THE SAKE OF WANT

Dear Spike:

I’m not worried.

I keep telling your mother that. I wonder if she believes me. I wonder if I believe me.

We went out to the movies last night. I kept looking over to see if she was paying much attention to the show. She kept looking over to see if I was. And so it goes. And so it will until Wednesday, when we get your pictures.

Everyone keeps telling us not to be nervous. “I had a friend who had a screen test like this,” they say. “It happens a lot,” they say.

I keep thinking about the odds. Like drawing the Ace of Spaces from a deck of cards, I tell myself.

I’ve got a deck here in the drawer of my desk. I shuffled through it three times. Queen of hearts. Eight of clubs. Seven of diamonds.

Everything will be OK. The odds are on our side.

I do realize that someone has to draw the Ace. And I feel guilty hoping it isn’t us, because that means I’m hoping for someone else’s pain. But so it goes.

For the most part, I’m being honest when I tell your mother I’m not worried. I do think about it, but I don’t brood. And other than the fact that I kept looking over at your mom last night, I was watching the show.

I am confident that things will turn out fine for us. And so more than anything, I’d simply like to get this chapter of our pregnancy behind us.

Turns out, though, that times runs no faster or slower for the sake of want. You’ll learn that when someone you love is leaving and you want your final days together to go on forever. You’ll learn that when you have to be away from your family for work, and you want the days to move more swiftly. And so it goes.

Two more days. Two more nights. Then we’ll know you’re fine. And then we’ll move onto another worry.

Four of diamonds. Eight of spades. Three of spades.

So it goes.

Love,
dad