Page 72 of Counting the Days

“Leave her alone—”

“Kai, your sister,now!”

“I’m taking a plate home for Greg—”

“Rhea, let’s exchange info—”

“Leave her alone, get her number from Dan—”

“K, I’m getting your number from Dan—”

“Love you, Dan—”

Danny shut the door behind them, closed his eyes, and sighed. “I understand if you never want to see me again.”

Rhea laughed. “I love them.”

“Theylovedyou.”

“That’s not possible. I didn’t say one word to them.”

“And you never will.”

Eventually, the last guest left. Rhea and Danny were finally alone. Rhea started gathering empty beer bottles; Danny walked up behind her and kissed her neck. She put the bottles down and leaned into his arms.

“All my friends really like you.”

“And I like them.”

“I really like you too.”

He lifted her hair, kissed her ears, and whispered, “I’ve been watching you in this dress all night and really could not wait for this thing to end.”

“Was that before or after my nipple fell out?”

“Before and after,” he said while kissing the side of her face.

“You know…You never gave me a tour of your house,” Rhea said suggestively.

“What do you wanna see?”

“Your…laundry room,” she said, and he laughed. “What? I’ve never had a laundry room, I wanna see how the other half lives.”

“Okay, we can arrange that…is there anything else you’d like to see?”

“Your…bedroom?”

“Good, let’s go there first.”

He took her hand and led her upstairs so they could go through all the delicious motions of making a baby…without actually making a baby.

180Days

Rhea Darby began spending mostof her time at Danny Beckett’s house. She got used to the post-work commute and was beginning to feel a little too at home in Pasadena.

Since taking a bath was her favorite activity and Danny had a bathtub the size of a kiddie pool, they began taking baths together regularly. Rhea watched Danny leaning back on his side of the tub with his eyes closed. Her love for him was so overwhelming, she wanted to hold his head under the water.

Her heart was wide open, but her throat was blocked. She needed to talk to him but could not find the right moment. She felt she had done everything she could to brighten the idea of parenting; now she needed to broach the subject and find out where his head was at, but every time she tried, her throat closed up.