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He shrugs. “I like it better down here.”
That’s as good a reason as any, I suppose. I sink to the floor.
He lets out a long groan, focused on the scattered papers.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I hate Janie’s math notes,” he complains. “They’re so hard to read.”
I crane my neck and notice all the doodles in the margins of her notes. Hearts. Stars. Stick figure cats sipping milk and prancing on rooftops. Her messy scrawl contrasts Moffy’s neat handwriting. They’ve been trading notes since they started second grade.
Jane makes better grades in math and science, but she dislikes the reading portion. According to Moffy, Jane doesn’t like the books they assign. So he helps her with the reading and writing. I thought it’d been going well.
Yesterday he told us that he can’t wait for third grade. Apparently that’s where all the big kids are. With a summer birthday, we could’ve chosen to start him early instead of late. I don’t regret our decision. He might be the oldest in his class, but he’s also excelling. It’s more than I can say for Lo and me at eight-years-old. Or really…ever.
School was not our thing.
“Maybe you should ask Jane to write more legibly,” I suggest.
He nods. “I’ll try.” He outstretches one of his legs, his textbook slipping off his lap. Moffy doesn’t notice, his green eyes planted on mine. “Did you get the books on the list yet?”
“Soon.”
He just gave me his summer reading list this morning. Instead of choosing the required three books, he wants to read every single one. Ten books. I never thought we’d have a child who likes reading outside of graphic novels and the occasional fantasy book.
Then again, I never thought we’d have a baby that grew up to love Batman.
Moffy has been full of surprises.
Just as he takes out a calculator from his backpack, I say, “Hey, Moffy. Do you remember what you asked me this morning?”
“About sex?” His voice is nonchalant. He starts typing on his calculator.
“Yeah, sex.” I don’t stammer, which boosts my confidence even more. I sit cross-legged and hold onto my knees. “Do you know what it is?”
“I think so…it’s how babies are made.”
“Right.” I go along with this. “And remember how we told you how a baby is made. When a man’s sperm goes inside a woman, it joins with an egg and the baby grows in the woman’s uterus.” I think I may actually buy him a book for visuals. A recent book. Just in case we’ve all evolved.
Moffy sets down his pencil, brows scrunched in deep contemplation. “Yeah…but how is that sex? I’m just confused. Whitney Rivenfell says two people can do it without making babies. Why would they want to do that?” He shakes his head. “And how exactly does the sperm get inside?”
Calmly, I answer the second question. It seems the easiest. “Sperm comes out of a penis, and so when the man puts his penis into a woman’s vagina, the sperm releases.” Nailed it. Continuing on, “And as for Whitney’s assessment, two people can have sex without making babies. She’s right about that.”
“He,” Moffy corrects. “Whitney’s a boy, Mom.”
First strike, but it had nothing to do with the sex conversation. I’ll take it.
He keeps talking before I can explain further, “So that’s what you and Dad do?” His face twists. “Does it hurt you? Are you okay?”
Uhhh…I didn’t think the sex talk would take this detour. “It doesn’t hurt, Moffy…well for some girls, it does their first time. But that’s not really part of what I want to say…” I trail off, lost for a second. I try to recollect my dispersed thoughts, but his compassion for family members pushes this conversation in another direction.
“So…Janie, Sulli and Luna…” He stares off, confused and concerned about the girls he knows.
“Sex isn’t something to be scared of, but none of you should be having sex until you’re much older,” I tell him, words rushing towards me all of a sudden.
Moffy stares off in thought.
So I just continue, “It can feel good for grown-ups, which is why people do it outside of making babies. When you get older soon, you might even have urges to experiment with yourself…and that’s okay, but it’s something you only do in private.”
Lo and I played “doctor” when we were nine, and we both had a concept of what sex was—we just wanted to see how it felt.
Moffy frowns. “How old were you when you started?”
Don’t freak out. “Having sex?”
“Yeah.”
I lost my virginity when I was thirteen. But not to Lo. I’d do anything to keep them from having sex that soon, so I say, “Old.” I worry that he might ask this to someone else. I add, “Personal sex questions like that stay private between couples, so it’s better not to ask other people that one. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah.” He nods and then asks about Winona and surrogacy again. I explain the whole process so he understands that Rose and Ryke did not have sex, and Winona is biologically Ryke and Daisy’s daughter. I watch clarity sweep his face, and he nods more confidently.
“Do you know what a condom is?” I ask next.
“Not really.”
“It protects your partner.” I think about an STD talk, but maybe I’ll leave that for another time, so I just mention how condoms prevent pregnancies. “It’s like a plastic glove that wraps around the penis so sperm can’t enter a woman. Make sense?”
He thinks about this for a long second. “I dunno. The whole thing seems painful and gross.”
“Well it’s a grown-up thing,” I reinforce this notion. “You don’t have to worry about it until you’re much much older, and maybe then it won’t seem so gross.”
Moffy relaxes more, happy that it’s not something he has to concern himself with right now.
“Anymore questions?” I wonder.
“Yeah.” He looks down at his paper. “If Benji has twelve apples and Mary has three-hundred-and-forty-five, how many apples do they have in all?”
This I can handle. Hell, after today, I can handle anything.
After I finish helping Moffy with his homework, I step into the hall. It’s barren, empty of Loren Hale. I check the next couple of rooms, only to find him in Luna’s.
He lies on the carpet with our four-year-old daughter, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and goopy shapes and colors from the lava lamp.
“And on my planet Thebula, all the waters has glitters. No one can drown,” she tells him, kicking her feet up on her plastic green chair.
“Glitter?” he asks. “Does that mean you’ll be all glittery when you get out of the pool?”
“Uh-huh.” She nods. “And brover won’t be able to drown.”
My heart lurches. She saw a trailer on television where a boy drowned. Some thriller movie coming out for the summer, and now she’s worried about Moffy since he spends most of his time in the pool.
Lo turns his head towards our daughter. Flyaway pieces of her light brown hair touch her round face. She has a red cape tied around her neck, already bathed and in star-printed PJs.
Lo brushes a strand of hair off her forehead. “Moffy isn’t going to drown, Luna. He took swim classes so he won’t.”
“Butbut,” she slurs her words. “What happens if the swim classies fail?”
“They won’t, you wanna know why?” Lo props himself on his elbow, head on his hand, his eyes on our daughter. Lo never thought he could be gentle, not even with his own kids, but he was wrong. He might not have the softest voice, but his innocence surfaces—innocence that we both lost at a young age. He finds and gives it all to them.
“Why?” Luna asks.
“Because Moffy is the best swimmer in the entire neighborhood. He’s so good that I think it’s his secret superpower, but shhh.” He puts his finger to his lips. “You can’t tell him about his superpower or else it might go away. That’s why we call it a…” He
feigns surprise.
“A what?”
“A secret!” He tickles Luna. She giggles and rolls from side to side.
I’m smiling so wide, even as Lo glances at the door for the first time. Seeing me. He nods for me to come further inside. I skip on over, only to rest down on the other side of Luna.
“Mommy!” she exclaims. “I was telling Daddy about my planet Thebula. I think that’s where I’m from.” She’s adamant that she was not born on Earth. That Lo and I had her on another planet and then she returned to this world on a spaceship, bringing her with us. Her imagination is the highlight of my day.
“Thebula,” I muse. “It sounds familiar.”
She inhales a large breath of air. “Really?”
I nod and she springs to her feet and runs over to her little work desk by a strange looking plant she waters every day.
“Whatcha doing?” I ask Luna.
“Drawing it for you!”
I’m glowing as Lo places his fingers to my chin, slowly drawing my face towards his. He kisses the corner of my lips, both of us lying on the fuzzy rug.
“When did you leave?” I ask, scooting closer and closer. Until our legs and arms tangle.
“When you started talking about Benji and Mary and apples.” His amber eyes fill with something soul-deep. “I always believed in you, Lily, but that was…extraordinary.”
“I didn’t blush. Not once.” Pride swells up, something so foreign that I hold onto it tight.
“You’re amazing.” He kisses me once more. This time right on the lips—where the sentiment of his words sings through me.
[ 39 ]
