“Now that we all have partners, all husbands should come pick up theirprojects."Pick up our project? Shrugging, I stand up and stretch my arms. Henry also stands. "No way, dude," I say. "I'm the man in this relationship.""Oh yeah, absolutely," he says, grinning. He sits back down as I walk to the closet to see this project, which turns out to be one of those fakeelectronic babies. Oh good God. Ms. Bonner hands me a fake baby boy. The doll has these creepy glass eyes that look like they’re staring straightinto my soul. I hold the doll out in front of me like it's a flaming bag of poo and carry it back to Henry."Congratulations, Mommy," I say, dropping the doll into his hands. You could've told me I knocked you up.”

“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.”

“Henry keeps dealing. When all the cards have been separated, I pick up my stack and shuffle my cards again. Then I look up into Henry's eyes, and he's staring back at me, at my tears, and I see all these tiny wrinkles around his eyes-sadness wrinkles. He frowns, biting his lip.”

“So you were checking up on me?" I aks"No," Noah says. He puts a faux-shocked look on his face, then turns back to his magazine, pretending to be engrossed. I take the magazine our of his hand and toss it back onto the table."That's good," I say, "That you weren't checking up on me. Because I'm totally fine.""I know." He shrugs."And I don't need to be checked up on.""Definitely not.""I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.""Perfectly.""So we agree.""Yup.""So then where are you clothes?""What?""Your clothes," I say. "Where are your clothes? You came to the Laundromat so you must have some clothes." I fold my arms across my chest and wait,"Oh, my clothes," he says, giving me an easy grin. "I didn't come here to do laundry.""Oh, really?" I say. "The what were you here to do?""I was here," he says, rolling his eyes like it should be obvious, "so I could go across the street to Cooley's and check my schedule for the week.""And you just happened to see me coming into the Laundromat?""Exactly,”

“I stand to leave, but my father says, “Wait!” over the red telephone. “Let me just look at you a minute.” He smiles at me proudly. “I know you been in some trouble, son, but you turned out good. That’s all I ever wanted,” he tells me. Then he puts his hand against the glass and I put my hand against the glass. “I love you,” he says.“I love you, too,” I say back.”

“Here are more lines from The Great Gatsby. I liked to walk up Fifth Avenue and pick out romantic women from the crowd and imagine that in a few minutes I was going to enter into their lives, and no one would ever know or disapprove. I like to remember when I was one of them, or to pretend that I am one of them still, sensing that restless man at my back and half turning, no, turning all the way, open-armed, saying, Pick me, pick me.”