“The fucking things I feel when I look at this house. It frightens me, I swear.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” he said, “but I see this house and I want to give you a home, somewhere we can…” He trailed off.

Have a family, I thought. A little night owl. A little, little bird.

As soon as the thought entered my mind, I shoved it out. Violently. I wanted a career, success, love, but not some Martha Stewart vision of happiness. That wasn’t me.

So why was I picturing a small girl with blonde curls and a little green-eyed boy?

“What’s the matter?” Matt scanned my face.

“I—” I swallowed. “I want you to myself. I mean we just … just got engaged.”

“You have me to yourself. You know I’m all yours.”

“But … kids.” My voice cracked.

“Oh, bird.” He chuckled and nuzzled my cheek. “Is that what you’re worried about? We won’t start a family right away. Hell, we haven’t even set a wedding date. There’s no rush.”

“Well, what if I—” Never want kids? The words withered in my throat. I pulled back to look at Matt. He cocked his head, a touch of confusion dimming his smile. God, I couldn’t stand to disappoint him. “Um, what if I can’t … have kids?”

His smile faded completely.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

I traced his lips. “That bridge” indeed. It wasn’t fair to charge into marriage without telling Matt that the thought of pregnancy made me queasy. But we weren’t exactly charging into marriage. We were charging into engagement. Maybe forever. My shoulders drooped.

“There’s always adoption,” I mumbled.

His mouth twisted.

“I don’t want someone else’s kid. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No! No. Matt, just … kiss me.” I pressed my mouth to his spontaneously.

His fingers sifted through my hair. He gripped my jaw and tasted me deeply. I felt dizzy when he broke the kiss, oxygen starved and hungry for his mouth.

“More?” he whispered.

“Yes … please. Er—” I shifted back on his lap, my head spinning. Engagement, talk of children—things were happening too fast. Maybe Matt had been right in wanting to delay our engagement. Why mess with a good thing? Fuck, Hannah, make up your mind. “We should probably go in. It’s getting late.”

We crossed the lawn hand in hand. He passed one of the bouquets to me.

“For your sister,” he said. “You give it to her.”

Guilt nettled at me as I inhaled the flowers’ perfume. I hadn’t seen my sister since my birthday, over a month ago. She’d looked out for me after my breakup with Matt, but Matt and I had repaired things, and I’d barely given Chrissy another thought.

The front door swung open and my mother beamed at us.

“Hey, Mom.” We hugged.

Daisy’s bark resounded from the hallway. The spaniel whooshed out and lunged at Matt, then at me, panting and whining.

“Mrs. Catalano, it’s lovely to see you again.” Matt hugged my mom and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He offered the bouquet and Mom buried her nose in the blooms.

“So gorgeous. Thank you. You should be calling me Helen by now. It’s good to see you all in one piece.” She patted Matt’s cheek and he smiled graciously. I wanted the earth to swallow me. “You two are just in time for dessert. Do you like ice cream, Matt?”

He gave me a dark look.

“Uh, we already ate, Mom. Sorry. Is Chrissy around?”

“In her room.”

Matt took his cue. His social graces never failed to surprise me. “When was I here last?” he said, escorting my mother down the hall. “Thanksgiving, wasn’t it?”

I watched them turn the corner. A goofy grin pulled at my mouth. How nice to bring home a man and not a boy.

I bounded up the stairs to Chrissy’s room. I knocked once on the door.

No answer.

“Chrissy?” I called.

After a moment, a small, dry voice replied, “Han? Come in.”

I let myself into the bedroom. My nose scrunched at the smell of incense and cigarette smoke. I squinted in the dark.

“Shut the door.”

“Sure.” Frowning, I closed the door and walked to the bed where Chrissy lay, a cigarette between her fingers. She blew a stream of smoke out the window. “Mom and Dad let you smoke in here?” I peered around the room. An ashtray stood on the windowsill, an incense holder on her cluttered desk. Heaps of clothing covered the floor, along with soda cans and junk mail.

“Eh, sorta.” Chrissy pushed herself up and coughed into her hand. Her face was sallow, her body hidden beneath an oversized T-shirt. I perched on the edge of her bed.

“Flowers,” I said. “From me and Matt.”

“Oh, sweet.” She accepted the bouquet with a half-smile. “Thought I heard him.”

I edged closer to my sister, trying to get a better look at her.

“I bet he’d like to see you, if you feel like venturing downstairs.”

“I’m … not really dressed,” she said. “Some other time.”

“So what’s … going on with you lately?”

She smashed out her cigarette and stared at the peonies. Her expression puckered. I hadn’t seen my sister cry in years, and for a moment I didn’t know what was happening. Two slivers of light appeared in her eyes, tears brimming.