The Choices We Make by Karma Brown Page A

probably have at least a few healthy ones left.” She winked and smiled, and I smiled back, feeling infinitely more relaxed.
    â€œI’m considering doing something and I wanted to get your medical opinion before I say anything to anyone else. Is that okay?”
    â€œThat’s what I’m here for,” Dr. Kadari said. “So tell me, what is it you want to do?”

16
    KATE
    â€œI saw Dr. Kadari today,” I said, holding hands with David while we walked a few paces behind the girls. We had promised them after-dinner ice cream if they did their homework first, and we were on our way to make good on that promise.
    â€œOh, yeah? How is she?” David’s middle finger traced small circles on my palm, which tickled but not enough to pull my hand away.
    â€œGood. Same. Tiny. Still with that perfect hair.” I sighed, running my other hand across my own hair, which was due for a wash.
    David laughed watching me. “I hope you’re not thinking of pulling that coconut oil out again.”
    â€œI gave that to Hannah ages ago. Apparently it’s great for baking.”
    â€œI thought you just saw Dr. Kadari a few months ago?”
    â€œI did,” I began, pausing to yell at the girls to stop at the edge of the sidewalk.
    â€œThey always stop, you know.” David pulled my hand up to kiss it. “I think soon you might be able to let that one go.”
    â€œAs soon as you stop cutting their grapes and hot dogs, I’ll stop this.” I nodded and gestured forward with my other hand when the girls yelled there were no cars. “But, yeah, I saw her a few months ago for my annual. Today was for something different.”
    â€œEverything okay?” David’s tone was unconcerned, confident that if something was wrong, I’d have told him about it before now.
    â€œYup.”
    â€œGood.”
    There was a lull, and I ran over in my head how to say what I wanted to say. It all felt so complicated, what had happened with Hannah and Lyla, and after spending three painful hours watching Hannah sit and nurse one glass of wine at the bar, I had made a decision.
    Before I could go any further with it, I needed to talk to David. But I couldn’t think of how to appropriately express Hannah’s devastation so he would see this was a good option—the best option, if you asked me.
    We were minutes away from the ice-cream shop, and I needed to get it out before we sat down and ordered.
    â€œI could help her, you know.”
    David glanced over at me as we walked, but I kept my eyes straight ahead on the girls—who were jumping over the sidewalk cracks and singing some song I was too far away to hear.
    â€œHelp who? Dr. Kadari?”
    â€œNo, not Dr. Kadari. Hannah. I could help Hannah.”
    â€œWhat do you mean? Help her how?” David asked, now thoroughly confused.
    â€œI could carry a baby for her.”
    David stopped walking so fast I didn’t have time to adjust my stride, and my hand ripped out of his. I glanced between him and the girls, who had reached the ice-cream shop and were sitting at one of the tables on the patio—swinging their legs the way young girls filled with an abundance of energy do when forced to sit still.
    He watched me, saying nothing, but I knew he was trying to figure out how to respond. A second later he took the two steps forward to reach my side, then grabbed my hand and pulled me forward a little too hard, toward the girls.
    â€œNo,” he said, walking a step ahead of me even though he was still holding my hand.
    â€œNo?” I responded, this time being the one to stop and pulling my hand purposefully out of his. I’m sure the girls were wondering what the hell we were doing, all the stopping and starting in the middle of the sidewalk.
    â€œNo,” he said again, hands going deep into his jeans front pockets, his shoulders rolling forward the way they did when he was angry.
    I tried not