I watch the yarrow bend beneath the weight of my piss and think of our baby boy, George. Will he have sea-green eyes flecked with gold like me? Or will they be hazel, like Genie’s? I tell myself I’ll be happy no matter what, but the truth is I’m afraid they’ll be Dad’s eyes: slate-gray and passionless. I couldn’t handle that; I need love, I know this.
I look over my shoulder at the maroon Ford Escort, the only thing available at the Avis Car Rental on short notice. Nothing pretty, but she’s been a trouper so far. Soon, I’ll embrace Genie and greet our little man, George, for the first time. I’ll get some shit for not being there during his birth, but what were the odds she’d go into labor an entire month earlier than expected?
I zip up my jeans and stare at the trees, stretching my legs. I hear a rustling sound, but after a few moments, it stops. I shake my head and return to the car. The doors are locked, the keys hang from the ignition.
“Fucking fuck fuck!…
