“I know.”
From the living room, Amanda called, “Mom, Dad says newborns don’t need socks. Please explain civilization to him.”
Neither Andrew nor I answered.
She laughed again.
Andrew looked toward the sound.
“There’s more.”
“No.”
He turned back.
“What?”
“You don’t get to give me the favorable context first.”
“It’s not favorable.”
“Whatever your father did afterward, Amanda first.”
He understood.
“Why tonight?” I asked. “You’ve kept this secret through dating, marriage, and almost a year of waking up beside my daughter. Why is tonight suddenly unbearable?”
His eyes went to the booties again.
“Because she wants to name our baby after him.”
There it was.
Not illness.
Not recurrence.
A name.
“I can’t let her do that, Christie.”
The sentence bothered me before I even knew why.
Then I heard it.
“You can’t let her?”
Andrew stared at me.
“Christie, if she knew what Dad did…”
