My husband had just left without telling me why.
And somehow, the one thing he had specifically asked me not to do was give our son the name we had already chosen together.
Caleb Bennett.
I stared at the closed door.
For several seconds, I honestly expected Nolan to nb reappear.
Maybe he had forgotten something in the car.
Maybe there was a problem with insurance.
Maybe his mother had arrived.
Maybe he had suddenly remembered some absurd administrative detail because Nolan remembered everything.
He was that kind of man.
Our spice jars had labels.
Our tax records were organized by year and category.
When I was twenty-six weeks pregnant, Nolan created a spreadsheet comparing four different car seats with columns for weight limits, crash-test ratings, ease of cleaning, and something he called “installation confidence.”
