Page 37 of Rigid

He nodded his head toward me. “You want me to duck under your arm, or are you going to move?”

I released the door handle and stepped to the side. “Come in.”

He walked past me. With each step, the plastic bag swung wildly – a result of his bravado swagger. I looked him up and down as he sauntered toward the living room, wishing for that fleeting moment that everything was different between us, but knowing it never would be.

He sat down on the couch as if it was something he’d done a thousand times. He lifted the bag to his lap, and as he fumbled to get something from it, the girl in me interrupted his plan.

“What’s in the bag?”

He paused with his hand buried deep in the bag, and chuckled. “Couldn’t wait another fifteen seconds, could you?”

I sat down on the loveseat across from him. “No.”

He pulled out a book, stood, and extended his hand. “A book.”

Surprised, I reached for it nonetheless. “You brought me a book?”

“What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” he said. “Best book there is for a pregnant woman.”

It wasn’t at all what I expected. I figured he brought a sandwich, some bananas, or maybe an ice cream. A box of condoms as some sick joke seemed his speed, but not something motherly. I looked at the tattered cover, opened it, and quickly realized as I thumbed through the dog-eared and highlighted pages that the book was well-used.

I met his gaze, all the while struggling to contain my emotions. “Thank you.”

“I’d appreciate it if you take care of it.” He waved his hand toward the book. “It’s got sentimental value.”

“Was it yours?”

He relaxed into the seat and nodded a few times, lightly. “It is mine. I’m letting you read it.”

I felt offended and privileged at the same time. “Oh.”

“It was Christine’s.”

Great. He’d given me the book that his former skank had before she gave birth and then took off. I set it to the side, and then pushed it as far away as I could. “Uhhm. Thanks.”

He gazed down at his lap. While I prepared to begin what was sure to be a long conversation, he beat me to the punch.

“We’d read it every night. Probably read that damned thing half a dozen times if I read it once. I highlighted the important stuff, but don’t just read what I’ve got marked, it’s all useful.”

“She’s your ex? Christine?”

Still staring into his lap, he nodded. “Eddie’s mom. Yeah.”

“Where is she now?” I asked, my tone almost snide.

“She died.”

I seemed to do a pretty good job of making myself out to be an idiot in his presence. I cleared my throat, swallowed hard, and then offered an apology. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. I know at some point you’ll ask, and I don’t ever want it brought up in front of Eddie, so I’ll just tell you now.” He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “She died of a heroin overdose the day we got home from the hospital. She was clean the entire pregnancy, but didn’t last a day after Ed was born. Never did figure out where she got it, but it doesn’t matter much.” He shook his head, and then his eyes fell to his lap. “Addiction’s a bitch.”

I felt sick. “I thought. She uhhm. Wow. I’m sorry. Really.”

He shrugged, but didn’t speak.

“You said you had a daughter, right?”

He looked up. “Yeah. Her name’s Eddie.”