Jack finished with the Corolla and spun around to greet me, hearing my feet shuffling over the loose gravel of the parking lot. At first, he didn’t recognize me. People got that glassy eyed, vacant look with strangers, kinda like dogs trying to do physics, but then something clicked in his head. He blinked. His head tilted just slightly, and his mouth tipped up taller at the ends.

Of course he was smiling. The last time he’d seen me, I was bouncing on his weenie like it was my own personal trampoline.

“Sara, right? From the party?”

“Yeah, hey, Jack. My best friend came to get gas earlier and said you were around. Devi? She was at the party, too.” I managed my own smile but I felt like I was going to barf on his work boots. “I. Uhh. I was looking for you for a couple months after we hooked up, but no one could find your number or knew your name.” I pointed up at the family garage sign. “Know it now, though.”

He nodded. “Same, yeah. Didn’t help that I couldn’t remember your bigger name? I knew it was Sara-something but not the rest of it. And there are a lot of regular Saras around, come to find out. I’m dating another one now, actually.”

His smile was sheepish. His hand went to the back of his neck.

He was so cute.

...look, just ’cause I’m on a diet doesn’t mean I can’t look at the menu. Jack was a good-looking guy. That in no way impacted my fondness for Leaf. If anything, it made me happy that maybe our kid wouldn’t be uglier than a bucket of rocks.

“Cool! I’ve got a boyfriend, too. His name’s Leaf,” I replied. “And I’m Serendipity. It’s not an easy one to remember.”

“Nice! And yeah, that—sorry. I tried. On the name.”

Awkward silence.

More smiling.

I kept waiting for him to notice my belly. Heck, I kept patting it in circles to draw his gaze downward, but he kept right on looking at my face. The one time in my life I wanted a guy to give me that lazy perusal and he wouldn’t comply.

Going to have to do this the hard way, I guess.

“So I’m pregnant,” I blurted. “About six months.”

“Whoa. You are?” That got him to look down, and when he got there, staring at my distorted Link-faced midsection, he wavered on his feet. “That’s...so. Is it...”

“Yep!”

I probably sounded too cheerful, like Barbie on steroids, but in reality, I was panicking, my body hot, my toes curling inside my sneakers. The tummy flutters that indicated the child was awake increased. When Mommy was twitterpated, so was Little Star, apparently. We were going down the anxiety trail together—our first Mommy-and-Me adventure.

Jack couldn’t stop staring at my belly.