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Visibly exhausted. Swollen eyes. Oppressively downtrodden spirit.
Check, check, check.
“Are you okay?”
August nods but I’m not convinced. I scoot closer. “Can you look at me for a second?”
He sighs and he keeps watching his fingers toy with the pillow on his lap until I sigh too. Gently but firmly cupping his cheek, I coax his head upwards. “Everything John said is bullshit.”
“Ma—”
“I love you,” I interrupt, telling him what I should’ve the second this whole thing happened. “Having another baby is not gonna make me love you any less. You are not gonna be in the way, you are never gonna be forgotten.”
“But—”
“No buts. Ever.” I always thought I’d made his importance, his prominence, in my life pretty clear but maybe I haven’t. Maybe this uncertainty is all on me. Maybe I should tell him every day that he is the great love of my life, the best thing I’ve ever done, the only thing that got me out of bed for so many years. “You are my best friend. My guy. My Goose. You are my entire life, August Lane, and nothing is ever going to change that.”
He’s crying. I’m crying. We’re crying, mother and son, with the same ugly sobs, the same red noses, the same unnaturally bright eyes.
“I’m sorry your dad is a jackass. If I could change that, I swear to God, I would, but I would never change you.”
Lanky arms wrap around my neck as August all but hauls himself onto my lap.
“I’m so sorry everything happened like this,” I freakingweepagainst already dampening curls. “I’m sorry you’re not excited about the baby. I really wish you were but I know it’s hard and complicated and weird, and I want you to know it’s okay that you think this all sucks. It’s okay if today isn’t a good day. You can have the worst day in the world and I’ll still love you so, so much.”
“You’re gonna love this one more. This one isn’t ruining your life.”
“August—”
“I know it’s true, okay?” He interrupts before I can assure him of the absolute opposite. “Everyone says it. I know I did.”
Fuck. The sureness of his words breaks my heart, breaksme. Make me wonder just how many have said this to him or in his vicinity, whoeveryoneis. “You did not ruin my life. Jesus, kid, youstartedmy life. You know how sad I was before I had you? I was so damn lonely until you came alone, August. I had no one. I had nothing. And then,” I have to pause to breathe, my lungs straining with the effort. “I had you and suddenly, I had everything. You’re my everything. There’s no way I could love this baby more.”
Honestly, I’m a little terrified I won’t love them as much—if my love for August is often so overwhelming, how could I possibly have any more to give?—but I choose not to mention that lest I fuel any future sibling rivalry.
“You hear me, little boy?”
August sniffs. “Yeah.”
“You believe me? ‘Cause I still have some steam left. I could monologue all day.”
His laugh is a snotty, wheezy garble. “I believe you.”
“Good.” I squeeze my firstborn, my first love, as hard I can. “I really mean it, August. I love you so much.”
Hugging me back, he doesn’t hesitate. “I love you, Mama.”
* * *
The white shopping bag in Cass’ closet is way,waytoo much.
Immediately, I recognize the brand on the side and before I even dip inside, I know what it is. I remember oohing and aahing over the slip of cream cotton, reverently tracing the yellow embroidered suns. I remember trying it on and admiring the fabric as it swished high around my thighs, so soft against my skin. Idistinctlyremember catching sight of the price tag and holding my breath as Cass helped me take it off, too afraid of ripping a seam to do it myself.
This dress was the one thing I downright refused Cass’ offer to buy. Or, more accurately, the one refusal he actually took seriously. Although, I guess he didn’t, in the end.
For an undeniably vain amount of time, I stare at the guest bathroom mirror. At the girl in the really beautiful dress with the healthy glow and the round belly that feels like it gets rounder by the minute. She cocks her head when I do, smooths a hand over her bump when I do, pulls the fabric taut to better see the protrusion when I do too.
“Was I that big?”
