CHAPTER ELEVEN — THE APPOINTMENT
Belinda’s next medical appointment was on Friday morning.
She asked Jonah if he wanted to know how it went.
He told her he did, if she felt comfortable sharing.
She called after lunch.
“The doctor says everything looks normal so far,” she said.
Jonah sat on a wooden bench outside his workshop.
“I’m glad.”
“They moved the estimated due date by a few days.”
“That happens.”
She took a breath.
“I’ve been thinking about what I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me details you haven’t decided to share.”
“I owe you the truth about whether you might be the father.”
“You already said you don’t know.”
“I should have said it when you first asked.”
“Yes.”
Silence followed.
Then Belinda said, “I was trying to make the new relationship sound certain because nothing else felt certain.”
Jonah looked across the street at a boy struggling to hold a paper kite in the wind.
“Whatever happens, don’t make decisions about the child to punish me or please Dorian.”
“I won’t.”
“Let’s handle the medical question with proper advice when the time is right.”
“Okay.”
After the call, Jonah returned to the workshop.
The brass letter he had polished that morning reflected his face in a distorted oval.
He remembered laughing at his spreadsheet title in Frances’s office.
He was glad he had renamed it.
The end of a marriage was not an operation in which one person won and the other disappeared.
He still wanted distance from Belinda.
He also wanted the child, whoever the father was, to enter a world less controlled by adults’ pride.
That evening Mallory invited him for dinner.
Her daughter painted a cardboard rocket at the kitchen table while Mallory cooked pasta.
The little girl held up her rocket and asked Jonah whether he would help it fly.
He attached a length of string and showed her how to pull it across the room.
She laughed when it slid too quickly and bumped the refrigerator.
Jonah laughed with her.
It was the first evening in weeks when laughter had not required an explanation.
CHAPTER TWELVE — THE OPEN HOUSE
Nestwell’s revised public meeting was held in a community center instead of a model facility.
A representative from each client organization attended.
Workers were offered time to ask questions before any executive presentation.
Belinda sat in the second row beside Anna Flores.
Dorian entered late and took a seat at the back.
The independent inspectors had visited six sites and produced a simple status table.
Two rooms were operational.
Two could open after minor corrections.
Two required substantial work before use.
The remaining sites were scheduled for later review.
Every status had a named inspector and a date that employees could confirm.
Rosa asked whether the companies would stop advertising unverified availability.
The client representative said yes.
Mallory asked whether workers who had relied on incorrect dates would be offered alternative scheduling support.
Her employer described a temporary arrangement funded from payments it had withheld from Nestwell.
The arrangement was limited, but it came with a contact person and a start date.
Terrell asked why workers had to organize a public meeting before anyone gave them a dependable answer.
No executive offered a satisfying reply.
Belinda stood when the moderator called her name.
She held no prepared speech.
“I helped create the progress reporting process,” she said.
“I treated construction pictures as a reliable sign that other parts of the work were being completed.”
She paused.
“I was wrong to accept that assumption.”
Dorian shifted in his chair.
Belinda continued.
“I also kept repeating opening dates after colleagues told me that those dates were not supported by the work at the sites.”
She looked toward Priya.
“Priya raised concerns I should have acted on sooner.”
Priya nodded once but did not smile.
Belinda looked toward the workers.
“I’m sorry that those choices affected your jobs and families.”
Rosa spoke from the front row.
“Will you help us get the remaining status reports?”
“Yes,” Belinda said.
“If my attorney approves the proper release process, I’ll cooperate.”
That promise was less satisfying than a grand confession.
It was also something people could hold her to.
After the meeting, Dorian approached Belinda near the coat rack.
Jonah was standing several yards away, waiting for Mallory.
He heard Dorian say, “You made yourself look guilty.”
Belinda answered, “I described what I did.”
“You think these people will reward honesty?”
“I wasn’t asking for a reward.”
Dorian saw Jonah and lowered his voice.
“You’ve been listening to him.”
Belinda stepped away.
“I’ve been listening to the people who are actually using our service.”
Dorian looked as though he wanted to say more.
Instead he walked out through the side doors.
Belinda watched him leave, then turned toward Jonah.
“Did you come for me?”
“For Mallory.”
She nodded slowly.
“That makes sense.”
They stood in the crowded hall while folding chairs scraped across the floor.
Neither reached for the other.
