Free Desperate by Daniel Palmer

any excuse was a good excuse to keep from moving forward.
    “Then you do it,” I said.
    “Ask Lily if she Googled your name and bought you that present as a way of hurting you? Honestly, you want me to have that conversation?” She shook her head slightly, as if the sight of me sickened her. “If that’s really what you want, then I’ll do it. But should I have that conversation before or after her ultrasound?”
    “Jeez, Anna . . . I just . . .”
    “No, I’m serious, Gage. If this is really important to you, when should I ask? Because if I see that picture of the baby, I’m not going to be able to let go.” Anna covered her mouth, but not in time to silence her sob. Her eyes squeezed closed and she turned away from me. Her shoulders shook in reaction to the sudden surge of emotion.
    I stopped being angry and felt like a bigger jerk with each step I took crossing our kitchen’s white linoleum floor. I wrapped my arms around Anna’s shaking shoulders and tried to comfort her with an embrace.
    “I’m sorry, babe,” I said.
    Anna kept her back to me.
    “Please just tell me you want this,” she said in a soft voice. “Please. I just need to know that you really, really want this the way that I do.”
    “I want this,” I said. “I honestly do.”
    “Then we’ll go speak to Lily together, because that’s how we’re in this.”

CHAPTER 12
    O n her second day of living with us, Lily dressed much like her first. She seemed to favor that gray hooded sweatshirt with a white tee underneath, but that day she wore baggy sweatpants instead of the ripped pair of jeans I’d seen her in before. By contrast, Anna and I were both dressed for work. The morning sun, already strong, suggested a warm day ahead. The apartment would remain shady for a few more hours, though. Perhaps that explained the chill in the air. Or perhaps it was the way Lily kept looking at me.
    Lily sat on the sofa, body leaning forward, only occasionally making eye contact. What was this all about? her expression asked. Why did we want to talk to her so urgently? Lily’s interlocked hands nervously massaged her long fingers. Anna came back from the kitchen with a glass of water, no ice per Lily’s request. Lily worked nights and our phone call had awakened her, or so Anna had said. I felt bad about interrupting her sleep, but this had to be discussed.
    I repositioned two chairs in front of the sofa while Anna set the water glass down on a wicker coaster. We took our seats, facing Lily, and once again I thought of us as two parents. This time we were preparing for a knockdown confrontation with our insolent teenage daughter. Lily’s nervousness was evident again with those darting eyes, tapping feet, fidgety legs. She seemed young to me, and even though our age gap was only twelve years, those were significant years developmentally. When I was twenty-seven, Lily’s age, she was only fifteen. I was building my career while Lily was learning how to drive. Sweat beaded up on the back of my neck. Why? Doubt, I thought. I doubted my earlier suspicions. Lily was barely an adult. Her anxiousness gave me pause and forced me to mull over Anna’s earlier question. What motive would Lily have to hurt me? I came up with nothing. She needed a place to live and we were able to provide. She wanted a loving couple to adopt her unborn baby and we were more than willing. Why would she sabotage her safety net? What gain could she possibly achieve? I could conjure up only two answers for those questions: she wouldn’t, and none.
    “Lily,” Anna began, her voice calm, designed to allay any concern. “Gage and I want to speak with you about the present you gave him.”
    Lily cringed. Her pained expression conveyed that she continued to blame herself for the incident.
    “You guys want me to go,” Lily said, making a soft sigh of finality.
    With that we went from having a discussion to standing on the edge. Anna’s hand went to her chest, a shocked look came