Page 63 of Counting the Days

The simplicity and genius of the thought floored her. As she watched him gently guiding Chichi, patiently drawing with her, it was suddenly glaringly obvious. Everything about Danny screamed paternity: He was patient, kind, loyal, and hardworking. He camped, he gardened, he fixed stuff with his hands, he cooked, he cleaned, he knew how to take care of a pregnant woman; he was basically already a father, he just needed some kids.

What if somewhere, deep down, Danny did want kids, and he was just scared and hiding the truth from himself? Was Rhea expending all of her energy in the wrong direction? Didsheneed to change her mind, or did Danny need to change his? Was that why they miraculously met on a golf course and magically ran into each other in Big Sur? Was that why the goddess sent an earthquake the first time they had sex and why her mom kept sending hummingbirds? Was the universe trying to tell herDanny Beckett was meant to be a father,and Rhea Darby was born to guide him toward his rightful path?

He was robbing himself of the greatest experience a human being can have: unconditional love, grandchildren, community, and seeing the world through new eyes. He might have missed out on all of it, but Rhea was going to try her darnedest to save him.

They really could have everything: the perfect life, the perfect family, the perfect maternity shoot. She had to be subtle in her persuasion due to his sharp instincts, but maybe she could get him there.

Chichi watched a mermaid appear underneath Danny’s marker and said, “Wow, you’re so good.”

Rhea smiled in agreement; he was so good, and he would be an amazing father. He just needed a firm nudge, and she just needed some time to prove all his reasons for not having kids were ridiculous; 215 days would have to do.

214Days

The room was dark. Dannyblindly felt for a light switch; his eyes took a moment to adjust to the soft yellow walls. A gentle cooing emanated from a crib in the corner as he approached a precious toddler. Her eyes were large pools of brown on a sweet face framed by black curls. He scooped her up and marveled at her comforting weight.

“Dada,” she said.

“I’m here, baby. I gotcha,” he said as he held her close.

She rested her head against his heart; her warmth seemed to unclog his arteries. He inhaled her, and the honey scent slowed his pulse. Rhea entered and took them in.

“How’d you know she was up?”

“I just had a feeling.”

“You guys are so connected,” Rhea said, her eyes full of adoration.

Danny’s father gingerly entered the room, a shorter, frailer version of Danny, his once black hair now gray.

“Grandpa!” the little one said.

Danny watched his father’s permanent scowl melt into agrin as he reached for the toddler. Danny’s father cradled her and made funny faces as she squealed with delight. Danny and his father locked eyes.

“I am so proud of you,” his father said.

Danny felt his pulse speed up. He could hear his own heart thumping in his rib cage. Suddenly, his arteries constricted, choking the flow of blood, and he clutched his chest.

Danny woke with a strangled gasp; his body was damp with perspiration. He threw off the blankets and sat up.

“Danny?” he heard Rhea say.

She was lying next to him, lit by the predawn glow outside the open window. She looked at him with concerned eyes, rubbed the sleep out of them, and propped herself up.

“I’m okay, sorry, I just…had a nightmare.”

“Oh no…what happened?”

“No, nothing, just like, I don’t know.”

Rhea scooted closer, wrapping her arm around him and resting her head on his chest.

“Your heart is pounding. Maybe take some deep breaths?”

The intake of oxygen, combined with the soothing pressure of Rhea, began to calm him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare. He wondered if the dream could technically be called a nightmare since nothing officially bad had happened. It was a sublimely happy tableau: the love he felt for that child; the content expression on his father’s face—he had never heard his father say those six words; andRhea…the bliss emanating from her, the way she looked at him.

Ada’s baby shower had gotten in his head; he’d seen Rhea’s face when she discovered the maternity photos. He felt her disappointment and her envy, or maybe he didn’t. She hadn’t said anything about it, even after he asked if she was okay. Maybe hewas making it all up to torture himself. Maybe she was telling the truth and already had everything she wanted. He didn’t want to bring it up again; he was afraid of what her answer would be if he asked how she currently felt about not having children.

He closed his eyes and relived the weight of the toddler in his arms. He could make his father proud. He could make Rhea look at him like that again. He could be a successful and contributing member of “normal” society and make everyone around him happy. He had many friends who had procreated to satisfy their parents or their partners. All he had to do was sacrifice an innocent child, bring them into a country where they could be shot during a science quiz, and force them to navigate the challenging terrain. Danny would eventually die and leave that child by themselves to traverse the treacherous maze. Could he do that just to please everyone else?