The rocking chair was there. So was the blanket Ben had insisted on buying because he said our baby deserved one ridiculously soft thing.
My key wouldn’t turn.
“Ben!”
No answer.
My key wouldn’t turn.
I called him, and his phone rang somewhere inside.
Dad stepped beside me.
“Do you want me to knock?”
“No. If he can hear his phone, he can hear me. He just won’t face me.”
I picked up the diaper bag.
“Let’s go.”
“He just won’t face me.”
***
That night, I cried beside a sleeping Evie. I still loved Ben, but I knew he was hiding something enormous from me.
The morning after Ben threw us out, the doorbell rang while I was feeding Evie.
Mom started to rise.
“I’ll get it.”
“No. I need to.”
I carried Evie to the door.
Mom started to rise.
Ben and Diane stood outside, looking exhausted.
“Please,” he said. “Let us see Evelyn. This is very important. If we don’t, we’re finished.”
