“No, not a word. My sister on the other hand went into sensation-reporter mode and showed me a couple of snaps.”
“God, I’m still mortified when I think about it.”
“I get that you wanted to kill my father after everything, but that day, Jay was just the messenger. I’m sorry I asked Tom to stay.”
A long exhale.
“No apologies, sweetie. I know he needs to be there with you right now. He worked so hard for it and the two of you deserve time together. I just miss him a lot.”
A moment of silence.
“Read chapter twenty-four. It’ll comfort you.”
“Will do.”
“If there’s anything, call me. You have my support. Always.”
“Thanks for reaching out. My thoughts are with you these next weeks.”
“Thanks. Can use them.”
Silence.
“Bye Yosh.”
“Bye Evelyn.”
Chapter sixty
Tom
It’s a warm day in March. Unusually warm for this time of year. The sun is hanging low in the sky, its golden rays weaving through the empty tree branches in front of the hospital window. They warm the tears on my face.
God, I’ve cried so much this past year. More than I ever thought I could.
It’s like the dam somewhere deep inside me broke, and now it’s just streams. All the fucking time.
Today I’m not fighting them.
Not while I’m holding this tiny, perfect little girl against my chest.
My granddaughter.
Months ago, it had scared the living shit out of me to say that word out loud. All I could think was; this shouldn't be happening to me, I’m way too young for this kind of stuff.
In retrospect, I’ll blame it on the quarter life crisis. I was denying that this was happening; my daughter giving life to achild of her own while it felt to me as if I’d paused mine nearly 20 years ago and never lived since.
But last year, I finally started living. And right now I’m as alive as this little bundle of joy in my arms.
I glance down. She’s so small, so precious, so perfect. She feels mine too.
Her little body rises and falls with each soft breath. I hold her close, letting her hear my heartbeat.
It’s soothing for newborns, they say. Keeps them calm. I remember I did that with Effy when she was this size. Chris too. I’d hold them both against my chest.
“Sophie Thomas James McKenna,” she says from the hospital bed.
I look up to meet Effy’s eyes. “What?”
