“Who? Lara Croft? Or one of Luis Royo’s girls?” I laugh.
“Whatever, man,” he says, crossing his arms and shaking his head, but I know it’ll take a lot more to get under his skin than that. If I didn’t screw with him he’d think something was wrong with me.
“Uncle Asher,” I say, to make up for it anyway. “It has a nice ring to it.”
He nods contemplatively and says, “Yeah, I think it does, too.”
Nancy passes our daughter to my mom next. I’ve never seen her so proud before. She keeps looking over at me and then back at the baby, back and forth.
“She’s got your nose and your lips, Andrew,” my mom says.
“And Camryn’s hair and her lungs,” I point out.
Natalie is at the foot of the bed now and she’s fidgeting, her hands down in front of her. My mom notices how anxious she is to hold her, so she kisses her new granddaughter on the head and passes her to Natalie.
“I hope you washed your hands, Nat,” Camryn says from the bed.
“I did!” Natalie says, and then ignores Camryn and starts talking to my daughter even though she’s asleep, “Oh, you are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” her voice rises a little higher the more excited she gets. Then she looks up straight at Camryn and says with a serious face, “Oh my God, I want one.”
Blake’s eyes get huge, and I think he’s stopped breathing. When I look back at him a few minutes later, he’s already made his way to stand next to Roger against the wall.
Camryn’s aunt Brenda holds her next, and then one of her cousins. After Michelle holds her for a few minutes and gushes about how beautiful she is, she places her back in Camryn’s arms. I take the chair next to Camryn against the bed again.
“So, have you decided on a name?” my mom asks.
Camryn and I look at each other, and we’re both thinking the same thing.
“Not yet,” Camryn answers, and it’s all that she says. I know I’m probably the only one in the room who sees it now that the name issue has been brought up: Camryn can’t help but think about Lily. But she lets that moment pass and kisses our baby on the cheek, so obviously proud of what she has despite what she lost.
Most of the family is gone before night falls, but our moms hang around a little longer afterward, getting to know each other. This is the first time they’ve officially met. And finally they leave, shortly before seven, just as the nurse comes into the room to check on the baby and Camryn.
When the three of us are alone again, I dim the lights in the room so that only the one near the private bathroom is on. Our daughter is sleeping soundly in Camryn’s arms. I know Camryn’s tired, completely exhausted, but she can’t bring herself to lay the baby down so she can get some sleep herself. I offered to take her so she could sleep, but she insisted she stay awake.
I watch the two of them for a moment, such a perfect moment, and then I walk over and sit down on the side of the bed next to them.
Camryn looks over at me, then back down at our sleeping angel.
“Lily,” I say simply.
Camryn looks back over at me, confused.
I nod slowly as if to say, Yes, you heard me right, and I touch our baby’s soft head again.
“Do you remember what I told you? Back in Chicago when I found the pills?”
She shakes her head no.
This time I touch Camryn’s face, tracing my fingers down one side and then the other.
“I said that Lily just wasn’t ready then.” I pause and then add with a smile, “Same soul, different body.”
Something thoughtful sparks in Camryn’s eyes. She tilts her head gently to the side, looking at me in wonder. And then she gazes down at the baby again and doesn’t look back up for what seems like forever.
When she does, tears are trailing down her cheeks. “You think so?” she asks, hopeful.
“Yeah. I do.”
She starts to cry harder and gently presses baby Lily against her breasts, rocking her. Then she looks up at me and nods several times. “Lily,” she whispers quietly and kisses the top of her head.
The next morning, I stir awake in the chair beside Camryn’s bed where I fell asleep the night before. I hear Camryn’s voice speaking quietly in the room, and like every other time before, I pretend to be asleep while she reads that letter I wrote her months ago.
38
Dear Camryn,
I know you’re scared. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little scared, too, but I have to believe that this time around everything will be fine. And it will be.
We’ve been through so much together. More than most people in such a short time. But no matter what, the one thing that has never changed is that we’re still together. Death couldn’t take me away from you. Weakness couldn’t make me look at you in a bad light. Drugs and the shit that comes with them couldn’t take you away from me, or turn you against me. I think it’s more than safe to say that we’re indestructible.
Maybe all of this has been a test. Yeah, I think about that a lot and I’ve convinced myself of it. A lot of people take Fate for granted. Some have everything they’ve ever wanted or needed right at their fingertips, but they abuse it. Others walk right past their only opportunity because they never open their eyes long enough to see that it’s there. But you and I, even before we met, took all the risks, made our own decisions without listening to everybody around us telling us, in so many ways, that what we’re doing is wrong. Hell no, we did it our way, no matter how reckless, or crazy or unconventional. It’s like the more we pushed and the more we fought, the harder the obstacles. Because we had to prove we were the real deal.
And I know we’ve done just that.
Camryn, I want you to read this letter to yourself once a week. It doesn’t matter what day or what time, just read it. Every time you open it, I want you to see that another week has passed and you’re still pregnant. That I’m still in good health. That we’re still together. I want you to think about the three of us, you, me and our son or daughter, traveling Europe and South America. Just picture it. Because we’re going to do it. I promise you that.
You’re everything to me, and I want you to stay strong and not let your fear of the past taint the path to our future. Everything will work out this time, Camryn, everything will, I swear to you.
Just trust me.
Until next week…
Love,
Andrew
I look up from the letter in my hand, letting it rest on the bed at my side, clasped in my fingertips. Lily is sound asleep next to me in the hospital bassinet. It took some convincing by Andrew before I finally agreed to lay her in it instead of just holding her throughout the night. But I did wake up often to check if she was still breathing. I check again now. I can’t help it; I’ll probably do that for months.
Finally, I fold Andrew’s letter again into the same worn creases. He probably thinks that I’ll stop reading it now that Lily has been born. But I won’t. I never stopped reading the first letter he ever wrote me, but he doesn’t know that. Some things I keep to myself.
“Ready to put those destinations into that hat?” Andrew asks.
I wonder how long he’s been awake. I look over at him and smile. “Let’s wait a few months.”
He nods and rises from the chair.
“How did you sleep like that?” I ask. “You should’ve gotten on the couch.” I glance at the small couch next to the window.
Andrew stretches his arms out at his sides and then pops his back and his neck. He doesn’t answer.
“I guess we can finally get all of that stuff from the first baby shower at my mom’s and bring it to the house,” I say.
Andrew smiles mischievously.
“Wait… you already did it, didn’t you?”
He stands up and stretches some more. “Technically, not me. Yesterday, Natalie, Blake, and your mom took everything over there after we left for the hospital and they’ve already set it all up.”
I never wanted
to do that during the pregnancy. It was just another way of worrying about getting ahead of myself and then miscarry all over again. Same reason I refused to know the sex of the baby before she was born. I didn’t want to focus or depend on any of that stuff like I did before. I thought it might jinx it. Andrew didn’t really agree with it, but he never said anything or tried to convince me otherwise.
“And, as you can probably imagine,” he goes on, “since Michelle and my mom are in town, there’s a lot more than just the baby shower gifts waiting for you when you get home.”
* * *
The next day, when Andrew opens the front door of our house and I walk in with Lily in my arms, I see right away that he was right about that, too. The house is immaculate. I never could’ve cleaned it like this myself. As Andrew walks me through the living room toward the hallway, I glimpse one baby monitor on the kitchen bar as I walk by, one on the living room coffee table, one on the counter in the bathroom, and, finally, one in Lily’s room when I step inside.
I gasp with wide eyes. “Oh wow, Andrew, look what they did!”
Lily stirs in my arms, probably from the excitement in my voice, but quickly she becomes still again.
The baby bed is set against one wall with a cute Winnie the Pooh musical mobile hovering over the top. A matching chest of drawers and changing table sits against the wall by the window. Andrew opens the drawers to reveal that each one is full of clothes and receiving blankets and burp cloths and little socks and other various things. He opens the closet and I see dozens of little dresses and outfits. So many packages of diapers are stacked against the wall near the changing table that I feel like we’ll never have to buy diapers ourselves. Of course, I know that’s just wishful thinking.
Andrew takes me back out into the hall and opens the closet next to the bathroom to show me the brand-new walker and baby swing and some strange play-gym thing, all still in the boxes they came in.
“I’ll have to put them together when she’s ready for them,” he says. “But that’ll be a little while.”
“Think you can manage that all by yourself?” I joke.
He raises his chin and says, “Without even reading the directions.”
I just laugh inside.
Then he takes me into our room. There’s a white bassinet next to the bed on my side.
“I bought that for you,” he says, smiling proudly. “I know you won’t be ready to put her in the room by herself for a long time, so I figured you’d need it.”
He’s blushing. I step right up to him and kiss the side of his mouth. “You were right,” I say. “Thank you.”
Lily starts to stir again, and this time she wakes up. Andrew takes her from me. “I’ll change her,” he says.
I pass her over and lie down across our bed and watch him. He lays her down on our bed, too, and unwraps her from the receiving blankets. The cutest yet loudest cries come from her tiny lungs. Her little arms and legs move stiffly back and forth. Her whole head turns beet red. But Andrew doesn’t flinch. And when he opens her diaper he doesn’t gross out at the surprise she left him. I admit I’m surprised at how easily he’s already taken to being a daddy.
* * *
I started back at Bath and Body Works after my maternity leave was over, but now I’m only on a part-time shift. My boss, Janelle, is awesome, and she likes me so much that she gave me a one-dollar raise when I told her I was expecting. Only me and Natalie work there now; Natalie is full-time and she picks up a lot of my slack since I’ve been off the past six weeks. But she doesn’t mind. Says she’s saving for a place of her own. She and Blake seem to be really be into each other every time I see them together. Truthfully, I’ve never seen Natalie this happy before. I thought she was happy when she was with Damon, but I’m realizing all that must’ve been was tolerance and low self-esteem. Blake is different. I think they just might make it.
Andrew has been working for an auto body and mechanic shop since about three weeks after we moved into our house. His knowledge of cars really earned him a great spot on the payroll. He’s definitely making way more money than me, but he tries to make me feel better about that by saying: “This ain’t shit compared to you pushing my baby girl through your—” I stop him right there each time.
Not necessary, Andrew. But thanks!
Child care is pretty much only for rich people, in my opinion. Honestly, I don’t see how anyone working a minimum-wage job can afford child care. They’d be working just to pay it, which makes no sense. But aside from that, Andrew and I both agreed that we don’t want to leave our daughter in the care of strangers, anyway. So, I worked it out with Janelle that I work only part-time shifts in the evenings when Andrew is home and every other weekend.
We’ve been living well and pulling everything off as though we’ve been doing it this way our whole lives. We may have six figures in savings, but we are no strangers to putting back as much as we can from our earnings and spending as little as possible. Other than our day jobs, Andrew and I have been playing gigs pretty consistently, every other Saturday night when I’m not working, at a bar that Blake’s brother Rob opened up in town. Something happened with the Underground and Rob had to shut it down. Rumor is that Rob narrowly avoided a jail sentence. I’m guessing it had to do with him not having a bar license, I don’t know. But Blake is manager of the new bar now, and on the nights that Andrew and I perform there we get half of the cover charge, which is more than we’ve ever made playing at any bar other than Aidan’s. Last Saturday, we raked in eight hundred bucks.
It’s just more cash flow for our savings and our future plans to go wherever that hat tells us to go.
And although Andrew will always put his heart and soul into every performance, like he always has, I can tell now that when we’re up on that stage together that he just can’t wait to be finished so we can pick Lily up from my mom, or whoever is lucky enough to have her for those few hours at night.
Andrew is so great with Lily. He never ceases to amaze me. He gets up in the middle of the night about as much as I do to change her diapers, and sometimes he even stays awake with me when I feed her. He has his guy moments, too, so he’s not entirely Mr. Perfect. Apparently, he’s not fully immune to crappy diapers, and just this morning I caught him gagging while trying to change her. I laughed, but I felt so bad for him that I couldn’t help but take over. He left the room with the neck of his shirt pulled over his mouth and nose.
And… well, I don’t really want to get too ahead of myself with the assumption, but I think Lily may have softened Andrew so much that he might actually like Natalie now. Maybe just a little. I don’t know, but whenever Nat is over, holding Lily and making Lily smile by talking to her with that animated personality of hers, Andrew seems OK with it. By the time Lily is three months old, I honestly can’t remember the last time Andrew called Natalie a hyena behind her back, or gave me that exasperated look when he knew she wasn’t looking.
He still cringes when she refers to herself as Lily’s godmother, but… baby steps. He’ll come around.
39
February 9—Lily’s first birthday
“Aidan and Michelle are here!” I hear Camryn say from the living room.
I fasten the last button on the back of Lily’s dress and then take her by the hand. But she doesn’t like it when I hold her hand and always wiggles it away and grasps my index finger instead.
“Let’s go, baby girl,” I say looking down at her. “Uncle Aidan and Aunt Michelle are here to see the birthday girl.”
I swear she knows what I’m saying.
She squeezes my finger as tight as she can, giggles, and takes one big step forward, as if I’m not fast enough to keep up. With my back arched over, I take fast half steps as we shuffle down the hallway, letting her run on her chunky little baby legs out ahead of me. When she starts to fall as she rounds the corner, I grip her hand, lift her slightly off her feet, and let her get her balance again. She started walking at ten months old. Her first word w
as “Mama” at six months. At seven months she said “Dada,” and I melted when I heard her call me that the first time.
And Camryn was right—she’s got my green eyes.
“Lily!” Michelle says all dramatic-like, squatting down to Lily’s level and wrapping her up in her wide arms. “Oh my goodness, you’re so big!” She kisses her cheeks and her forehead and her nose, and Lily cackles uncontrollably. “Nom nom nom!” Michelle adds, pretending to eat her cheeks.
I look over at Aidan, who has my nephew, Avery, attached to his hip. I reach out for him, but he’s shy and recoils toward Aidan’s chest. I back off, hoping he doesn’t start crying. Aidan tries to coax him.
“Is he walking yet?” Camryn asks, standing next to me.
Michelle follows Lily into the living room where a plethora of pink and purple helium balloons are pressed against the ceiling. When Lily realizes she can’t reach the balloons, she gives up and goes straight over to her stack of presents on the floor.
Aidan hands two wrapped gifts to Camryn, and we all join Michelle and Lily in the living room. Camryn sets the gifts next to the others.
“He’s been trying,” Aidan answers about Avery’s walking progress. “He holds on to the couch and walks alongside it, but he hasn’t quite got the urge to let go yet.”
“God, he looks just like you, bro,” I say. “Poor kid.”
Aidan would punch me in the gut if his arms were free.
“He’s adorable,” Camryn says as she reaches out to take him.
Of course he is, but I have to mess with my brother.
Avery looks at her like she’s crazy at first, but then gets me back for talking crap about his daddy by going straight to Camryn with no problem.
Aidan laughs.
Nancy and Roger, Natalie and Blake, Sarah and her boyfriend, who already has a kid from an ex-girlfriend, all show up practically at the same time. Afterward, our next door neighbors, Mason and Lori, a young married couple with a two-year-old, show up with gifts. Lily, being the little show-off she is, bends over with her hands and head on the carpet, sticking her diaper-covered butt in the air. Then she pretends to fall down and says “Uh-oh,” to everyone’s laughter.
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