Neighborly(79)

Nolan is watching her and Fisher with that same granite expression. For a second, I think that he could be capable of anything. He’s that angry with her. He’s not the type to allow himself to be cuckolded, not after all he’s overcome in his life.

Nolan approaches Kat and pecks her on the cheek. “I’m so glad that Sadie’s better,” he says. I realize that he hasn’t looked at Doug at all, which seems more intense than if they’d been locked in a stare-down. He reaches into the area beneath the stroller seat and brings out a grocery bag. “I brought dinner for everyone. Are you hungry?”

“I forgot to eat lunch,” Kat says, as if she’s just become aware of the existence of this thing we call food. “We were waiting for them to come and move Sadie, and then we waited some more, and now . . .” It’s four thirty. “So yes, I’m hungry. Thank you.”

Doug approaches Nolan and claps him on the shoulder in manly appreciation. “You’re awesome, thanks.”

Nolan just starts laying out the food like Doug hasn’t even spoken.

Taking in Nolan’s demeanor, it’s clear that he believes something really is going on under his nose. I want Kat to think it’s true; I don’t want it to actually be true. Nolan loves Andie so much. He’d be destroyed.

Doug fixes a plate and then brings it over to Kat in an attempt to prove he’s a nice guy. Well, wrong room, buddy. Neither Nolan nor I are buying it. But Andie might be, and she could be his actual target audience.

Kat takes the plate without a word. That’s a good sign, from where I’m sitting. She’s picking up on what’s going on between Nolan and Andie, too, which validates my story. I had to tell a few lies in the texts about how everyone knows about Kat and Wyatt and about Andie and Doug, but it’s for a good cause.

Nolan says to Andie gruffly, “Who’s eating first?” Then, to no one in particular, “Eating in shifts. You know how it is.”

“You eat first,” Andie says. She’s on her feet, dancing with Fisher, moving him toward Sadie’s crib. “See, it’s Sadie. You know Sadie. She’s starting to feel better.” Fisher stares down at Sadie, and his fussing ceases. It occurs to me that it’s not very wise to bring their baby into a hospital. The place is a giant petri dish. Either Nolan is oblivious to that or too angry with Andie to care.

Nolan sits with his plate on his lap, watching Andie and Fisher with little expression. “This is good,” I tell him, the mashed potatoes melting away on my tongue, and he registers it with the briefest of smiles.

Andie gives him a sudden sharp look, at odds with the sweetly maternal tone she’s been using on Fisher. “Hurry up and eat,” she says. “I’m starving.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me to take Fisher first?” Nolan stands up and storms over to her. I flinch. I feel like I’m watching the homecoming queen and the captain of the football team devolve into domestic violence. Doug must have the same thought because he half rises, like he’s going to intercede if anything dicey happens. So chivalry is not dead; it’s just displaced, onto the other woman.

Nolan maneuvers so that he takes Fisher from her and simultaneously thrusts his plate into her hand. “Here. Eat,” he commands over Fisher’s crying.

“Give him back to me,” Andie says. “He’s calm with me.”

“But you’re starving, remember?”

Andie glares at him and then takes a seat, rapidly shoveling forkfuls into her mouth. I’ve never seen anything like this between them.

So it must be true. Andie really is sleeping with Doug.

I’m angry on Nolan’s behalf. There are men who deserve that, but he’s not one of them.

Nolan is normally a good dad, but right then, he’s terrible at soothing Fisher. He’s rocking him and patting him on the back, talking in a higher register, repeating a lot of the same things Andie said but to the opposite effect. He’s getting increasingly frustrated, and then it seems like the rocking is a little too much like shaking and I’m afraid, because who doesn’t realize that you never shake a baby? Even though I’m definitely on Team Nolan rather than Team Andie, I’m glad when Andie takes Fisher back.

I can’t take the tension another second. “Let’s get out of here,” I say to Kat, who’s also shoveled in all her food.

“But . . .” Kat looks around, like she shouldn’t leave Nolan, Andie, and Doug alone, and then it seems like she gets my meaning: We should absolutely leave them alone. Let Nolan take care of whatever’s going on between Andie and Doug.

She follows me up the hall. There’s an alcove with some seats in it, the walls painted in a woodsy nature scene, bright birds in the boughs.

“I can’t leave Sadie for long,” Kat says. “She needs me.” A sudden smile. “She’s been drinking my milk like crazy today. I thought for sure all that milk would go to waste, but no, she drank, like, eight bottles.”

“That’s great.”

“That’s why I’ve decided that no matter what, I’m preserving her family.” She smiles again, like she’s happy about this decision. She’s not fooling either of us.

“You saw what was happening in that hospital room, right?” I just need to make sure she hasn’t lost her faculties entirely, in the wrong direction. I mean, it’s OK if her lunacy causes her to flee the neighborhood but not if it makes her determined to stay. No matter what. You should never utter that phrase in your life, because you never know what’s going to matter.