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I didn’t even think those things were possible.
Just like with him, I didn’t know I could love Rae any more than I always have.
And as I’m lying in his arms on the couch, drifting awake from a post-lunch nap, I get to really thinking about her.
I remember the day she came into the world.
It was just a few weeks before my sixteenth birthday, and I was one of the first people to see her. And when I did…when I saw her little face…I just bawled.
I didn’t tear up and sniffle a few times. Ibawled.
Kelle had been so stupid during her pregnancy, so self-interested and irresponsible, and because she wouldn’t keep doctor appointments (she didn’t even know she was having a girl), I feared for all those months that her baby would be born a total mess. Hell, she and I had been born healthy and look at what our mom did toourlives; the potential price that child might’ve had to pay for Kelle’s own poor decisions terrified me.
So I stressed about the kind of care he or she would receive. I wanted to hope Kelle would turn over a new leaf the way some people do when they see their child for the first time, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t, and I was only fifteen, and our mother…yeah fucking right, she’dneverstep up. So I worried and worried and worried. It was likely the kid had been seriously damaged in the womb, and dealing with that would require extra-special attention and money, probably, and I just didn’t believe my family would do whatever they had to for the baby to be nourished and happy.
And then I laid eyes on that baby.
That extremely tiny baby girl had the biggest baby eyes and the sweetest baby face…. Some of her fingers and toes weren’t fully developed, but that was the worst of it. And I didn’t mind, other than still being pissed at my sister for her senselessness. Relieved—overwhelmingly relieved—is what I was.
Yes, from the first moment I saw Rae Elizabeth McKellar, my heart was gone, because she was the most precious thing in the world. A blessing. A true angel bringing light into a terrible place.
A deep, soft murmur meets my ears in the form of my name.
I suck in an uneven breath and say, “Yeah?” surprisingly thickly. I clear my throat.
Landon’s hand rubs gently up and down my arm. “Why are you crying?”
Yeah, his shirt is wet where I’ve had the side of my face resting against it. I jerk a hand up and wipe at that eye. “I’m sorry.”
His hand flexes comfortingly around my arm. “Don’t be. Tell me about it?”
I clear my throat again. “Just thinking about the day Rae was born.”
He shifts onto his side so he can look at me. His eyes are still hazy from our nap, but I know he’s paying close attention to me.
I’ve shared these thoughts with him before; I’ve sharedallmy thoughts about Rae with him. He knows everything from how much I love her, to all the ways she and I were challenged in our lives, to exactly how much it upsets me for her to have hurt feelings—especially when it’s my fault.
He’s experienced that last one himself, too. One time, she started skipping ahead of us in the Wal-Mart parking lot because she was excited about something. I tried to call her back so no one would run her over, and she either didn’t hear or didn’t listen, so Landon had to dash forward and raise his voice at her. She froze so fast, looked so genuinely sad that he’d snapped at her, but he was just trying to keep her safe. He didn’t snap at her to be mean. He feltsobad about putting that look on her face, though.
And I felt horrible the time I was bitching at my bank over the phone for not checking their cameras to see who’d crashed into my car and split. I was so animated that the snack Rae handed me to open got flung out of my hand and right at her face. It left a stinging scratch, so she was shocked and upset then, too, and so was I because I felt like my mother, like Kelle, like I’d taken my anger out on Rae. Of course I didn’t mean for that to happen at all, but oh, God, it was horrible and it had me panicking and crying right along with her.
Landon had to reassure me for quite some time that it was just an accident, that I wasn’t an abusive monster.
That’s what I’d done that day at Wal-Mart with him.
He and I have been good for each other, and we’ve been a good team when it’s come to Rae. She’s not a petulant child, but she’s also not perfect, so she’s had her frustrating and whiny and rude times, and we’ve dealt with them together. As we did at the start, we’ve dealt witheverythingtogether in ways that just feelhealthy;we’ve kept the tactics that have worked and added in helpful new ones. When there’s a disagreement between the two of us or a certain stressor on our minds, we don’t take it out on her—I learned my lesson on that one long ago. And he has implemented a unique Lolly-and-Pop solution to sour moods that I never thought of: saying ‘bubbles’ as angrily as possible, which always results in laughter, which results in a lighter attitude. We’ve both continued to do the usual things like teach her stuff and spend time with her.
It’s astounding howgoodthe time we spend with her can get.
The satisfaction Landon and I bring each other is deep and private and hot and involved and fifty other things, but being with Rae is satisfying in a whole different, much simpler, much sweeter way. The love of a child is such an unspeakable treasure. The way it feels to watch her turn to Landon for comfort as readily as she’s always turned to me, and to hear excitement in her voice when she sees us after school, and to witness her picking up on how we stand or make our sandwiches or talk to people or whatever…it’s all soamazing.
It’s fulfilling.
Landon and I are in complete agreement that living life with Rae is fulfilling, even when it’s difficult and expensive and exhausting.
He wipes at the tears that have continued to leave my eyes.
Then, because he’s so skilled at understanding me and knowing what I’m thinking, he whispers, “It’s going to fucking rock, Liv-Andria.”
