“You like that?” she asked. Lady, I thought, I would eat that with my fingers from the cleft of your buttocks.“Sounds great,” I replied.“Ton...ght?” she asked nervously. I looked at her for clarification. “You not busy?” she continued. Was I dreaming or was she inviting me to eat with her?“I'm not busy,” I stumbled.“My apartment,” she said quietly, averting her eyes as if she had made a mistake but it was too late to change it.“I would love to,” I said, picking up the baton of positivity.“Which. So they anesthetized her and shooed me unceremoniously out to the waiting room, where I spent the next forty-five minutes in a real stew. Suddenly the baby was a very secondary consideration; I'd come in with a wife, and I damn well wanted to leave with one, baby notwithstanding. Serious surgery wasn't something I'd bargained for, and it scared me silly.It turned out, when I checked days after the fact with Spook, that my worries had been needless. At one time in history, it seemed, C-sections. More

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