Page 93 of Plain Sight

Mason’s driver, Scott, pulls the SUV up to the curb and hops out. “How’d it go?” he calls.

Remy: Be back before you miss me! Tell Habby I’m on my way <3

“It went so well,” I tell Scott. “Drive fast, okay? Jameson’s waiting for me.”

23

LILY

You know how they say time flies when you’re having fun?

That’s not all bullshit. It really does fly when life is good.

It flies when you’re pregnant, and every day you turn around and discover that you have a whole new body. It flies when the baby is born, and you think you’ll be in labor forever, and then you’re holding your son in your arms.

It also flies when it’s sad, because life can be perfect and sad simultaneously. Jameson misses his parents even more once the baby is born. He tells his mom and dad everything that happens. Sometimes, when Harry’s fussing at night, Jameson will rock him for hours in his nursery, giving his parents a running commentary on everything our baby’s learned to do.

Sometimes, I try to do the same, chatting to my mom.

It just doesn’t feel right, though. I don’t like talking to her on the basis of what one asshole said to me when I was kidnapped.

And then the baby starts crawling, and time really flies.

And then it really flies.

It soars until your baby isn’t a baby anymore, he’s a chubby toddler, sixteen months old and wearing dress shoes from his Uncle Gabriel, and all of you are crossing the cemetery on a sunny summer day.

“Remember Daddy’s Mom and Dad?” I ask Harry, his toddler hands wrapped around my fingers. He wants to walk so badly, but he’s not quite there yet. He can march, though. Boy, can he march. He picks up his little knees and marches until the cows come home.

“Ba,” he says. “Baba.”

“Grandpa. That’s right.”

Jameson and I came early today to have a minute alone. He comes loping across the grass with the diaper bag over one shoulder and a bouquet tucked into his elbow, and the second he’s close enough, he bends down and kisses my cheek.

“You’re still an angel,” he says.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“No.” His grin sets off the tears in his eyes. “It’s just a private joke.”

“It’s not private when you say it out loud.”

“Baba!” Henry says, and toddles over to the gravestone. He squats down and traces the letters with one finger, then gets up and toddles away.

“Hey, Mom. Dad.” Jameson lays the bouquet on the ground and pats the headstone. “Big news. You probably already know, you sickos. I’ve heard you haunt bedrooms.”

“Jamie.”

“Lily’s pregnant again,” he says, louder, then leans over and picks up Habby, balancing him on his hip. “And it’s a girl.”

“Hey!” I thwack his arm. “That was a secret!”

“It’s just my parents. They won’t tell.” Jameson puts his arm around my waist and clears his throat. “There’s some other news, too, and I wanted you to be here when I shared it.”

“Woah.” I slip my free hand into his. “You have secret news? That you didn’t tell me?”

Jameson looks down at me, his expression only slightly sheepish. “I thought it would be a good surprise. You can be mad at me about it later if you want.”