He had measured the gap between the gatepost and the bins.

He had put a tab in a ring binder that said BAG.

Of all the men on earth who should have understood in advance what a woman cannot do on the day of a caesarean, it was the one who had spent five weeks working out the logistics of a stroller.

And it had simply never crossed his mind, because the plan had always had him in it.

“Who picked her up?” he said.