My belly quivered. “It’s okay. Let him come to me.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He set the boy down. His short legs immediately started pumping, carrying him the last distance to the porch. He was wet, the yellow shirt and shorts soaked from the sprinkler.
I picked him up. “Mommy!” he said, resting his head on my shoulder.
I arranged him on my hip. My body already knew how to hold him. “Yes, Tad,” I said. “I’m here.”
I didn’t know how long it had taken for me to read the book and watch the videos, but it must have felt like forever to someone so little.
Tucker approached. “You doing okay? Did you take some medicine? You usually have a headache.”
I nodded. “Rosie took me to the ibuprofen.”
“Good.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “I know this is hard.”
“I think I’m okay. I don’t feel angry or scared like the video said I might.” Tad reared back in my arms. “Mommy!”
“Yes, Tad,” I said. “Hello.”
He squirmed down from my hip. I guessed he was ready to move on.
I set him down, and he took off across the lawn, shrieking as he got sprayed with water.
I sat down on a red metal chair near the door. “He’s cute,” I said. Watching him play was the most calming thing I’d experienced since I woke up on the bathroom floor.
Tucker sat near my feet. “He is.”
I had a thousand questions. Who was I really? Were we in love still, like Ava had said in the video? Did I still take photos? What would happen now that I didn’t know anything?
But the sun was warm on my skin. Tucker sat with me quietly, close but without asking anything of me.
And a small boy raced across the glass, forward and back, shouting every time the water turned his way.
Rosie lay on the other side, panting lightly, the words “Seizure Dog” bright and white on the harness on her back.
I reached down to pet her head. We were already acquainted.
And soon, I’d get to know this man beside me. And the boy playing in the grass.
Maybe I didn’t know anything yet. But even so, I think I’m going to like it here.
