The Knocking Started Right After She Told Me He Was Mine

like each other.

“Do you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She studied me a second longer, then nodded toward a spiral notebook on the side table. “I wrote things down.”

I reached for it with my free hand. The cover had cartoon bears on it. Inside, every page was filled with her neat slanted handwriting.

First bottle. Wet diapers. Doctor’s questions. The song that calmed continue reading …