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" I visited Gabby today after work, bringing her a plate of banana pancakes and turkey sausage \u2014 her favorite. She was sitting up in bed doing a watercolor painting on an easel everyone at work had pitched in to get her. I&amp;#039;d asked Gabby what she wanted to do with all her free time, and she said she wanted to learn to paint. So we got her a painting set and lessons from a local artist who made house calls.  Today she was drawing a picture of a dolphin in the sea. Or it might have been a dinosaur. I don&amp;#039;t know. She&amp;#039;s a terrible artist.  &amp;quot;I missed you,&amp;quot; she said. &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s been so incredibly boring here, and how much Oprah can a person watch? I need someone around who can make me laugh.&amp;quot;  I sat down across from her and watched her paint. &amp;quot;I can&amp;#039;t stay long, unfortunately.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;She&amp;#039;s still feeling threatened?&amp;quot;  I didn&amp;#039;t answer. It was an awkward situation. I was spending more free time with Gabby than I was with Blythe, and we both knew it really bothered her. At the same time, Blythe knows Gabby needs company, so she doesn&amp;#039;t want to be the evil girlfriend.  &amp;quot;Honestly, it&amp;#039;s not like I&amp;#039;m gonna jump your bones in my condition,&amp;quot; Gabby continued. &amp;quot;Even if I wanted to, I couldn&amp;#039;t. Strict orders from Dr. Cho. No intercourse! That&amp;#039;s what she calls it.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;How&amp;#039;s the little guy today?&amp;quot; I asked, changing the subject.  Gabby thinks she&amp;#039;s having a boy and has been running a bunch of names by me \u2014 Ramsey, Odin, Leo \u2014 all which I hate, so I&amp;#039;ve taken to calling him Little Man until she gets some sense.  &amp;quot;He&amp;#039;s sucking his thumb now.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You saw that in the sonogram?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;No \u2014 I read it in a book. And his eyes have moved to the front of his face.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;That&amp;#039;s a good place for them to be.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;How about the name Jebediah?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Are you giving birth to an Amish child?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s Hebrew, dummy. It means friend of God.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Everyone would call him Jeb. Or Jebby. Or Je-mama. Kids can be really cruel. How about Scott? Now, that&amp;#039;s a guy&amp;#039;s name. Or Jack or Max.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;What about Zach?&amp;quot;  I laughed nervously. As she said it, she made long, lingering, eye contact that made me very uncomfortable.  &amp;quot;Only losers have that name. Except for my little nephew, of course. I mean name him what you want. I just don&amp;#039;t think Zach is very masculine, blah blah blah.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m kidding. Jeesh. Calm down.&amp;quot;  I got up and stretched my legs. &amp;quot;I am calm. Totally mell-ow.&amp;quot;  Gabby went back to painting, a little I gotcha grin across her face. Then she stopped as if something I said just registered. &amp;quot;I can never call him Scott. Do you understand? Never.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Aye, aye, Scotty.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Don&amp;#039;t even joke about that.&amp;quot;  She stopped and began to put her brushes away. &amp;quot;You should go now. Blythe is probably wondering where you are, and I need to eat.&amp;quot;  I grabbed my coat and gave her a kiss on the cheek. But she&amp;#039;d gone dark, like a light in her just been switched off. I&amp;#039;d seen this happen to her a few times, and it was creepy to watch. Not knowing how to handle it, I didn&amp;#039;t. &amp;quot;Get some rest,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ll see you tomorrow.&amp;quot;  As I walked to the door, she called my name, so I turned. Her eyes had welled up.  &amp;quot;Scotty,&amp;quot; she said. &amp;quot;That&amp;#039;s his father&amp;#039;s name. Scotty.&amp;quot; "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.redbookmag.com/love-sex/mens-perspective/a2625/diary-he-021308/>