Page 106 - In Five Years

She pulls me in and tucks me to her side. “Now you have to get started, too,”
she says.
I imagine being pregnant. Shopping in this store for my own tiny creation. It
makes me want a cocktail.

On Sunday, I go over to her apartment. I ring the bell twice. When the door
finally opens Aaron is there, or at least his head is. He pulls the door back, and
I’m met with at least a dozen packages—boxes and baskets and all sorts of gifts

—littering the entryway.
“Did you guys rob a department store?” I ask.
Aaron shrugs. “She’s excited,” he says. “So she’s shopping?” I watch his face

closely, looking for signs of judgment or hesitation, but I find none, only a little
amusement. He’s dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, no socks. I wonder if he’s
moved some stuff in yet. If he will. They’ll have to live together, won’t they?

He kicks a box to the side and the door swings open. I enter and close it
behind me. “Congratulations,” I say.
“Oh, yeah, thanks.” He’s stacking a garment bag on top of an Amazon

delivery. He stops. He stands, tucks his hands into his pockets. “I know it’s
pretty soon.”
“Bella has always been impatient,” I say. “So it doesn’t totally surprise me.”

He laughs, but it seems more for my benefit. “I just want you to know I really
am happy. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
He looks right at me when he says it, the same way he did at the beach. I

blink away.
“Good,” I say. “I’m glad.”
Just then Bella’s voice floats in from the other room. “Dannie? Are you

here?”
Aaron smiles and steps to the side, holding his arm out for me to pass.
I follow the sound of her voice down the hallway, past the kitchen and her

bedroom and into the guest room. The bed has been pushed to the side, the
dresser placed into the center of the room, and Bella, in overalls and a head
scarf, is painting white marshmallow clouds on the walls.

“Bells,” I say. “What’s going on?”