"On your head be it, in that case," I said nervously, marveling at his courage.

"Fine," he said, unbothered. "Well, as I said, I didn't hear from her for a whole year--I was just starting to come to terms with it. And then about a month ago she turned up out of the blue. I couldn't believe it! And she brought Molly with her."

"Who's Molly?" I interrupted. "Is that your baby?"

"Yes," he said. "Isn't it a terrible name for a baby?"

"I like it," I said huffily. I suppose I'm a bit defensive because my baby's name isn't the most glamorous one you could imagine either.

"Maybe," said Adam, "but you'd have to see her. She's

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gorgeous. She should be called something beautiful. Like Mirabelle or--"

"Isn't that a restaurant?" I interrupted. I didn't like the direction this conversation was taking. Especially with Kate within earshot. I didn't want her to get a complex. God knows, the cards were stacked against her enough as it was. I was afraid that in thirty years' time when she was a drug addict and an alcoholic and bulimic and addicted to shoplifting, that I'd get the blame. That she'd say that it was all my fault for not calling her something pretty and girlie.

"Look, don't worry about your child's name," I said. "Keep going with the story."

"Okay," he said. "Well, anyway, we made up, I suppose. She said she was sorry that she hadn't involved me from the beginning with Molly. But she wanted to know was it too late to start now?"

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"And?" I asked.

"Well, at first I really wanted to tell her to fuck off," he said.

Jesus! I nearly gasped. I could hardly believe that Adam was acting so normal.

Hold the front page. Shocking new headlines--"Adam holds grudge!"

"But then I realized that I'd be cutting off my nose to spite my face," he continued.

How disappointing, I thought. For a moment there I thought he was going to act immature and childish. Well, never mind. There's always an- other time.

"So we've come to a civilized agreement about Molly's custody. Hannah and I are friends again--well, at least we're working on it," he said.

"Oh!" I said, startled. "Oh."

What did "friends" mean? I wondered. Did it mean that they had sex at every available opportunity or did it really mean just "friends"?

Only one way to find out. I took a deep breath.

"Um, so does that mean that you and Hannah aren't, you know, going out with each other?" I asked, trying to sound very casual.

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"No." He laughed, giving me a "Haven't you been paying attention to anything I've been saying" look.

("Thank God!")

"No," he said. "I thought that was obvious. That's the whole point. That's why this is all so great. I can be involved in my child's life without having to be romantically involved with her mother.

"But at the same time I can be friends with Hannah because I respect and admire her," he added hastily, always anxious to be good and decent.

"Are you really happy about seeing your child?" I asked gently.

He nodded and looked as if he might cry.

Oh, please don't, I thought frantically. I think I'm sick of all this new man business. Stop being in touch with your bloody emotions. Keep away from your feminine side! If I catch you near it I'll slap you.

A little voice in my head prompted, "Ask him!"

"Fuck off," I muttered back to it.

"Go on," it said again, "ask him. What have you got to lose?"

"No," I said, feeling very uncomfortable. "Leave me alone."

"You're dying to know," reminded the voice. "In fact, you deserve to know."

"Just shut up," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm not going to ask him anything!"

"Well, if you won't," said the voice, "then I will."

And to my horror I found myself opening my mouth and a voice came out and asked Adam, "So was that why you liked being around me? You know, because of Kate? Because I had a baby?"

I was mortified!

I couldn't believe that I had found the nerve to ask it.

You couldn't take my subconscious anywhere.

"No!" said Adam. Well, he didn't so much say it as shout it. "No, no, no. I was so afraid you'd think that. That you'd go all Freudian on me and think that I liked being with you just because I was looking for some sort of replacement for my lost child and girlfriend."

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"Well, you can hardly blame me, can you?" I asked. But not in a nasty aggressive way.

"But why would I need some kind of bait to want to be with you?" he asked. "You're wonderful!"

I said nothing. Just sat there, feeling half embarrassed, half delighted.

"Seriously," he went on. "You've got to believe me. What kind of self- esteem have you got? You're amazing. Don't tell me you didn't know that?

"Well, didn't you?" he asked again when I didn't answer.

"No," I muttered.

"Look at me," he said. He put his hand gently on my cheek and turned my face up to his. "Please listen to me. You're so beautiful. And kind and smart and funny and lovely and a laugh. They're some of the reasons that I like being with you so much. The fact that you had a child was neither here nor there."

"Really?" I asked. Blushing like a beacon and going all girlie and shy.

"Really." He laughed. "I would have liked you even if you hadn't had a baby."

He smiled.

He looked beautiful.

Oh God! I was melting.

"Honestly," he said.

"I believe you," I said.

I smiled too. I couldn't help myself.

We sat on the bed smirking at each other like morons.

After a while he spoke again.

"So you took my advice in the end," he said, gently teasing.

"About what?" I asked. "Oh, you mean about James. Well, I didn't go back to him after all, but it wasn't because of anything you said."

"Fine, fine." He laughed. "I'm just glad you changed your mind. It doesn't really matter who changed it for you. You deserve a lot better than someone like him."




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