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“We’re fine,” I say with a forced smile back. Never mind the fact that it is five degrees shy of Satan’s kitchen right now; there’s sweat rolling between my boobs; and I am really craving an ocean breeze.
“Who is Grandma talking to?” Knox asks.
“Just some people from my past,” J.R. says. “Old friends of Grandpa’s.”
Soon, it’s time for the casket to be lowered into the ground. I never understood why families want to stay around for this event. I’ve only thought about my own body being lowered into the ground once, and it was enough for me to decide that I’d rather be cremated.
I look down at Knox, sensing that she’s not quite understanding everything that is happening, so I tell J.R. that we’re going to get in the air-conditioned vehicle with Kelley.
“Go. We’ll be right there.” J.R. is sweating, too, his black shirt nearly soaked through. I’m pretty sure it’s the hottest June day I’ve ever witnessed. I really want to rip my clothes off and lie spread eagle on a bed under a fan. However, that’s only acceptable in a world where I live with no one else, and so I choose to dream about it instead.
Once in the car, I pull my thick hair up into a ponytail and then glance over at Amia. “How is she?”
“Hot,” Kelley says flatly.
“Not you, the baby.”
“She’s fine,” Kelley says. “You are sweaty. How are you?” Kelley asks me.
“I’m okay,” I say. “Just ready for a nap. Or some water.” Either one will do.
Adam steps into the car, shedding his jacket before he does. Kelley remarks about how sweaty he is, too.
J.R. and Ellie soon join us, and we head back to the farm in silence. It’s so quiet that I think Knox may even nap. The only noises to be heard are the tires on the road, Ellie sniffling from the front seat, and Amia snoozing. I sigh. Though a sad day, I am glad to have it behind us now. Still, one question remains—what will happen to Ellie now that Roger is gone?
We’re not back at the barn long before it’s time for Kelley and Adam to head back home. I knew this moment was coming, but I am still not ready for it. I wonder if I could hire her to live with us so that she can be my full-time baby whisperer. Probably not, but it might be worth asking her about.
I hold Amia in my arms while J.R. helps Kelley and Adam out to their car with their luggage. I laugh quietly to myself, thinking about the day Kelley helped Knox and me move in with J.R. He was so angry with her then, it was all he could do to help her with her luggage. Now, he does it with gratitude. He’s not a fan of Adam yet, but I think he’ll warm up to him eventually.
Knox clings to Kelley’s leg begging her to stay, but Kelley, laughing, wraps her arms around her and kisses her cheek. “I’ll come back for a visit soon. I promise.”
“It’s not fair,” Knox says, pouting with her arms folded across her chest.
Kelley rolls her eyes at her. “Be good, Knox.” Then Kelley comes to me. “You’ll be okay?”
I smile at her. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for everything. I couldn’t—wecouldn’t—have survived these last few days without you.”
“I love you.” Kelley looks down at Amia sleeping soundly in my arms and then back at me. “I’ll let you know when we’re home.”
I nod, and the three of us watch her leave. Adam throws his arm out the window and waves before they disappear.
J.R. turns to me, his blue eyes gentle. “You should go rest. You look pale.”
“I’m fine. I think I just got a little overheated. I do wish that people would stop pointing out to me that I look like crap.”
“You look beautiful,” J.R. says. “But you did just have a baby, and you’ve had a busy day.”
I am exhausted beyond comprehension, and I think maybe he’s right. I should rest—if for no one else but the rest of my family.
“Fine. I’ll go lie down. Naked and under the ceiling fan. I’m still hot.”
J.R. laughs at me, and then he gently takes Amia from me. It’s an art the way he takes her from me without even causing her to stir. I kiss his cheek, and then I make my way up the stairs.
I’m not sure what time it is. It’s dark outside, and J.R. is next to me asleep. It’s after midnight, I assume, and I realize that I must have been truly exhausted. I slept through dinner and bedtime. Amia is next to us in her bassinet, and I hear her stir. A tiny grunt comes from her mouth, and then the grunt turns into a soft cackle. She’s hungry, I’m sure, so I roll out of bed and gently lift her. I cradle her tiny body in my arms and cross the room to the rocking chair, turning the lamp on low and then gazing down at her as she feeds. I smile at her, taking in her soft cheeks and the olive tone to her skin. She’s got a head full of hair just as Knox did when she was a newborn. It has to be a genetic trait that they each received from their father. Sometimes, I’m jealous of the naturally curly and thick hair that J.R. has. He’s never had to pay it much attention, yet it is always perfect.
Amia’s blue eyes are as bright and icy as J.R. and Knox’s blue eyes; and although I’ve always been taught that brown eyes are a dominant gene, that scientific fact obviously doesn’t apply to my family. Neither of my children caught my brown-eyed gene. It’s okay, though. I’ll never grow tired of looking into the blue eyes of the three people I love most.
J.R. stirs. I watch him feel for me in the bed, and then his eyes open following the low light of the lamp to Amia and me in the rocking chair. He sits up a little, propping himself back on his elbows. His long hair hangs, and I see a soft smile spread across his perfect face.
