The Knocked Up Plan(19)

“It’s him,” I whisper reverently.

My mom’s hazel eyes sparkle, and she claps in excitement. Any annoyance I felt is erased by her reaction. She’s in this with me, and I won’t be able to do it without her.

With nervous fingers, I click on the message.

Are you free tonight?





Ten





Ryder

Simone drops my hand and scurries toward a table strewn with paint jars, brushes, and mini easels. Her class starts in two minutes. The nine-year-old skids, pivots, and rushes back to me. She throws her arms around my waist. “Thank you for taking me. I’ll make a Picasso now.”

I ruffle her hair. “Of course you will. His blue period was the best.”

“Do you want a painting of a blue horse for your kitchen, then?”

She’s obsessed with horses and with painting. “Let me tell you a secret,” I whisper. “I’ve been hoping for a blue horse for a long, long time.”

A huge smile spreads across her face. A front tooth is missing. “Then you should have a blue horse. You should always get what you want.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of what they teach you in school? You get what you get, and you don’t have a fit?”

“I think you should get what you want. I should get what I want, too. And I would love for us to have an ice cream sundae after class. If I paint you a blue horse, can I have an ice cream sundae? I mean, can we split one?”

“Ah,” I say, stroking my chin. “Now that I understand you’re only thinking of my ice cream needs, I’ll consider it. But do you really think your daddy will be okay with that?”

“Which daddy?” She points at me. “If it’s your brother, my daddy, no. But if it’s my other dad, yes.”

“Too bad it’s my brother, your daddy, who’s picking you up when he finishes his workout.” Devon’s partner is working all weekend on a big case, so Devon’s single parenting today.

“Uncle Ryder,” she says, grabbing my arm. “You have to convince him. What if we skipped class so we can get ice cream?” She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, knowing my brother is a health nut.

“We would be in so much trouble.”

“You can’t get in trouble with your own brother.”

“Have you met your father? He would be furious. Plus, you love class. Go paint. I’m going to think deep thoughts somewhere in this store.”

She laughs and spins around, her silky hair like a dark flag trailing behind her as she runs the final few feet to the table and plops herself in a chair.

Her class is only thirty minutes, and even though I’m not artsy, there’s something irresistible about perusing the shelves at this shop. The hip notebooks. The freshly sharpened pencils. The soft bristles of paintbrushes. They whisper of creativity and ideas. I amble through the aisles then stop at the recycled paper notebooks when I spot a collection with cats and dogs in spacesuits on the front covers. The images are familiar. I furrow my brow, then I remember.

Nicole’s notebook that she carries around at work has astronaut dogs on it. The woman hasn’t been far from my mind over the last few days. I pick up the notebook and flip through the blank pages as if I’ll find the answer to her question in there. I’ve thought of little else since she asked me. I promised myself I’d make a decision today, so I texted her an hour ago to ask if she’s free tonight. Whether I’m in or out, I want to give her the courtesy of a decision sooner than later.

The question remains, though—am I in?

I swing my gaze to the art class in the corner, staring at Simone, her long brown hair spilling down her back. The tips of her hair are blue. She asked Devon and Paul if she could dye it. They said if she learned the names of the most famous artists and their most famous works, they’d take her to a salon for a proper blue-ing.

That girl is such a source of joy in their life. She’s sunshine. She’s happiness. And she came from a choice—a choice to open their home to a child who needed one.

I have the power to make that choice for Nicole. I rest my hand against a shelf and stare at the back of Simone’s head till my niece is a blur, and my gaze is elsewhere. It’s on the future. The weight of the request.

It’s awesome and scary. What if I make the wrong choice like I did by marrying Maggie? That decision to mingle my life with Maggie’s seemed so right at the time. What if I choose badly again, even if the decision feels like the right one now?

I set down the notebook and noodle on all the possibilities until my brother texts, asking if I mind if he stays another thirty minutes to lift weights.



* * *



Ryder: You need it, you scrawny bastard. No problem.



* * *



He responds with a raised middle finger emoticon.

When class ends, I inform Simone she’s getting her wish for ice cream. She beams and tells me my wish for a blue horse has come true, and she’ll finish the painting in the next class.

After a chocolate-sauce-drenched sundae, we meet up with my brother outside his building. His dark hair is sweat slicked, and he’s a few inches shorter than me, but still a handsome devil. He’s also ridiculously fit and muscular. Simone gives him a big hug.

“Hey, honey bun, can you head inside? Daddy will meet you upstairs.”