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“He sounds awesome. I’m glad you had him considering…”
I smirked at her trail-off. “Considering my parents were deadbeats?”
“Yes.” Lia glanced at me for a second before gazing out the window. “Something tells me you and Tess were the cutest kids ever so I can’t imagine not wanting to watch you grow up. Then again, I’ve never met a baby I didn’t think was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Really?” I teased. “There are some objectiv
ely weird-looking babies out there.”
“You’re right, there are. And I still love them. My favorites are the babies with big ears they haven’t grown into yet.”
“Shit, then you would’ve loved Wyatt,” I grinned, though my voice faltered midsentence.
Huh. I stared out at the road, surprised at myself for bringing him up on my own. I rarely said his name aloud anymore. If I did, it was only with Tess, on the rare nights that we found ourselves able to reminisce without falling into a depression.
Gripping the wheel, I felt my heartbeat pick up. But it slowed again when Lia took my hand. I looked at her, expecting her to ask for the story behind him but she simply met my eyes and said nothing for several minutes. All she did was stroke my hand softly, eventually turning back out the window, conveying that there was no rush for me to speak. I squeezed her hand to let her know I appreciated it.
Staring out into the road, I let her gently rub my palm for another mile or so, soothing me enough so that when I finally spoke again, saying his name didn’t hurt or feel like a shock.
“Wyatt was our little surprise. I think I was eleven when my mom got pregnant with him,” I said, remembering the fighting between my parents before they sent Tess and me to spend Christmas at Uncle James’ house. It took years for me to realize what they were fighting about. My mom wanted to keep him, my dad didn’t. “Tess and I stayed over our neighbor’s house when my mom went into labor and we were both losing it we were so excited. We were talking about taking the baby to the beach with us, teaching him how to surf and swim. We had all these ideas of who we wanted this kid to be and when we finally met him, we forgot it all because he was pretty fucking great as is. Big ol’ ears, big ol’ smile just for me and Tess when we finally saw him.”
I ran my hand over the grin that spread my lips as I thought about the first moment I saw Wyatt. He had not a damned hair on his bald head but he had green eyes like me, Tess and Mom. I was twelve and even then I knew there was something special about him. He never cried. In the mornings, I’d wake up to find him already sitting up in his crib. He didn’t make a peep till he saw me though, and when he did, he smiled, bounced on his fat baby ass and held his arms out to be picked up. Tess and I found it hilarious. We loved waking up early, sneaking up on his crib and then surprising him so he’d squeal with delight. You had to surprise him to get him to make any noise. Otherwise, he was a quietly happy baby.
“Did things… change in your house? Once he was born?” Lia asked. She was hopeful again so I felt sorry that the answer I had for her was nothing but the same.
“Things changed but not for the better. My parents were different with each other. Mom resented that she wasn’t getting any help so while they were still drinking, they weren’t going out as much anymore. They weren’t Bonnie and Clyde anymore. Wyatt put a wedge between them, and my mom resented that. I could actually see it sometimes, her eyes just looking dead when she looked at him. He barely cried but if he did, she’d groan and roll her eyes and if my dad caught it, he’d give her some ‘I told you so’ type speech. And then all hell would break loose. So Tess – she was only eight years old but she made it her job to just grab Wyatt and rock him in her arms anytime he made a noise. Just to keep the peace in our house.”
“She’s so sweet,” Lia whispered. “I wish I could’ve seen that. Babies holding babies are the cutest.”
“Yeah, especially since Tess is like…”
“Thumbelina.”
“Yeah,” I laughed. “She’s tiny. Even now.”
“Have you spoken to her recently? How is she?”
“I call her every night. She’s as good as she’s going to be right now. She’s with our Grandma, the French one I told you about.”
“Grandma Elodie?”
I turned to her with a smile. “You remember.”
“Of course I do. You told me about her the day you made me my first French omelet ever. It was delicious. And you made it so fast. I was pretty impressed that morning.”
I laughed. “You would’ve been even more impressed watching me make those in middle and high school. I was probably even better then.”
“Seriously? Why?”
“Well, Grandma Elodie spent a couple years living with us after Wyatt was born. She couldn’t whip our parents into shape but she whipped me and Tess into shape. I was the cook and the dishwasher. Tess was the one who cleaned up around the house and Grandma was the one who fed Wyatt, changed his diapers, all that jazz. She found an apartment to rent nearby and she’d come in every morning at six and she’d leave a couple hours after Tess and I came home from school. She wasn’t the type to baby us,” I laughed. “She missed home and every evening, she went to hang out with the community of French expats she found. Pretty sure she kept a couple boyfriends in Miami.”
“Damn. Grandma Elodie sounds like she knows how to have fun.”
“She does. She’s a good balance of working hard and playing hard.”
“I see. Sounds like I should meet her and get a couple pointers,” Lia joked.
“Hey, if you want to go to France, we can. We’ll say hi to Grandma and Tess and then hop the high speed train to Barcelona,” I said, peering to my side to change lanes. When I went several seconds without hearing anything from Lia, I turned to find her staring at me with a goofy smile on her lips. “What?” I laughed.
