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Octavia
Mary wouldn’t let go after meeting us outside, clinging to me, and now she won’t let me out of her sight. I haven’t showered with her since she was six and so tiny I would crouch down to wash her hair, but right now prying my hand off her smaller one is a struggle.
So we compromise. I shower quickly, wrap myself up in a huge fluffy towel, and sit outside the shower stall as she washes the mud off her.
I’m waiting for her with another towel when she steps out. I wrap it around her and draw her into my arms. There’s another flutter in my belly, and I smile. Two of my kids here, with me.
It’s an incredible feeling.
“Hey, Mary,” I whisper. “It’s going to be okay. Do you trust me?”
“Tati.” Mary holds on tight. “I don’t want you to die.”
“I won’t. I promise you that.”
“Please don’t die.” She doesn’t sound like she believes me. “We don’t need another baby. I want to keep you. You’re like… my mom. Please stay with us.”
Oh God. “Nothing will happen to me. Having a baby doesn’t mean I’ll die, Mary. Are you listening to me?”
But she looks away and says nothing, her small body shaking.
How do I convince her I’ll be okay? I mean, barring accidents and unforeseeable problems, I should be fine. I’m careful, I keep my doctor appointments, everything looks all right.
She shouldn’t be afraid on my account. Not any more than she should be on anyone else’s account, and she’s too young to be thinking of death at every turn of the way.
“Let’s go get dressed,” I tell her. “We’ll have lunch with the boys.”
“The boys?”
“Matt and Cole.”
“Dad is not a boy.”
I smile, glad to take her mind off darker thoughts. “He’s a boy. A big boy.”
“A big, big boy.” Mary snorts.
“Yep. And we’ll eat, and sit together. And talk.”
“What about?”
“Everything.”
Which, hopefully, after this talk, will be much better.
* * *
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Hand in hand, we make our way out and into the bedroom. My two favorite boys are on the bed, big grins on their faces—Matt and Cole.
Sure, I love Merc, too, but he’s my little brother, that stinky little shit. Totally different thing.
Mary divebombs the bed, causing panic. Matt scrambles to catch her, Cole kicks at her, and I just snicker standing there.
My family.
Matt grapples with his two kids, hauling them on his lap and enfolding them in a bearhug, a huge grin on his face. He’s happy. Relieved he’s back and found them okay. I wonder if he’ll ever be free of that anxiety.
