“Uh,we didn't get your name.Did we get his name Emma?" she says as if on cue."I tried,Chloe.But he wouldn't tell me,so I tackled him," I say rolling my eyes.”

“What can I say,” he rolls his eyes at me, “you made me play your knight in shining armor for so long, I just can't seem to get it out of my system.”

“You'd tell me if we were getting married, wouldn't you? I mean, you wouldn't just appear on my doorstep one day and say we were due at the church in an hour.”

“Congratulations, Mommy," I say, dropping the doll into his hands. "You could've told me I knocked you up.""My bad. I thought you'd force me to get an abortion," Henry replies, taking the baby and cradling it as if it's real. "He has your eyes, Woods.""And your hair." The doll is bald. "Can we name him Joe Montana?""Hells no, his name is Jerry Rice.""No, his name is Joe Montana.""I was in labor with him for fourteen hours!" Henry exclaims as he rocks the baby back and forth. “His name is Jerry Rice."I grin. "Fine.”

“Sorry,” I say to my father. “Hope we didn’t wake you. After last night, I wanted to check on Harlin’s arm.”He tilts his head like he is absolutely sure I’m lying. “And how is his arm, Elise?” he asks.“Uh . . . better?”My father stands motionless for a second, and then he shakes his head and walks into the kitchen. I hear the clink of cups, and then the running of water for the coffeepot.“That was a nice save,” Harlin says, sounding amused. “So detailed. Like a nurse.”“Shut up, Harlin,” I say, trying not to smile. “I didn’t hear you offer anything better.”“You sure you didn’t want to tell him we were playing doctor? That might have sounded more believable.”I turn quickly and swat at him. He laughs, dodging my swing, and catches my hand. “I would tackle you right here,” he says, leaning close. “Pin you and kiss you. But with the luck we have in your house, someone will walk in. And then what will you tell them?” he whispers. “That you were giving me CPR?”“Stop!” I slap his shoulder again.”

“We tried so hard. We were always trying to help each other. But not because we were helpless. He needed to get things for me, just as I needed to get things for him. It gave us purpose. Sometimes I would ask him for something that I did not even want, just to let him get it for me. We spent our days trying to help each other help each other. I would get his slippers. He would make my tea. I would turn up the heat so he could turn up the air conditioner so I could turn up the heat.”