Mari

“Buy a vowel!” My dad shouts at the TV, as if the Wheel of Fortune contestants can hear him. “We need vowels. Come on, people.”

“No,” Mom says. “He needs to pick an ‘r.’ Why hasn’t anyone picked ‘r’ yet?”

The contestant lands on $600 and chooses ‘s’ and Vanna strolls across the stage in a glimmering gold gown, tapping four letters as they illuminate.

A blessing in disguise.

I could solve the puzzle now, but I don’t want to ruin it for my parents. They live for this. In fact, there’s a small steno book in the top drawer of the coffee table where they’ve been tallying who guesses the puzzles correctly the most. Last I knew, my mom is up by seven.

“Now what in the world could that be?” Mom leans forward in her chair, as if being a few extra inches closer to the screen could possibly help her.

My dad drags his hand along his bristled jaw, eyes squinting.

Turning my attention to my phone, I take a quiet picture of the TV screen and text it to Isabelle with the caption, “JUST WANTED TO SHOW YOU WHAT YOU’RE MISSING OUT ON HERE.”

She responds immediately with an emoji that’s both laughing and crying, and then the screen turns black and my phone begins to buzz with an incoming call. It’s a weird number, one I’ve never seen before. It looks foreign, and I almost decide not to answer it, but my curiosity gets the better of me.

Sitting up, I clear my throat and press the green button. “Hello?”

The line is quiet for a second, and I pull the phone from my ear to make sure I’m still connected.

“Hello?” I ask again.

“Mari?” A guy’s voice says my name.

“Who is this?” My parents are both staring at me now, but I wave them off and tell them it’s okay. Rising, I leave the living room and stroll down the hall to my room, closing the door behind me.

“It’s Alec.”

I stop in my tracks. Until now, I hadn’t thought about him at all. I’d actually written him off, opting to fill myself with realistic expectations rather than sit around and hope for a miracle that was never going to happen.

“Hi.” I perch myself on the side of my bed, drawing my knees to my chest. It won’t be long until I won’t be able to sit like this anymore.

“How are you?” he asks. “How are you feeling? How’s the baby?”

“Good.” I speak slow and carefully, my inquisitiveness at an all-time peak. “Everything’s good. What’s … going on?”

“I’m in Hong Kong,” he says. “Just woke up actually. Didn’t sleep much last night. Haven’t slept that well since I got here, honestly.”

“Oh. Um. I’m … sorry?”

“Ever since you told me about the baby, I’ve just been thinking about it.” I hear him exhale on the other end, his voice muffled for a moment before the swish of covers fills the receiver. I picture him on the other side of the world, pacing his hotel room. “I feel bad about what I said to you—about asking you to, you know, take care of it. That was cold. I was in shock. That’s no excuse, but anyway, I wanted you to know that I want to be there for you any way I can. Financially or otherwise. I’m sure there’s a lot to work out. Scheduling. Co-parenting. That sort of thing. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. I mean, if that’s okay with you? Maybe you don’t even want me to be a part of this?”

“Alec.” I clear my throat, feeling my lips pull at the corners. I’ve never felt so relieved in my life. “I would love for you to be a part of the baby’s life, and I would appreciate any help you could give me.”

He exhales. “Oh, good. Thank God. I figured you probably hated me after what I said to you. I was actually prepared for you to hang up on me.”

“No, no. I wouldn’t do that.” I slide back on the bed, pressing my back against the headboard. A weightless calm washes over me, like the feeling that everything’s probably going to be all right.

“I’m supposed to be in Hong Kong for the next six months,” he says. “But I was thinking maybe I’d come back sometime in the next week or two so we could talk about everything in person?”

“I’m in Nebraska,” I say. “Just so you know, I’m not in the city anymore. But you’re welcome to come here. I imagine my parents might want to meet you, you know, since we’re going to be family.”

God, it’s so weird to think of it like that.

Alec Sheffield, my Tinder hook up, is going to be family.

I place my hand on my lower belly, grateful that this tiny life won’t have to grow up without a father.

“That’s fine,” he says. “We’ll figure this out together, Mari. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be. We both got ourselves in this situation. It’s no more your fault than it is mine.”

“I’ll text you once I book my flight. I’ve got to hit the shower and head to the office.” His words are lighter, airier now.

“See you soon, Alec.”