The Things We Do for Love

"Good. "

Maria hugged them both, said good-bye, and left the house. Lauren went to the sink and started washing the dishes. Angie sidled up beside her. They washed and dried in the easy rhythm theyd created recently.

When the dishes were dried and put away, Angie said, "I need to run down to Help-Your-Neighbor House. I have a meeting with the director. The coat drive went so well, were trying to come up with another promotion. "

"Oh. "

Lauren stood there, drying her wet hands, as Angie hurried through the house and then left. The door slammed shut; in the yard, a car started up.

Lauren went to the window and stared out, watching Angie drive away. Behind her, the CD changed. Bruce Springsteens gravelly voice started up.

Baby, we were born to run . . .

She spun away from the window and ran for the stereo, clicking the music off hard. A sharp silence descended. It was so quiet that she thought she could hear the tapping of Conlans fingers on the laptop upstairs, but that was impossible.

She tried not to think about her mother, but now that was impossible, too.

"I thought kids your age loved the Boss," Conlan said from behind her.

She turned around slowly. "Hey," she said.

In the weeks since the wedding, Lauren had tried to keep her distance from Conlan. They lived in the same house, of course, so it wasnt easy. But she sensed a hesitation in him, an unwillingness to get to know her.

She kept her back to the window and stared at him, twisting her hands together nervously. "Angie went to town. Shell be back in a while. "

"I know. "

Of course she would have told her husband. Lauren felt like an idiot for having said anything.

Conlan crossed the room, came up closer. "Youre nervous around me. "

"Youre nervous around me. "

He smiled. "Touche. Im just worried, thats all. Angie is . . . fragile sometimes. She leads with her heart. "

"And you think Ill hurt her. "

"Not purposely, no. "

Lauren had no answer to that, so she changed the subject. "Do you want to be a father?"

Something passed through his eyes then, a sadness, maybe, that made her wish she hadnt asked the question. "Yes. "

They stared at each other. She saw the way he was trying to smile and it wounded her, made her feel closer to him. She knew about disappointment. "Im not like that other girl, you know. "

"I know. " He backed up, as if he wanted to put some distance between them, and sat down on the sofa.

She went to the coffee table and sat down on it. "What kind of father would you be?"

The question seemed to jolt him. He flinched, looked down at his hands. It took him a long time to answer, and when he finally did, his voice was soft. "There, I guess. I wouldnt miss a thing. Not a game, not a school play, not a dentist appointment. " He looked up. "Id take her--or him--to the park and the beach and the movies. "

Laurens breath caught in her throat. Longing tightened her chest. She hadnt realized until just then, with that quietly spoken answer, that what shed really been asking was: What does a father do?

He looked at her, and in his eyes, she saw that sadness again, and a new understanding.

She felt transparent suddenly, vulnerable. She stood up. "I guess Ill go read. I just started the new Stephen King book. "

"We could go to the movies," he said gently. "To Have and Have Not is playing downtown. "