Excerpt from The Kindest Lie by Nancy Johnson, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Dr. Joshi laughed and opened her arms as if she were presenting them with a gift. "Well, you should both know there's nothing to worry about. The IUD is like any other form of contraception. Once you stop using it, you can very well conceive on your first cycle."

Ruth lay back and her slender fingers pressed on her flat belly. She pictured it swollen and taut the way it had been once. Back then, her body had resembled a string bean smuggling a basketball under its shirt.

She shivered at the memory. Her nakedness on the table made her feel like a slab of meat, a specimen to be studied and talked about, and she crossed her arms over her flowered gown, drawing her knees up to her chest. She thought back to when she was seventeen, with Mama and Eli looking down on her half-naked body in the bed, their faces tight with worry, urging her to push.
Every sensation seemed magnified now. Xavier's hand squeezing hers. Then the speculum, hard and cold, entering her vagina. The tensing of her muscles. She had felt secure for years knowing the IUD was inside her. A shield protecting her from another pregnancy she wasn't ready for.

It was funny how on paper you could feel prepared for something, yet on the inside you felt anything but. Xavier had recently been promoted to vice president at PepsiCo, and she worked as a chemical engineer at a consumer-packaged-goods company. Their financial adviser had assured them their investment portfolio was on track. And now that they'd bought a town house, they could build equity and take advantage of tax deductions. Almost every box had been checked, and the only task left incomplete was to grow their family.

"Just breathe," Dr. Joshi said. "I'm looking for the strings." The cold instrument pulled and stretched her vaginal walls. "Okay, got them."

With her eyes closed, Ruth balled her fists as the IUD slid through the opening of her cervix. She sighed loudly, not realizing she'd been holding her breath. When her eyes fluttered open, she saw Xavier's smile hovering over her and then felt Dr. Joshi prying her fingers open to press ibuprofen into her hand.

"You did just fine." Xavier brushed her twists off her forehead so he could kiss her. A look passed between her husband and her doctor, one of satisfaction, as if they were in cahoots and some long-ago-conceived plan had finally come together.


On the train ride home, Ruth wrapped her arms around her stomach. The el careened around a sharp turn, its roar and rumble vibrating inside her, aggravating her cramps.

Xavier said, "You know we'd kill the parenting game, right?" He nudged her with his thigh. "Our first son should be Xavier Jr. Carry on my name."

Ruth swallowed her unease and played along. "Mmm. And if it's a girl, how about Xena?"

Xavier frowned. "What kind of name is Xena?"

"Xena, the Warrior Princess? Hello? Any girl of mine will be a fighter. She needs a fierce name."

"Okay, if we're going the cinematic route, let's go real old school. When we have our second and third daughters, every one of them will just be Madame X. Kind of like George Foreman naming all his kids George."

Ruth punched his arm lightly. "First of all, what makes you think I'm birthing all these babies? And if I'm doing nine months of hard labor, the baby will have some variation of my name."

"As long as none of the boys is named Rufus, I'm cool," he said.

Up until now, their discussions about children resembled the way they talked about taking a trip to Antarctica. It made for good dinner table conversation, but they never called a travel agent or booked a flight. But this time, when Xavier slung his strong arm around her shoulders, she pictured those arms guiding their child's swing of a baseball bat or pushing a little one off on a two-wheel bike for the first time.

"We can do this, babe," he said. "It's time."

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the window, letting those fantasies marinate, when a commotion at the front of the train forced them both to sit up in their seats.

Excerpted from The Kindest Lie by Nancy Johnson. Copyright © 2021 by Nancy Johnson. Excerpted by permission of William Morrow. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.