Kendra’s apartment is exactly the same as ours. The same two bedrooms with windows; her windows face the courtyard while ours face Savier Street. The same concrete counters and black kitchen cabinets. The same layout and, oddly enough, it even smells the same since she gifted me the same scented oil diffuser she uses. The one major difference is that her apartment is overrun with baby gear.

You walk in the door and, if you’re not paying attention, you’ll bump into the black stroller with the lime-green polka-dots. Her kitchen sink is always piled high with baby-food containers that she sterilized and set out to dry. I’ve never understood how they’re supposed to remain sterile while drying in that dish rack. Her living room is cramped by a playpen and, half the time, her coffee table is pushed against the wall under the window so eight-month-old Trucker can crawl around without knocking his head on the furniture.

I take a seat on Kendra’s overstuffed sofa and try not to stare at Trucker in his high chair. He has Kendra’s dark hair and gray eyes, but his face is round and bright, just like Kendra’s husband, Aaron. Aaron is a great guy, but he can be a bit abrasive sometimes, like Kendra. The few times Kendra has tried to get him to hang out with Houston and me, he accused her of trying to set him up on an adult playdate. Kendra gave up trying to force us into a four-way friendship months ago.

“So, I had to go to Aaron’s cousin’s house in Salem for a birthday party this weekend. So trashy. I swear, it’s like I married the only sane person in that whole family. How was your weekend?” Kendra asks as she shovels a spoonful of organic pureed peas into Trucker’s pursed baby lips.

I tear my eyes away from Trucker and sigh. “I told Houston I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant? Already?”

“No, I lied to him.”

“You what? Why?”

I get an itch on my forearm, but I know it’s just the guilt irritating my scars, so I resist the urge to scratch. “Because I’m stupid. I thought he had found out about the appointment with the fertility clinic.”

“Because he came home early?”

“Yeah. I was convinced he had opened up my laptop and saw the website in my history. Especially because, just a few days later, we were having sex and he pulled out for the first time since I had this IUD implanted fourteen months ago.”

Kendra uses Trucker’s bib to wipe away some green goop from the corner of his mouth, then she turns to me with a very suspicious look in her eyes. “He pulled out?”

“Yeah, I know. It freaked me out. But he was acting like it was no big deal, so I accused him of cheating on me.”

“Oh, because that’s always smart.”

I lean forward and grab a travel magazine off the coffee table, which is right where it’s supposed to be today. “I know. I’ve been doing a lot of stupid things ever since I had that consultation. Dr. Menlo told me that even if I take the IUD out now, I probably won’t get pregnant for four to six months. And that’s only if we track my ovulation patterns and have sex during peak times. I can’t even get Houston to come inside me with an IUD. How am I ever supposed to have a baby?” I sigh heavily. “Why doesn’t he want to have a baby with me?”

“He doesn’t want to have a baby with anyone. You know that.”

Kendra is referring to the conversation I had with Ava Cavanaugh, Houston’s mother, shortly before Houston and I got married two years and three months ago. Houston doesn’t know his mother told me about the ex-girlfriend he got pregnant. According to Ava, they broke up right after the girl got an abortion. She wouldn’t tell me the girl’s name, but I got the feeling Ava loved her very much, which makes me even more insecure. The reason she divulged this information to me was as a cautionary tale. In other words, she was silently warning me, If Houston didn’t want children with her, then he will definitely never want children with you.

I flip the travel magazine open to a random page and land on an advertisement for vacation rentals in Bali. “I know, but that’s what all guys think.”

“No, it’s not, Tessa. Aaron and Houston are not all guys. Besides, once Aaron found out I was pregnant, he completely flipped sides and couldn’t get enough of my juicy birth canal.”

“Ew.”

“Whatever. The point is that you have to accept that Houston doesn’t want kids. And you have to emotionally prepare for the possibility that he may leave you if you do get pregnant without his consent or if he finds out you’re bluffing about this pregnancy.”

I turn another page and roll my eyes at the happy couple pictured next to an article about chic honeymoon locations. “You’re the one who told me to get pregnant. Now you’re telling me to consider the consequences?”

“I didn’t tell you to get pregnant. All I said is that it worked for me. Results may vary. But I guess it doesn’t matter what I think ’cause Houston is the type of guy who needs to be trapped or someone else is gonna sneak in there. He’s totally Vanessa’s type: hot, rich, and married. Like, you should totally keep him away from Vanessa or she’d be all like, ‘Lawd! I’d let him ram me so hard my lunch would fall out.’”

My stomach curdles at the thought of Vanessa and Houston together. “Ugh. I hate that girl.”

Vanessa is Aaron’s sister, who likes to come over and visit Kendra every once in a while. She has a disgusting habit of dating married men. She claims it’s because she likes excitement and expensive gifts, especially when they come without commitment. I think it’s because she’s a dirty home-wrecker.

Kendra pulls Trucker out of the high chair and he flashes her a gracious smile as she balances him on her hip. His gray eyes find me across the room and I smile, though I know his eyes aren’t developed enough to see me clearly. His chubby hand smacks his mom’s chest as she clears the bowl of food from the chair.

“Settle down, Trucker.”

I set the magazine on the coffee table as I rise from the sofa. “I’ll take him so you can clean up.”

Kendra’s brow furrows with pity as I hold my hands out to her and I know what she’s thinking. And she’s right.

She hands him over and I get a weird sensation in my chest the moment his soft body is snuggled against my hip and inside the crook of my arm. Trucker reaches for my hair and I gently grab his hand to redirect his attention. He smells so soft and clean with just a hint of sweet earthiness on his breath from the baby food. He nods at me and I nod back. Kendra has been teaching him to nod and shake his head as well as a few simple phrases in sign language. I don’t know why Trucker’s nodding at me, but I’d like to think it’s because he approves of my prospects as a baby handler.

I just wish I could get Houston to feel the same.