh crap! The hamster! Valerie quickly stood up, and Andrew followed. So did the entire class. Garfunkel was in his

hamster wheel spinning away. “I’m sure he’s in one of the tubes,” Andrew said, looking around while the rest of the class

and Valerie looked carefully at the cage. It was a big cage, taking up a large portion of the back of the classroom, but it

wasn’t so big that a hamster would go missing, and the tubes, although colorful, were clear.

Simon was indeed missing.

This was not good.

“He has to be in here somewhere,” Valerie said. “Everyone spread out and let’s look for him.”

“Great,” Andrew said sarcastically, exiting out of the math portal on the smartboard. “Who needs math when there is a hamster

on the loose.”

For the final two hours of class, all of them searched for Simon. He was nowhere to be found, and the children’s moods changed.

“Maybe he wanted to walk around the park,” Morgan said.

“And then an alligator ate him,” Johnny replied, which caused an audible gasp from half the class.

“My fish Willy died and my daddy bought a new one. We can just buy a new Simon,” Theo said.

“My cat died last year,” Sophia R. said.

“My dog died one time,” Abigail said sadly, still on her hands and knees looking under the desks.

“My grandma died,” Fernando added.

“That’s not true. Grandmas don’t die, they go on vacations to Canada. My grandma’s in Canada. We can’t visit her ever again

because Canada is on another planet and you need a passport, but she sends emails,” Georgianna said in one long breath.

Andrew and Valerie stopped and looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“Jesus,” Andrew whispered to her. “This is the biggest clusterfuck ever.”

Indeed. “Settle down, class,” Valerie said, clapping to get the children’s attention. “The bell’s about to ring. Tomorrow’s a new day. I’m sure Simon just went for a little stroll and he’ll be back before we know it. Go grab your book bags and line up for dismissal. Don’t forget your lunch boxes.”

A few minutes later the bell rang, and parents began to walk inside to collect their children. Valerie’s eyes did not leave

the door, just in case Simon tried to make a great escape.

When the children were all gone, Andrew turned to her. “So what now? What’s your big plan, Marquez?”

“He’s not dead, otherwise we would have found him. I’m sure he’ll show up sooner or later.”

“Meanwhile we need to deal with children who are more preoccupied with an escaped hamster than their education. This is why

your mishmash teaching doesn’t work for me. I don’t see any point in any of this.”

Of course, Wexler was back. For a moment, she’d thought she’d gotten to know him better. She thought he understood her. To

call her teaching methods a mishmash was a personal afront to her, because teaching was her calling. It wasn’t just a job

for her. “Why did I think you had changed?” she yelled, and the hurt was clear in the way her voice cracked. She hated that

he’d gotten to her.

“Well, I’m sorry I said that,” he said, and in his defense, he did seem sorry, but then he screwed up some more. “But it’s

dumb, Valerie. This hamster thing is a distraction, and there’s too much going on right now to have to start looking for a

stupid rodent. And the kids will be heartbroken if we don’t find it so... ugh,” he said, as he pushed the tables around

to see if he could find Simon.

It was a punch in the gut, but she reined in her emotions as best she could. She was only sensitive right now because she was pregnant and hormonal; otherwise this wouldn’t have gotten under her skin this much. Right? Non-pregnant Valerie wouldn’t have needed to hold back tears. She would have gone out and purchased a ferret and a parrot

just to piss Wexler off more. “The point is to teach compassion and responsibility,” she said. “The only way Simon could have

escaped is if someone left the cage door open. This will definitely teach them responsibility.”

“While they cry themselves to sleep because their pet’s missing?”

“Things don’t always work out, Wexler. That’s life. And without having to throw it in their faces, they’re going to learn

that. There will be disappointment, and if Simon reappears, there’ll be joy.”

“Just buy a replacement furball so we can get back to teaching tomorrow.”

“Absolutely not! Did you not listen to what I said? There’s a lesson in this. Kids are resilient.” Why couldn’t he understand?

This was important to her; it wasn’t just about a silly pet.

“Yeah, yeah. Worst-case scenario, we’ll tell them Simon’s on Planet Canada with Georgianna’s grandma.”

She rolled her eyes. They really were polar opposites. Andrew grabbed his stuff, saying, “I’m trying to understand you, Marquez.

Sometimes it’s harder than others. But I’m trying.” His voice was softer now.

“This is you trying?”

“Yes. No. I dunno. I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated with the kids, and now I’m worried about the freakin’ hamster.”

She thawed. She needed to understand him too, she realized. He wasn’t coming from a bad place, just voicing his frustration

poorly.

“Anyway, I’m headed out. I have a lot to work on at the house. You good?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m leaving in a few minutes too. Have a good night. Don’t forget we have the ob-gyn tomorrow after school.”

“I haven’t forgotten. G’night, baby mama.”

Once Andrew left, Valerie spent the next three hours scouring the entire school for the damn hamster. By the time she got

home, she was exhausted. Plus, the five flights of stairs were really starting to get to her, although she would never admit

that to anyone. Knowing Andrew, he’d convince her to move in with him or something crazy like that.

Andrew

Andrew almost threw up. He needed to be strong for her, but it wasn’t working. The ob-gyn appointment was this afternoon,

and all he could think about was how many things could possibly go wrong. The baby could be sick or have a problem. Valerie

could also have a problem. He felt out of control, because he couldn’t control any of it. He’d barked at everyone the past

two days who came within two feet of him.

By the time the bell rang, he was vibrating with anxiety. “Dude, relax,” she actually said at some point on the drive over.

Dude? Relax? Was this woman for real? There was a baby inside her body, and they were about to see it for the first time.

“You haven’t said a word since we left school,” she said. She was in a gown and sat on a bed with stirrups, her legs dangling

down while they waited for the doctor. For obvious reasons, he’d never been inside one of these places. He didn’t like it.

The lighting was yellowish, the temperature was cold, and it smelled like cleaning products and antiseptic.

“You don’t have to stay in the room if you don’t want to. It’s weird, I know,” Valerie said.

“I’m good” was all he could say. He wanted to be supportive, but he felt trapped by his emotions and couldn’t voice what he

felt. His hands were clammy, and he felt his lunch move up his throat. What if she was no longer pregnant? What if it had

all been a dream?

What if? What if? What if?

“Stop touching everything,” Valerie whisper-yelled. He hadn’t even noticed he’d been fumbling around the room.

“What the hell is this?” he said as he put down a huge stick thing.

“That’s for a transvaginal ultrasound.”

“A what?”

“That goes up a woman’s vagina for an internal ultrasound.”

Now he really was going to vomit. Was he about to witness a doctor stick that enormous tool into her? It was huge !

She actually had the audacity to laugh out loud. “Calm down. I’m too far along for that. I think. I mean, I’m like ninety-nine

point nine percent sure it’s not going to be necessary. Oh crap, what if—”

The knock on the exam room door startled him, and he abruptly stepped away from the enormous contraption that would or would not be inserted into his baby mama in a few minutes.

“Valerie, hello.” The doctor shook her hand.

“You must be Dad. I’m Dr. Bakshi.” She took Andrew’s extended hand and shook it. “Why don’t you have a seat?” she said to

Andrew, motioning to a chair. “How have you been feeling?” she asked.

“I’m a little nervous. A lot of anxiety. I mean, that thing is huge,” Andrew said, pointing to the wand.

The doctor chuckled.

“She was talking to me, Wexler,” Valerie said.

“And we will not use that today. It looks like you’re almost through your first trimester,” she said while she looked through

the chart. Andrew was relieved. “So, how are you feeling, Mom?” She said “mom” very pointedly.

“Not great. Very nauseous, although I’m eating more now.”

“Morning sickness can be hell. Is it all day? Are you throwing up?”

“No, I’m not throwing up anymore. I’m just not in the mood to eat.”

“She’s also very tired, all the time,” Andrew added.

“That’s all very normal in the first trimester. But let’s monitor it. If you’re able to keep food down, then I may hold off

on medication. I think it’ll subside soon, but I don’t want you to be so nauseous that you stop eating.”

“I’ve gotten my appetite back this past week. I’ve been eating a little more.”

“Good,” the doctor said, making notes at the same time. “You’ve gained a pound and a half since I last saw you. It’s not much, but at least you’re not losing weight. I’d like to see a little more weight gain. If the nausea doesn’t improve by your next visit, or if it gets worse, then I’ll prescribe you something.” She continued to look through the chart. “By your calculations, you’re about fourteen weeks or so. Hmm...” the doctor said as she read something.

“What is that ‘hmm’?” Valerie asked, and Andrew instinctively reached for her hand. She squeezed his back.

“It’s not anything alarming, but I don’t love your blood pressure.” The doctor rolled her chair to the corner and took a cuff

from the wall. “Sometimes those automated things are off. Let’s check you the old-fashioned way, shall we?” She slid the cuff

around Valerie’s arm and pumped it while listening through her stethoscope.

There was so much silence in the room, you could hear a pin drop. The doctor pumped and pumped while looking at the round

dial. Then released the pressure. Andrew’s heart lurched when he saw the worry on Valerie’s face. “Okay, it’s elevated, but

just a little. Watch your sodium intake and we’ll keep monitoring it.”

“Okay. There’s a lot to monitor, huh?” Valerie said with a nervous laugh. Andrew felt her fear right in his bones. He squeezed

her hand.

“There’s a lot going on—you’re baking a whole new human in there. But so far everything is fine. I just want to make sure

everything stays fine.”

Valerie nodded.

The doctor pulled the ultrasound machine closer. “Okay, let’s take a look at the baby, shall we?”

He was literally shaking with raw nerves. The doctor squirted gel onto Valerie’s belly. Andrew hadn’t seen her naked belly

since that night. The night. When all this happened. The reason they were now in this room.

The doctor had turned down the lights, and there was mostly silence from everyone as she played with some knobs on the black-and-white

computer screen. The doctor pushed the transducer down on Valerie’s belly, and then a weird whomp whomp started to reverberate throughout the room.

“There we go,” she said, and started zooming in on the screen and doing more twists and turns of the knobs and placing lines

and arrows in different areas. “It’s still early, but if you look, this is a little hand right here,” she said, pointing to

the screen. “Good strong heartbeat.”

“That’s his heart?” Andrew asked, his voice coming out choked.

Valerie looked up, her eyes also glazed over, and she squeezed his hand. He’d never heard a more beautiful sound.

“It’s so tiny,” Valerie said, looking at the monitor.

“It’s still early, but he’s measuring correctly,” the doctor said, and continued to do whatever it was she was doing on the screen. “Okay, Mom, I’m done,” she said, and wiped Valerie’s belly. “I’ll leave you to clean up and get dressed. I’d like to see you back in about six weeks, and we should be able to see the sex by then. Make sure you’re taking the prenatal vitamins. I’d recommend getting one of those blood pressure machines for home and keeping track. If it ever gets higher than one forty over ninety, call me immediately. Make sure she watches that salt intake, Dad.” Dr. Bakshi looked at Andrew, who nodded, and then she handed him the sonogram photos and a pamphlet on low-sodium diets.

Once the doctor left, Andrew helped Valerie sit up. “You want me to step out?”

“Nah, just turn around for a second, please,” she said, and he did what he was told, looking down at the black-and-white photos

in his hand. “I can’t believe we’re having a baby. I mean, I knew it. I’ve known it. We’ve talked about it. But it still feels

surreal.”

“It’s wild. I don’t know if it’ll ever not feel strange. I can’t believe we heard the baby’s heartbeat.”

“I guess I’m going to have to cool it with the saltine crackers,” she said.

“Yep,” he said as she touched his arm.

“Okay. Ready to go?”

He opened the door for her, and they walked together to the receptionist, where Valerie scheduled the next appointment and

paid her co-pay.

“I want to help, Val.” Reaching for his wallet, he immediately corrected himself. They weren’t on a nickname basis. “Valerie.

Marquez.”

She laughed. “You did. You gave me emotional support.”

“I could buy you a golden retriever for that. That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I don’t need financial help. Not now, at least. I’m good, Wexler, really. If we start keeping tabs of the little expenses,

it gets petty. Do I need to pay half the gas because you drove?”

“Of course not.”

“Then don’t worry about the co-pay. If I need help, I’ll tell you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

They walked together to his car. She was still looking at the sonogram. “You should send these to your mom. She’ll enjoy it.”

It brought him a stupid amount of joy to know that she had thought of his mother. “Yeah, she will. Good idea.”

When they were in the car, Valerie took photos of the sonogram with her phone. “What’s her number? I’ll text them to her.

Does she text?”

“More or less.” He laughed and then gave her the phone number. “Your car is still at the school. Do you want to grab some

dinner before I drop you off?”

“I think going out to dinner is not a good idea if I have to watch my sodium intake. I should do groceries on my way home.

Looks like I’m going to have to do some cooking.”

“What are you in the mood for? I’ll make it for you.”

“Nothing, really.”

“How about this? We go do groceries together, and maybe something will inspire you.”

“I can do that,” she agreed.

Andrew drove them to Whole Foods, determined to buy all organic, sodium-free health food. Quickly, he learned that this was

going to be a looong pregnancy.

“Yuck. I’m not eating that,” she said when he started filling up the cart with fresh vegetables. “I mean, I’ll eat some of

it, some of the time, but you’re buying too much.”

He followed her to the chips aisle, where she grabbed bag after bag, turning each one around to read the nutrition label. “There have to be salt-free chips.”

“You have the eating habits of a ten-year old, Marquez,” he said, taking the Goldfish crackers from the cart.

“Those say low sodium.” She pouted.

“Compared to what?” He pulled out the low-sodium-diet pamphlet the doctor had given them. “Nothing in this aisle is on the

list.”

She grabbed the pamphlet from his hand and looked through it. “It’s obviously just a suggestion. My blood pressure was just

a tiny bit elevated. I’m sure if I cut back a little, drink more water, do some exercise, I’ll be fine.”

She tossed items into the basket, and Andrew removed them. This went on for far too long, and he was getting impatient. “Stop.

Just stop,” he said. “We should’ve thought this through more. Let’s just grab some staples and some food for tonight, and

we’ll make a list together later.”

“Together? Really? Because you get to eat all the Doritos and pretzels you want while I have to eat, what”—she reached into

the basket and grabbed the first thing she found—“kale? Fucking kale.”

“You cursed,” he gasped.

“Well... I’m that unhappy about the potato chip situation.”

He took the offending kale out of her hand and placed it gently back in the cart, then put his hands on her shoulders. “How

about spaghetti?”

“Har-har,” she said, irritable, and reached for a nearby can of tomato sauce. “Look, one billion grams of sodium.”

“The can, yes. Homemade, no. I’ll make it, and that way I can control the sodium.”

“You will?” she said, seeming hopeful. “Can we have garlic bread too?”

“We can. How about we make it Bolognese. Protein will do you good.”

She nodded. “And key lime pie for dessert?”

He chuckled. “That will have to be purchased, because I cannot bake.”

She rubbed her belly and looked as if she was thinking. “Yeah. Yeah. I can do that. Junior seems happy with that.”

“Okay, good.” He chuckled. When they purchased the ingredients, he insisted on paying, and she let him on the condition that

he cook at her house because she “had to have a shower” immediately because she felt “the germs from the doctor’s office crawling

all over” her. So they went back to the school to get her car, and he followed her to her building.

Valerie was winded by the time she unlocked the front door of her apartment. Andrew had refused to let her carry any of the

bags, so he was pretty winded himself. “How is there not an elevator?”

“Old building,” she said. “Put it all here.” She patted the kitchen counter.

He did as she said. “Go shower, and I’ll put things away and start on dinner.”

“Let me help.”

“What about the germs?” he said, and that got an immediate reaction from her. She started to scratch her arms.

“Ugh... yeah. I need a shower. Just... I don’t know, make yourself at home.”

While Valerie showered, Andrew unloaded all the bags. How would she possibly carry a baby up the stairs with a purse, a stroller,

groceries, and who knew what else? He didn’t think it would be possible. Not to mention, where would she even put a crib?

He walked around her apartment and tried to picture it with a baby. It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t. This was not conducive

to being excited about bringing home a baby. There’d be no nesting in this four-by-four space full to the brim with knickknacks.

“What are you machinating?” Valerie said from the doorway of her room. Her head was tilted to the side as she used a towel

to dry her hair. She looked fresh and glowy from the shower, and the smell of lavender wafted with the steam from the bathroom.

He averted his eyes.

“I was just wondering where you’d put a crib.”

She leaned a hip against the doorframe. “In my room, I suppose. I would need to move eventually. I know this place is too

small.”

“And very inconvenient. How are you going to get up the stairs with a baby and all the shit that babies need?”

“It’s not like I planned on getting pregnant when I moved in here, Wexler.”

“My place is big enough. You should move in.” He said it without much thought and immediately regretted it. The woman did

not do well with demands or with pity, and it had inadvertently come out that way.

“Have you lost your—”

“Wait.” He held out a hand. “That didn’t come out the way I meant for it to come out. I have space. It’s our baby. My house

is comfortable. Just think about it. There’s time.”

“Andrew—”

“Nope,” he said, cutting her off. “Forget I said anything. It’s just something to think about. No need to answer now. But

if you do decide on it, we’ll make it work.”

“Live together? Really?” She guffawed.

“Yeah, platonically, of course. People have roommates. It doesn’t have to be weird.”

“Ha! Everything about this is weird, Wexler. Everything.”

He chuckled, because she was right. It was an awkward situation, but it wasn’t the end of the world either. People had babies

all the time. The two of them weren’t the first or the last to have a baby and not be together. Regardless, it wasn’t the

right time to bring up her moving. They weren’t at that place.

But he had faith that they’d get there. He just had to keep trying to be there for her and showing her that he wasn’t going

anywhere.

Valerie

She’d just lied.

Having a baby with Andrew Wexler was weird, but for some reason Andrew Wexler rummaging around in her kitchen, cooking for

her, being in her space, did not feel weird. It felt unusually normal, actually.

She’d gone back into her room to finish drying her hair. It had grown a little; she needed to find a hair salon in town to cut it even shorter than she had in Haiti.

After a day of teaching and then being at the doctor, she’d felt grimy, and she had scrubbed her skin almost raw. This obsession

had begun about three weeks ago, and it must’ve been pregnancy related. Just like how some of her favorite foods and smells

now made her gag, she constantly felt sweaty and icky and was taking more showers than ever. The thought of having to deal

with long hair made her steadfast in her decision to find a stylist, as soon as possible.

Andrew had been so great today, and it was becoming hard not to blur the lines of their relationship. He was her baby daddy,

not her boyfriend. Hell, he was barely even her friend. This was all for Junior’s sake, not for hers. But she could see a

future in which they could be friends and co-parents. With her hair wrapped in a towel and a robe over her pajamas, she stepped

out of her bedroom. He had on earbuds and didn’t see her walk into the room. She wondered what he was listening to.

Her musical tastes ranged from classical to pop, rap to metal. She loved all music. He, on the other hand, seemed so dry.

But that was the preconceived notion she’d had of Wexler, and she’d been learning that he wasn’t quite as stuffy as she had

originally thought. Regardless, she couldn’t even begin to fathom what song he was cooking to.

As she approached, he turned. His eyes roamed her body, and she felt it from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

But with the same speed, he looked away.

She reached across the kitchen counter and plucked an earbud out and placed it by her ear. “What the heck?” It wasn’t music. It was a man... talking slowly and dully. Andrew took the earbud from her hand and then took off the other one and placed them both in his pocket. “It’s Audible.”

“You’re listening to an audiobook while you cook? Boooring...” This just cemented the fact that they were opposites. Attraction

be damned, they would never work out romantically.

“It’s a baby book, if you must know. Junior is the size of a lemon.”

And then the thought of compatibility or lack thereof flew out the window. The fact that he was listening to a baby book made

her heart flutter. How sexy was that? She cleared her throat and then gestured toward the stove.

“It’s almost ready. Are you actually hungry?” he asked.

Except for the lentils and the lasagna, she was still barely eating. It had been weeks since she’d felt actual hunger. “I’m

not not hungry.” She knew she was being difficult, but her body was out of control, and in the driver’s seat was a lemon, apparently.

He scooped some sauce into a spoon, cupped his palm under it, blew on it, and brought it to her lips. “How’s it taste?” She

let him guide the spoon into her mouth.

“It needs salt,” she said. She’d never realized how much salt she ingested until now.

“Other than that?”

“It’s pretty good.”

“Spaghetti is almost done,” he said, stirring the sauce and adding more herbs to hide the lack of salt. “What do you normally

do in the evenings?”

“Depends. Sometimes I lay down on the couch and watch TV. Other times, I fool around with the piano or guitar.”

“That’s amazing, you know. That you can play so many instruments. Can you play something for me?”

“Like what? What would you like to hear?”

“Anything. What’s your favorite?” he asked.

She sat in front of her keyboard and started playing the theme song from the Rocky movies.

He laughed.

Then she played the intro to Star Wars .

“I know you know other songs,” he said.

“Of course, but I don’t know what... Oh, I know.”

A familiar chord, then a pause, then another chord. There was a break, and then the song started in earnest. “?‘Bennie and

the Jets,’?” he said. “One of my favorites.”

“Is it? Really?” she said, as her fingers moved quickly over the keys without her even looking. It truly was amazing. “Sing

it with me.”

“?‘B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets,’?” she sang.

“I can’t sing,” he said.

“Neither can I. Didn’t you just hear? Don’t take yourself so seriously, Wexler. Come on... You know you read it in a magazine...

‘oh, B-B-Bennie...’?”

From the kitchen, she watched him pour the boiling water out of a pot and hum. He was beet red and looked like he was going to run right out of the kitchen, the apartment, her life. She didn’t want to laugh, but it was so endearing. So as not to embarrass him more, she closed her eyes as she sang. She knew she was out of tune, but she did not care one single bit. She opened her eyes when he said, “I hope our son gets your musical talent, but not your singing voice.”

She leaned back and laughed heartily.

“Where are the plates?” he asked.

She pointed to a cupboard, pushed off the chair, and turned off the keyboard. He set the table for both of them and then served.

Surprisingly, she ate more than she’d eaten in a while. It wasn’t the best food she’d ever had, but it wasn’t bad.

“I’m sure we can find some sodium substitutes,” he said between bites.

“And wine substitute? And coffee?”

He chuckled. “You can have a glass of wine now and again. Same with coffee.”

“Is that in your book?” she asked.

“It is,” he replied cheekily.

They talked about everything while they ate: a little pizza place his parents used to take him to that wasn’t far from her

house growing up. She used to go there with her parents all the time. “I wonder if we were ever there at the same time,” she

said. She told him more about her childhood, about when her parents were married and how her obsession with the Dolphins came

to be. “I hope you know that when the Dolphins play, I’m out of commission. If I go into labor on a football night, this kid

may have to stay inside,” she said.

“You do know the Dolphins may very well be the worst team in the NFL, right? Aside from that one season, they suck, Marquez.”

“Clearly, you don’t know anything about football. They’re the only team that have had a perfect season. Perfect, Wexler. Perfect.”

“Uh... that was in the seventies.”

“So? It hasn’t been replicated by any other team. Plus, they had some amazing seasons in the eighties and even made it to

the Super Bowl. I am not a bandwagon fan. They’re going to make a comeback, Wexler.”

He laughed. “They will never make it to the Super Bowl.”

She stuck out her tongue at him. “That’s blasphemous talk,” she said.

“Any thoughts on names for the baby?” he asked.

“Axel’s been sticking out, but I think I’d like to wait until I meet him to decide.”

“Axel? Axel Wexler? Jesus, that’s too many x ’s in one name.”

“In my mind, it was Axel Marquez.”

She may as well have struck him. He swallowed and looked both embarrassed at his own presumption and devastated.

“Well.” He coughed and smiled the fakest smile she’d ever seen on any human being. “Axel Marquez sounds just as bad. The z and q and x ... too many weird letters.”

He looked down at his plate. Seeing all the emotions play out across his face hurt her. He’d been wonderful, and he had been

so excited about being a father, from the very beginning. It was as if she had taken all the wind out of his sails, and she

didn’t like how that made her feel. She was feeling very protective over his emotions suddenly.

“I mean, I didn’t think about Wexler or Marquez, if I’m being honest. Is the last name a very important thing for you?”

“I would love for my son to have my last name, but I also don’t want to overstep, so I’m cool either way.”

But he hadn’t looked up; he wasn’t “cool” either way. He was a good man, and he’d pretend to be “cool,” but he hated the idea—that

much was obvious. She thought he’d bleed from the way he was clamping down so hard with his jaw.

“I can live with Wexler,” she said, and he looked up, eyes round.

“Really?”

She nodded. “Yes. Really. Axel Wexler.” But as she said it, she could see how all those x ’s together sounded. “Okay, not Axel,” she said, and laughed. “Bring on some suggestions, then. I’m open.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it.”

After they finished eating, he washed everything, even though she tried to help. Since he refused, she settled into her sofa

feeling sated and tired.

“Xavier?” she said, scrolling through her phone.

“Do we need the extra x ? Are you looking for that in a name?”

“No,” she said, and chuckled. “I’ve always liked Axel and Xavier.”

“Justin?” Andrew said, and Valerie shook her head.

When he finished, he turned off the light in the kitchen. “All done. You need anything before I go?”

“I’m good,” she said with a yawn.

He kissed the top of her head and grabbed his keys and wallet from the table. It was sweet, and it felt right. It was something she wanted him to do more often, actually. There was a lump in the back of her throat. She almost threw her hands around him and hugged him tightly.

“Hey, Andrew?” she said as he started to walk out the door. He looked back expectantly. “Thank you. For everything.”

He smiled widely and left. She fell asleep that night right where he’d left her. Tucked underneath a fluffy blanket, her legs

sunk into the cushions of the couch, mindless reality television playing, thinking that if she had one goal, it would be to

get Andrew Wexler to sing out loud.

She could still feel his lips on the top of her head. Such a chaste yet intimate thing for him to have done.

She slept better than she had in a long time.