“I love the hospital bag,” Derek said when the nurse left. “It’s the only time I get to eat salt and vinegar potato chips. Want anything?”
Summer laughed. “My junk foodie, reformed, until he relapses when we hit L and D. No, thanks. I packed cookies but I’ll have some later. I’m going to take a little nap. With my beautiful toenails.”
As she drifted back and forth between consciousness and sleep, Summer half-dreamed, significant moments rising to the surface like bubbles.
There was the first time she saw Derek in a pair of Wranglers. Not coincidentally, they’d had sex for the first time that same evening. The weather was brutally hot, so hot it seemed like the air was sweating. She rode her bike up to his house, and he didn’t hear her approach.
Those Wranglers hugged his backside, and his bare back looked so muscular, especially as covered with sweat as it was, that she couldn’t help but stare. She forgot she was riding her bike, and the front tire hit a piece of firewood that hadn’t made it to the wood pile. The impact launched her over the handlebars, and she landed flat on her back.
Of course, the sound of the crash was enough to get Derek’s attention, and he turned around just in time to see her flipping through the air. As she laid there on her back, blinking into the hot, blinding sun, he stood over her, looking like some kind of god.
“Wow,” she breathed.
He’d laughed then, a loud, raucous laugh that made her fall in love with him that very instant. Then he’d pulled her to her feet, kissed her gently on the mouth, and picked up her bike.
Now, a decade and-a-half—and five children—later, the nurse came in to check her, and smiled. “You’ll have this baby in your arms within the hour.”
Summer nodded and looked over at Derek, who was watching her, staring right at her, his open book apparently forgotten on his lap.
He’s so damned sexy. I wonder whatever happened to those Wranglers.
She smiled at him and fell back into her half-conscious state.
There was the moment Summer realized she couldn’t allow herself to care whether Willow was in her life. She wouldn’t care. She refused to.
It was the day Summer and Derek shared their first kiss. Summer came home jubilant. She could feel her own skin glowing, her body pulsing with this new, sparkly, magical feeling. He kissed her once more at the front door, his fingertips resting above the ear behind which he’d just tucked a strand of her hair.
She wanted to laugh and cry and dance all at the same time. So when she walked through the door after watching him drive away, she felt like she might burst if she didn’t tell someone. Naturally, Willow was the first person she wanted to tell.
But Willow was only half-coherent. She laid on the couch, eyes mostly closed. So Summer did an about face and walked right out the door. She rode her bike to Josie’s house. Josie called Delaney, and Josie’s mom, Carla, made them all cookies while Summer talked nonstop about Derek and the kiss.
She wanted, more than anything, for her own mother to make her cookies and sit across the table from her, eyes twinkling with empathy and excitement and amusement and probably memories, too. But it was at that moment, when Carla reached over and squeezed her hand, that Summer knew she had to stop relying on Willow for anything.
A mother’s impact on her children isn’t in the big moments, Summer thought then. It’s in the small moments. Summer didn’t care if Willow showed up at chess tournaments or bought her that first box of tampons. She didn’t care if her mom walked her into school on the first day or even showed up at high school graduation.
But she craved her mother’s attention like Derek’s pet goats craved petting. She wanted her mother to ask how her day was, to get to know her best friends, to sit and talk after school or watch movies on the weekends.
But just like Derek’s goats bumped their heads up against her hip over and over again when she visited the Grays’ house, Summer bumped against Willow’s disinterest over and over and over.
Summer came back into full consciousness wondering how she would fail this new baby, and all her other children.
Don’t we all fail our children somehow?
When Sarah, Nate, Luke, Hannah and this new baby had their own families, what would they recall about her parenting? Probably that she never let them drink soda. Or that she made them eat pasta made out of vegetables rather than regular pasta.
“What will they remember about me?” she asked Derek.
“That you loved them.”
He always said the right things.
***
The baby was born at seven fifty-nine p.m.
She came out screaming and bright pink, and Summer blinked back tears of laughter at the intensity of her new daughter’s anger.
“It’s so nice to meet you out here,” she said to the baby, who quieted the moment the nurse set her on Summer’s chest.
Derek leaned over to look at the baby, and Summer shifted her so he could see her face. “She’s so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing first Summer’s forehead and then the baby’s. “What shall we name her?”
“Xena, Warrior Princess?” Summer said.
“She has the lungs for it,” one of the nurses said.
Summer tucked the blanket under the baby’s chin so she could see her face. She had Sarah’s pointy ears and Nate’s cat-like eyes.
“How about Olivia?” Derek said.
“That’s cute,” Summer said. “I’ll think on it.”
When the nurses left, Derek sat down in his chair with a huge sigh.
“Wow. It’s almost like you just gave birth,” Summer said.
He laughed. “I don’t know why, I was nervous this time. I’m always a little nervous, but you’ve been acting so … I don’t know, so strangely.”
Shit. “I have?”
“Cleaning the grout on the kitchen counters with your fingertip? Scraping it with your fingernails? You don’t usually do that stuff, even when you’re nesting.”
“I did that?” Summer knew she’d done it. She’d been so disgusted when she realized she could scrape a yellowish film off the grout even after spraying the crap out of it with her vinegar cleaner and wiping it until the paper towels disintegrated. She couldn’t bring a new baby home to that yellow film. And she certainly couldn’t bring a heart surgery patient home to that yellow film. She didn’t say any of this to Derek, though. He’d think she was crazy.
“See?” he said.
“I’m fine,” Summer said. “Just a bit anxious lately, that’s all. Just keeping the germs down.”
“Well, I’m still keeping a careful eye on you,” Derek said. He stood up. “Do you think I can hold that baby now?”
“I suppose.”
She transferred the swaddled, sleeping baby into Derek’s arms and he returned to his chair. “Olivia. Do you like that name?” He waited for a moment, and then looked up at Summer. “She said yes.”
“I like it, too,” Summer said.
They sat in silence for a while, Derek staring at the baby’s face and Summer staring at the two of them. She wondered what the kids would think of the baby. Sarah would undoubtedly fawn over her, wanting to hold her and pointing out every little thing she did as, “like, the cutest thing ever.”
The boys would be ambivalent until she could sword fight. They’d only just taken an interest in Hannah. She smiled as she pictured Hannah toddling around, waving a sword that was longer than she was tall.
Not for the first time, guilt made a sneaky appearance. Throughout this pregnancy, she had repeatedly questioned whether having another child was the right choice. Five was a lot. With four, each parent could wrangle two children. But five? Wow.
Although, Summer thought, Sarah was practically self-sufficient, and she didn’t need much wrangling. Nate, too. Luke would need a lot of attention in the coming weeks, though. And Hannah. She was still a baby, herself.
A new wave of anxiety combined with lack of sleep and the tail end of the adrenaline ru
sh to make Summer very tired all of a sudden.
“I think I should nurse that baby and then get some sleep,” she said to Derek.
He kissed Olivia’s rosy cheek and handed her to Summer.
“Do you still want me to go home tonight?” he asked.
“Yeah, I think we should let Delaney and Josie off the hook, don’t you?”
He nodded. “Although, I can see what you mean about the vacation. It’s so quiet here.”
They laughed. He kissed her on the forehead and said, “Well done, my beautiful birthing machine.”
Then she was alone with her new, tiny baby, full of renewed hope and a growing fear.
***
Because Summer knew Olivia was their last baby, she felt an overwhelming need to memorize every single detail, to burn each one onto her brain with laser precision. The tug of the baby’s mouth at her breast. The way she opened and closed her hand on Summer’s ribcage as she nursed. The sounds she made, little piggy grunts. The way her long eyelashes laid against her cheek and her itsy bitsy, wrinkled feet curled up. And that new baby smell.
Summer felt the tears on her cheeks before she realized she was crying.
After the births of the other four children, Summer had thought about Willow, but only very briefly. Now, though, thanks to Willow’s recent reappearance in her life, questions came unbidden into her mind.
Had Willow wanted Summer? Had she admired her for hours the way Summer admired each of her children after birth? Had she wondered whether Summer would grow up to be a veterinarian or a musician or an artist? Had she felt this overwhelming, almost suffocating feeling of hope that Summer would find happiness?
Or had she felt detached and distant?
You could always ask her, Winter breathed in her ear.
Summer didn’t want to ask Willow. She didn’t even want to speak to her.
Olivia nursed away, making her little grunty noises. Summer pulled the little blue-and-pink striped cap off her head to look at her hair. Now that it was dry, it looked the same color as a brand new penny. She’d always wondered if she’d have a redhead. Red hair ran in Derek’s family, but so far, the kids had all gotten Summer’s white-blonde.
She grinned and stroked the soft, downy hair. “What a surprise, Miss Olivia,” she said.
After a little while, she put the baby back in the bassinet and laid down to take a nap. It didn’t really matter, she thought, whether Willow had experienced these same feelings. What mattered was that Summer did. What mattered was that Summer’s children knew she loved them, more than anything else in the world. Well, along with their Daddy. With the faces of Derek and her children clear in her mind’s eye, Summer fell into a deep sleep.
***
The dream-memories came and went all night long, and every time Summer fully awoke, she felt disappointed morning hadn’t yet arrived. During a three a.m. nursing session, her head bobbed her out of a vision of giving birth to Sarah, how scared and elated she and Derek had both been, and how they’d been so proud at the hospital. Their first child, their daughter, was perfect. She nursed like a champ, went limp with sleep every time someone held her, and didn’t make a peep.
Driving home from the hospital, Summer sat in the back seat with Sarah, the baby’s fist curled around her index finger.
“I know it’s just a reflex,” Summer said to Derek, watching his eyes in the rearview mirror. “But I feel like she’s holding my finger because she loves me.”
“She does love you,” he said. “You’re her mommy. Little girls adore their mommies.”
Then they’d gotten home and Sarah had screamed her perfect head off around the clock. Derek and Summer had been so wildly in love with Sarah, they hadn’t minded the screaming at all. They took turns pacing the house with their bundle, singing, “The Cat Came Back” every single night for the first six weeks.
Miraculously, the crying stopped. Something just clicked. Nate, Luke and Hannah had been so much easier, but Summer never forgot those first six weeks of Sarah’s life.
At four a.m., Summer jerked out of a surreal half-dream about her mother sitting on the couch, holding Olivia and orchestrating some kind of weird marching band with the older kids.
At ten minutes after five, it was a crystal clear memory of Derek walking towards her, his grin as wide as the Arizona sky. Where were they? Why was he smiling like that? She wasn’t sure. But she was sure about how she felt at that moment. Her body vibrated with pure joy. Laughter wanted to bubble its way up to the surface. She wanted to run to him. But something stopped her.
At six, she ordered breakfast with a cup of coffee and admired her new daughter while she waited.
Olivia was definitely a redhead, which at once terrified and excited Summer. Her toenails were shaped exactly like Derek’s, rounding over the tops of her toes. Her nose turned just slightly down at the tip, like Luke’s.
What if God, or the Universe, or whomever, had given her Olivia as a kind of consolation gift for taking Luke away? Summer pushed the thought out of her mind and tried to place Olivia’s mouth. It wasn’t quite like Derek’s, with the full lower lip and small upper lip. It wasn’t like her own, a kind of permanent smile.
It was really familiar, though.
Someone knocked on the door before she could place it. Breakfast. And coffee. When the orderly left, it hit Summer: Olivia’s mouth looked exactly like Willow’s. Of course it would. It was a beautiful little mouth, full and round like a pouty little “O,” but for goodness sake. Couldn’t the child have gotten her mouth from someone else?
Summer sighed.
Olivia’s chin looked exactly like Nate’s, and her hands were blocky like Sarah’s.
“You’ll never be a pianist,” Summer told her. “But that’s okay. Pianist is a weird word anyway.”
Olivia didn’t seem to mind and Summer decided she was an easygoing child.
A nurse came in to take Olivia to the nursery for an exam—“Dr. Thibedeau is here so we’re lining all the babies up!” she said with way too much cheer in her voice—and Summer showered.
The other kids would be here soon, and she wanted to look nice for them.
***
Derek texted Summer an hour later: The kids are anxious to meet their new baby sister. Can we come over?
Summer responded: She’s anxious to meet them, too. :)
They arrived in a cacophony of lightsaber sounds and squealing, squeaking of shoes on the tile floor and loud big sister “Shh” noises. You can always tell when the Gray family shows up.
Within seconds, Summer was surrounded by her five children. Hannah clambered right onto Summer’s lap with no regard for the baby, and Sarah squeezed in next to Summer. The boys sat on their knees on either side of Summer’s legs. While Hannah squeezed Summer’s cheeks, saying, “I MISS you, Mama,” over and over again, Sarah stroked Olivia’s head and the boys leaned forward to peer at her. Summer looked over their heads at Derek, who smiled back.
“You know,” he said, “I think I’ll just run over to Rowdy’s and have a drink. You got the kids? I’ll be right back.”
It was probably lack of sleep that made them both laugh uncontrollably at this. The kids looked at Summer, stunned, as tears rolled down her cheeks and her voice leaked out of her like helium being let out of a balloon.
“You’re hysterical. I’ve seen this before.” A nurse walked in, and stood in the doorway. “Any parents who pass the three-kid mark always end up hysterical at some point.”
This only made Summer and Derek laugh harder.
“Beautiful family,” the nurse said, looking at each of the kids in turn. “I’ll come back in a little bit. Seems like you’re doing fine.”
Summer managed to stop laughing and call, “Thank you,” as the nurse walked away.
It was only then that Summer noticed Hannah wasn’t wearing shoes. With the exception of Sarah, the entire family looked like it had just walked out of the apocalypse.
All three of the younger kid
s’ hair stood straight out from the backs of their heads, tangled from sleep. Hannah and Luke had peanut butter smeared on their cheeks. Nate had a toothpaste stain on the front of his shirt, and holes in the knees of his jeans.
“Did you even look at these children before you brought them out of the house?” she asked Derek, and a fresh wave of giggles overtook them.
“They’ve lost it,” Nate said, and Sarah nodded sagely. Luke added, “She’s always said we’ll send her to the looney bin, but I think it’s safe to blame the breakdown on the new baby.”
“It’s already happening,” Derek said. “Olivia’s going to get blamed for everything.”
Summer kissed the baby’s head. “Want to hold her?” she asked Sarah, who nodded and laid Olivia against her shoulder.
With the extra room on her mother’s lap, Hannah spread out, laid back and closed her eyes. The boys scooted closer to Sarah. Luke pulled Olivia’s hat off and the big kids gasped.
“Red hair!” Sarah said. “I love it. That’s so cute! It’s, like, the cutest thing ever!”
“There’s a girl in my class with red hair,” Nate said. He seemed to have more to say, but he shut his mouth and looked down at his hands.
“And?” Derek said.
“And she’s always getting in trouble,” Nate said. “I heard Mrs. Ranger talking to the librarian about how she’s a handful because she has red hair. And the librarian said, ‘Well, you know how redheads are.’”
Summer and Derek looked at each other. Derek shrugged, so Summer shrugged, too.
“Well, I guess we’ll find out,” she said. She tried to keep her voice light, but she couldn’t shake the tiny bit of uneasiness that crept in.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Derek took the kids home after about a half hour, Summer felt like she could float in the silence. She immediately felt remorse at that thought, and was grateful when the nurse interrupted Winter’s scathing remarks.
The Motherhood Intervention: Book 3 in the Intervention Series Page 8