Chapter 8

Gregory forces himself to smile. “Probably.”

“Hot dogs aren’t so bad.” Rosemary winks. She butters her corn and lifts the ear to take a bite. “Have you given any more thought to having a baby since we last talked?” She cocks her head and puts down the corn, staring at him. He wonders if the move is calculated to say, “You’re not going to avoid me on this. Not again.”

“Rosemary, school starts in a couple of days. I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“You don’t want to, do you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“What do you say then?” Her fork clatters to the plate and her eyes have become bright, watery. They have gone back and forth on this issue over the past year and it never ends in a positive way. But Gregory just isn’t ready. He butters a roll and considers the surface of the table. He takes a sip of wine and then spills the glass as he sets it back down. “Oh shit!” He starts to rise, but Rosemary places a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back into his chair.