“Come to me, Scheherazade,” he said with a cute smile. I joined him under the covers and took the book from him.

“I had a great time tonight,” I said, smiling back at him.

“I had a great time too,” he said, sliding down and lying on his side facing me. “We talked to each other for a long time and we didn’t fight, even though we didn’t have sex either. We’re getting better at this, Adler.”

“Yeah, well, baby steps,” I teased.

“You had to say ‘baby’.” He stared up at the ceiling dejectedly, but his mood improved a lot as I read to him. Eventually, I looked up and saw that my Shahryar was asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Six

It’s probably good that we got a full night’s sleep, because the next day was busy and crammed with details from the moment we got up. I was thankful for it, since it kept Adam distracted, and he didn’t obsess too much about the family gathering that evening.

He arranged to have Abby, who was living at home at the moment, come and apartment sit, telling her that he was staying with me for a little while because I might be a witness in a trial and he just wanted to make sure I was okay. We had decided that we wouldn’t go into detail because we didn’t want to worry his family.

He gathered together what he considered living essentials, clothes, toiletries, electronics, books and Phillies baseball memorabilia, and moved them in to my place. I was happy now for the fact that I had plenty of space. Adam and I would be shacking up even closer than the summer we had adjacent tents at Camp Ramah in the Poconos, and I hoped it would go better this time around than it did then.

He also brought me into the office for a few hours. He needed to prep cases so he could have more free time next week for other things, and it gave me a chance to meet people and start digging into the training materials more. He even hooked me up with some experienced prosecutors who gave me tips and helped me prepare for my argument against Jacob and my mom. By the end of the day I was feeling much more confident.

At sundown, we found ourselves in the living room of his cousin Rebekah and her husband Matt. With them was the smallest human being I had ever seen. Being an only child, I didn’t have a lot of experience with babies. Being the baby of the family, who had been away at school when his only nephew was born, Adam’s experience wasn’t exactly vast either. The events of the evening were obviously weighing heavily on his mind, as he couldn’t seem to stop squirming and every time he sat down he practically assumed the fetal position. I had to talk him out of wearing a protective cup.

I was introduced to various relatives, including Hannah’s little boy, Josh, and her husband, Nate, by a positively exuberant Debra Roth. She seemed thrilled to see me, despite the fact that she now knew far too much about my relationship with her only son. Mr. Mouth himself couldn’t even look his mother in the eye. I definitely needed to get him back on the horse that night, or we would wind up having to take old Mr. Davis up on that Viagra offer.

Adam’s relatives seemed fascinated by the fact that he had a girlfriend, especially four-year-old Josh, who announced that I was pretty and that he wanted to marry me. He also seemed very curious about something, and he kept approaching and then running away. Eventually, he worked up the nerve to raise the subject, as Adam and I sat chatting with his sisters in the dining room.

“My mom says I can’t take my dump trunk to bath time because there’s no room,” he informed me in a contemplative tone.

“Oh? Well, I’m sure she’s probably right,” I answered, smiling up at Hannah.

“So, how did you and Uncle Adam fit in the tub together at the same time?” he asked. Adam choked on the ginger ale he was sipping, and I saw the Roth girls exchange stunned, but highly amused, looks.

“Joshie! What are you saying?” Hannah asked, sounding embarrassed, but obviously trying not to laugh.

“Bubbe called Uncle Adam last night on the speaker phone, and he said they were going to take a bath together, and he was going to give her fominal sexing. What’s fominal sexing Mommy?”

“Joshua, sweetie,” Adam’s mom appeared at the door with a maniacal-looking smile, “we talked about this. Uncle Adam was just joking, and your daddy will explain it when you’re older.”

“What?!” Hannah exclaimed, aghast.

“I’m sorry, Hannah. I won’t use speaker phone anymore when Joshua is around,” Mrs. Roth replied apologetically.

“What are you apologizing for?” Sarah asked. “Adam! Why would you say something like that to your mother?”

“Let’s go find Daddy, honey,” Hannah said, hustling her son out of the room. Adam hid his face in his hands and made a sound like a wounded buffalo. We were never going to have sex again. I just knew it.

“He didn’t know it was me,” Mrs. Roth went on in a sweet motherly voice.

“Well, who in the hell did you think it was, Adam?” Abby asked with a laugh.

“Yeah, who would it have been appropriate to say that to?” Sarah added.

“Oh, what’s the big deal?’ Mrs. Roth said, coming to her baby boy’s defense. “It’s not like I didn’t know they were sleeping together. Maybe they’ll get married! Have you gotten to hold the baby yet, Lily? Sarah! Go get the baby!” she ordered.

“Maybe we should get Rabbi Stein in here too,” Abby said, sounding like she was having a wonderful time. I noted that Adam and Abby were very much alike, in looks and in personality.

“You’re coming for Thanksgiving, aren’t you, Lily?” Mrs. Roth asked.

“Um, sure, I guess. Is that okay with you?” I asked Adam. He looked up at me and was about to answer, I think in the affirmative.

“Of course it’s okay with him,” his mother answered firmly.

“Did I hear someone call me?” Rabbi Stein poked his head in.

“We were just talking about Adam and Lily getting married,” Mrs. Roth explained.

“You’re getting married?” the rabbi asked cheerfully.

“Uh …” I stammered. Adam looked like he might have become catatonic.

“Not yet,” Mrs. Roth answered helpfully.

“Ah, well you let me know when you need my services.” He smiled and popped back out just as Sarah was coming in with the baby.

She walked over and handed him to me. Adam snapped out of his trance and stared down at the little bundle in my arms. I looked down and froze, afraid that if I moved I might break him. The baby, not Adam.

“Look, Adam! She’s a natural!” Mrs. Roth exclaimed happily. She had to be kidding.

Mr. Roth appeared at the door and informed his wife she was needed. She excused herself, but not before managing to whip out her cell phone and take a picture of Adam and me staring down at a baby like we were trying to figure out a map. Suddenly, the warm, tiny person in my arms turned his head and nuzzled my boob.

“Why’s he doing that?” I asked.

“Because he’s a guy,” Adam muttered.

“He’s trying to nurse,” Abby said with a laugh. “It’s instinctive.”

“Oh! Sorry, baby. The tap is dry,” I said uncomfortably.

“I just want you to know little dude,” Adam said solemnly, “that I had nothing to do with what’s going down tonight.”

“What’s that smell?” I asked, sniffing.

“Diaper bag’s right here,” Sarah said, grabbing a tote off the floor and handing it to Adam. “We’ll be in the other room, helping Rebekah get ready.” With that, she and Abby quickly left.

“Do you know how to change one of these?” I asked Adam, anxiously.

“Are you kidding? We have to find somebody else to do this.”

“Adam, between the two of us, we have fourteen years of higher education. How hard can it be?”

“I’m not worried about how hard it is. I’m worried about how disgusting it is.”

“Well, I’m going to try. Better to practice on somebody else’s kid first.”

“Before what?” he asked, cautiously.

“I was just joking.” Suddenly, I felt very defensive.

“You’re sure your pill is working, right?”

“Yes! Don’t worry, if I ever want to have a baby it doesn’t have to be with you,” I said, sensing rejection and fighting back.

“Well, who in hell would it be with?” he asked, sounding irate.

“I don’t know. I don’t have a crystal ball.”

“I’ve got news for you, Lilith. If you’re going to be bearing anyone’s children, they’ll be mine,” he said heatedly. Suddenly, the baby started crying.

“Now look what you did,” I chastised. “You made him cry.”

“I didn’t make him cry. A shitty diaper made him cry. Now you want to take this on, I’ll take it on with you. Bring him over here,” Adam demanded, storming off with the diaper bag. I wondered vaguely if he was only talking about a diaper.

I got up and followed him as carefully as I would if I were carrying a live bomb. Adam kneeled down on the rug, opened the diaper bag, and looked at the contents like he was trying to figure out how to split the atom. As soon as I laid the little squirmy person down on the floor he stopped crying and gave Adam and me a ‘hey, you guys know what you’re doing, right?’ look.

“Okay, you get the wipes ready,” I said, steeling my nerves. “I’m going in.”

“Wait!” He grabbed my arm. “We should put something down underneath him so that we don’t ruin the rug.”

“Oh, good thinking! What should we use?”

“Well, it should be something that could be wiped off easily, like …” He looked around the room and his eyes fell on a desk in the adjacent study. He got up, ran over and grabbed something. “This will work,” he said, crouching down beside me again.

“A mouse pad?”

“Why not? He’s small enough.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll lift his legs, you slide it under him.”

“On three, one … two … three.” I lifted his teeny tiny legs a little and Adam slid the mouse pad with the picture of Einstein on it under the baby’s bottom.

“Okay, get the wipes ready,” I said again.

“Wait! What are we going to put it in?”

“The trash, no?”

“You can’t just put it in the trash. You have to seal it up in something so it doesn’t make everything smell.”

“Okay, how about ….” I got up, ran over and grabbed a padded yellow envelope from the desk where Adam had found the mouse pad.

“That should work,” he said, nodding.

“Is there anything else, before …?”

“No. I think it’s go time,” he said quietly. I took a deep breath and pulled open the tapes holding the diaper together. Gently I eased it back … “Get down!” Adam ordered, knocking me out of the way just in time to avoid the stream of urine that flew past me.

“How do you shut it off?!” I cried.

“It’s not a fire hydrant!” he answered. Luckily, it stopped on its own a second later. We sat back up cautiously.

“So much for the rug,” I said.

“Yeah, she’s probably going to want to have that steam cleaned,” he agreed. “Yo! What’s she feeding this kid? Mustard?”

“Maybe that’s just what baby poop looks like.”

“You know I could have lived happily for a long time without that knowledge.”

“Ugh, this thing is gross. We need to get it off of him. Get the wipes and the envelope ready. I guess I’ll lift and you wipe?”

“Wait, why do you get to lift?” he asked, unhappily.

“Fine, you lift.”

“Okay, let’s do this,” he said with a heavy sigh. The baby just stared at us dubiously. Adam lifted the tiny legs and I began furiously trying to clean off the baby’s bottom, shoving wipes into the envelope madly. “Will you hurry up down there?” he nagged.

“I’m going as fast as I can, God damn it!” I growled. “Okay! He’s clean. I’m removing the diaper.” I grimaced and grabbed the putrid object out from under the baby, immediately attempting to get it into the envelope. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working. I had shoved too many wipes in there.

“What the f**k are you doing?!” Adam asked frantically.

“What does ‘fuck’ mean?” asked the four-year-old voice from the doorway. Adam and I both froze.

“Uh, that’s something that …uh,” Adam spluttered.

“What are you doing, Joshie?” Hannah called out from the other room.

“Uncle Adam is telling me about f**king!” he called back. I heard something break. Probably his mother’s heart.

“Get. The. Clean. Diaper,” Adam said through gritted teeth.

Another thing we learned that evening was that diapers rip very easily. It took us several attempts, and several diapers, but with a little ingenuity, we managed to work together to get the job done. Somewhere along the journey, our poopy little friend drifted happily off to sleep.

Not long afterward, Matt came in to get his son, and told us it was time. Adam looked at the baby like he wanted to offer him a cigarette and a blindfold. As Matt and the baby left, I glanced up at Adam. He was looking pretty pale. Rebekah, like many new mothers in this situation, needed some comfort, but she was already surrounded by women. I decided that Adam needed me more than she did. The mohel got the baby ready, laying him down and lifting his gown. I saw a quizzical expression appear on his face.