Weather Girl(63)

IT’S CERTAINLY AN experience, racing through downtown Seattle in the KSEA 6 van with my boss and her ex-husband. The contrast between the two of them is even more pronounced. For all her panic at the house, Torrance has become calm, while a frantic Seth white-knuckles the steering wheel, missing the exit for the hospital once before having to double back. When we get to the maternity ward, he dashes toward the front desk, Torrance and me trailing behind him.

“Roxanne Hale,” he says, nearly out of breath. “Where’s Roxanne Hale?”

“Dad?” A man who looks to be in his late twenties approaches, holding a bottle of water. “Hey, thanks so much for being here. They’re only letting me go back there right now. Her contractions are still about ten minutes apart.”

Patrick got his parents’ best features; it’s no shock that he’s as gorgeous as they are. Dark hair, trimmed beard, cheekbones so sharp they should come with a warning label.

Seth wraps an arm around his shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

“Oh, I’m doing okay. A bit frazzled, but overall okay. Roxanne’s the one who’s going through it.” His gaze lands on me, and I give him an awkward wave.

“Hi, um—congratulations! Or, almost congratulations. I was with your mom when she got the call, so . . .”

He grins, the same megawatt smile Torrance has honed for the cameras. “The more the merrier!” he says, and he exchanges a few more hugs with both his parents before he heads down the hall.

Seth only gets more antsy, pacing back and forth until watching him makes me dizzy. He buys exactly five things from the vending machine before it jams and then he spends a solid fifteen minutes tracking down someone who can fix it.

“Seth?” Torrance says sweetly, from where she’s sitting next to me. “Why don’t you go downstairs to the gift shop?”

“Excellent.” Seth bites into a Twizzler before tossing the wrapper in the trash. He already offered some to Torrance and me. “Great idea. I’ll be right back!”

“Take your time!” she calls after him, and once he disappears, she starts laughing. “He was like this when Patrick was born, too. More on edge than I was.”

I put down the Highlights magazine I’ve been paging through, having finished the Goofus and Gallant comic. Goofus is just as much of a little asshole as he always was. “I’ve never seen him like this, not even when we have breaking news. He’s always so composed at work.”

“It’s endearing, really.” Torrance pauses for a few moments, silently examining her manicure. “Patrick was a bit of a preemie, by four weeks, so I was in the hospital a little longer than expected. Everything was okay, and the doctors were amazing, but I was so ready to start nesting. When we brought Patrick home, I found that Seth had been spending all the time he wasn’t at the hospital in our kitchen making dinners. He’d had to buy an extra freezer because we didn’t have enough space—that’s how much he cooked so neither of us would have to worry about it.” She smiles at the memory, and maybe that version of Seth isn’t too different from the one I’ve gotten to know over the past couple months. “And he was a great dad. Is a great dad, I should say. I’ve always loved watching him as a father.”

It’s impossible not to think of Russell when she says that. I haven’t had a chance to process the longer-term implications of our relationship, if that is in fact what this is becoming. I’ve never dated a parent, and even though I want kids, I’m not sure I’m ready now. I’m probably overanalyzing, since I’ve only met her once, but the longer this goes on, the more I’ll have to reckon with what I am to Elodie—if I’m anything at all.

Then again, maybe he doesn’t want her to be involved. Even though he said back in Canada that he’d wanted me to meet her, that doesn’t mean the three of us are going to suddenly start spending time together.

Torrance’s phone buzzes again. “That’s my sister. Seems like this has made its way through the family grapevine. You don’t mind if I take this, do you?”

“Go ahead,” I say, and she leaves the maternity ward to answer the call.

Left alone, I consider the absurdity of the situation. I have no personal investment in this, aside from wanting the kid to be born healthy. And yet the fact that Torrance wanted me here compels me to stay.

You’ll never believe where I am, I text Russell.

    Back at the mall to challenge those kids at air hockey?



I send back the GIF of Torrance declining a joint at Hempfest and saying, “Maybe later.”

    At the hospital with the Hales. Their daughter-in-law just went into labor. And they’re . . . getting along?

You’re right. I don’t believe it.



I snap a photo of Highlights and send it to him. In response, he sends me a photo of a paused TV screen, and I have to bite my lip to keep from grinning. The Parent Trap.

    Movie night with E. It’s intermission right now because she insisted on making caramel popcorn. I’m waiting here until the smoke alarm goes off.

Does she love it?

So far, the verdict is there isn’t enough singing or dancing.

I’ll give her that. There isn’t.

And we’ve stopped it several times so she can learn the handshake. Honestly, I’m lucky she’s still at an age where watching movies with her dad isn’t deeply uncool yet. Not sure how much of that I have left.