One Small Thing Read Online Free PDF Page A

nodded and swallowed his beer. Out in Dias Dorados Court, the neighbors were busy preparing for the long afternoon and evening, grills fired up, the air full of cooking meat and smoke. Earlier, Dan had helped set up about ten tables in the middle of the court, and now Frank Chow and Tim Mueller were bringing out large, green canvas umbrellas they’d all chipped in for after last year’s epic sunburn, every other person tossing all night on painful sheets. Kids were sitting on the curbs, wishing the day away, holding boxes of fireworks Ralph Chatagnier had bought in Livermore—Lotus Bloom, Flame Tower, Go Forever, Night Parade. Dan had already filled three water buckets so they could put out the blaze if a rare Monte Veda policeman were to drive by. They’d held the line at bottle rockets, knowing that even one spark could set a roof or dry, blonde hill ablaze. In fact, even though it was only ten am, it was already 85 degrees, as hot as it had been for weeks. By two, they’d all be huddled under the umbrellas, taking turns bringing the kids to either Dan and Avery’s or the Chow’s pool. When the sun finally set sometime after eight, they’d relax, take in the night, wait for the big guns to come out, the sky alight with color.
     
    “Yeah,” Luis was saying. “It’s great being able to watch him just sleep. I’m usually at the high school by seven.”
     
    Dan nodded again, feeling the muscles in his neck tense. “Summer will be great for all of you. Hey, I’d better go see what Avery wants me to do next.”
     
    “Okay, man. But don’t leave me out here too long. I’ll end up having to listen to Frank tell me about his new foundation.”
     
    Dan patted Luis’ shoulder, leaving his hand on his friend for a second. If someone had told him three months ago that he’d be jealous of Luis and Valerie, Dan would have laughed, saying, “They’re my best friends!” But in truth, he was jealous. Or maybe it was more. Maybe he was beginning to feel that he didn’t deserve a baby. Maybe he thought that it wasn’t about Avery’s body at all—it was about him. Not his sperm, that he knew. Motility and morphology had checked out, A okay, sperm 100% active and overpopulated, just as they should be. It was what he’d left behind that was the problem.
     
    “Dan! God, where have you been?” Avery pulled open the garage door. “I need you!”
     
    Dan dumped the Corona bottle in the maroon recycling bin and walked toward his wife. Avery’s hair was up in a ponytail, her neck shiny with sweat. He wondered why she’d felt it was necessary to wake up at 6.30 and take the kickboxing class Oakmont, when the preparations for the long day were obviously exercise enough. As he followed her inside the house, focusing on her tight, muscled calves, he knew she would never like the changes in her body when she finally got pregnant. Avery had organized all the changes in their life, but extra fluid and flesh were something she’d be unable to stop.
     
    “What is it?”
     
    “The damn pool cover. I swear it’s absorbing water. I can’t roll it up. You know how that thing worries me. If we turn our backs for a second, some kid is going to get sucked up by it.”
     
    “Let’s go figure it out,” he said, holding the kitchen door open for her. She didn’t look at him. She was in one of her, “Let’s finish this” moods. If he didn’t do as she said or teased her about her worries or the fact that her pasta wasn’t done yet or said that Isabel had called three times and was, in fact, bringing over the dreaded salad, they’d have a fight. Sometimes, when he was tired after working for fourteen hours, he couldn’t stop himself, the tickle of the irritating sentence too much to contain. Those nights, she slept on the edge of the bed, only forgiving him when he kissed her shoulder, neck, cheek, only when he held her close and said, “I’m sorry.”
     
    Then, she would turn to him, pull his face to hers,