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“Sorry, just too many hormones. Nine years today, Ag.” Sera let the tears fall.
“Stop it, Mom. It happened for a reason. It turned out for the best.” Agatha put her arm around her mom. It was odd that she was comforting the other woman today.
“But it still hurts, Ag. I know you still think about it. Wonder what could have been,” Sera said.
“Not every day, not anymore,” Agatha admitted and stood up before she started crying too.
Carrying the baby into the kitchen, she handed him over to Maby, who had just arrived. As the group chatted, she excused herself to the bathroom on the first floor. Closing the door behind her, she let the tears fall, not for the first time that day.
Today, she had to see Chris today of all days: Violet’s ninth birthday. He showed up on her front step nine years too late. What would he have found if he had been there nine years earlier, when she had needed him?
The evening Violet had been born, Sera and Agatha had already been at the hospital all day. Since 2 a.m. actually, because that was the time Agatha had woken up to bad cramps. Sera had rushed her to the hospital. She had no idea what was happening or why Agatha was in pain. By midmorning, Agatha had lost the baby she had been carrying for four months, Chris’s baby. A baby she had been hiding from her family, not knowing how to tell anyone about. All the excitement caused Sera to go into labor, and by evening, Violet had been born. Violet was only two weeks early, and Sera’s delivery had been quick and had made Agatha’s pain of losing her own baby lighter.
Sera had let Agatha name the tiny girl Violet because Agatha had been in a deep purple mood that evening. Hours before, she had named her lost baby Jet, to match her own black mood. Her sisters had never known about her baby, and Sera had promised not to tell. So far, she had kept that promise. There were just some things she didn’t want to share with everyone.
In the weeks following the births, the two had become closer than before. Since only Buzz was living at home still, it had been easy not to tell everyone about Agatha’s issues. Sera just told everyone she was sick. No details were given, and nobody asked for more.
With them both at home recovering, they bonded over each’s situation and the baby they both could love. Sera had told her who the father was and that he was also Emma’s father. Agatha had told her some of her obsession with Christopher, but not all. It had still been too painful then.
What she would have done with her own child all these years, Agatha didn’t know. She knew her sisters would have loved him and helped with his care, and Agatha wouldn’t have been able to let her life slide for years without any ambition or motivation. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t mom material. Sure, she was good with kids and loved them, but being a mom was different. She had always felt she was more like her own mother, who had walked away from her own children before Agatha was even in school.
She had told Sera she didn’t think of the baby everyday anymore, and she didn’t. But some days, she could almost see him. It had been a boy; even if the doctor wouldn’t say, Agatha knew. Today was one of those days she had seen him walking with Violet from the bus. Jet. Blond hair and brown eyes. He was not bubbly and talkative but let Violet talk for him. He always had.
Washing her face with cold water, she pushed the memory of what could have been down deep and went out to celebrate her baby sister’s birthday. It was a special day for her. Agatha had always made sure that there was no sadness on this day.
By the time she made it out of the bathroom, people had started to eat. Nobody noticed when she came into the room, which she was happy for because she didn’t know how long she had been gone.
“Nice shirt, Agatha,” Lucy said, rolling her eyes.
Agatha loved her shirt. It was her go-to birthday shirt. Years ago, Lucy had started a screen-printing business. It had been short-lived but had supplied the family with shirts until the end of time because they had kept the rejects. Habby B=dya should have read Happy B-day, and the large quantity of mistakes should have been a sign to everyone that something was wrong with the twin, but at the time, they had laughed it off and teased Lucy about it. But last year, Cliff had realized that she had undiagnosed dyslexia, and she wasn’t as ditzy as she let everyone believe.
“I love this one,” Agatha argued. “And the one that says ‘Pins.’ And, of course, ‘Grand Cannon,’ but we all have that one.”
“We should all go to the Grand Canyon and wear our Grand Cannon shirts,” Maby said with a laugh as she dished up a salad.
“How many ‘Cuymun Islunb’s’ do we have? I like that one.” Sera chuckled.
“Not enough for a vacation,” Lucy grumbled. Talk about the shirts always made Lucy self-conscious because they reminded her of her disability.
“We are not making fun of you, Lucy. I love the shirts. People stop and ask where I got my shirt. They’re funny,” Maby reassured her twin.
“I think if you still have the stuff, you should make all the girls a shirt that says their long name, the entire thing,” Leo said, kissing a frowning Lucy on the neck.
“Oh, now you’re bringing out the long name,” Maby replied in her teacher voice.
Leo laughed. “Yes, I am. And I would proudly wear Lucy Maude’s name on my chest.”
Each of the five older sisters had a hideously long name. Most had been named after authors, including Agatha Christie Lovely, Nelle Harper Lee Lovely, Lucy Maud Montgomery Lovely, and Beatrix Potter Lovely, known as Buzz. Only Mabel Lucie Attwell Lovely had been named for an illustrator, but Buzz’s namesake technically was one too.
So, using someone’s long name meant business in this house. Maby and Lucy had the longest, and when they came out, that meant the twins were really fighting.
“How about just the portrait of the person we’re named after? Then nobody would really know who they were,” Agatha suggested, her mood brightening.
“We should!” Lucy nodded enthusiastically.
“We shouldn’t,” Buzz said, stabbing at her salad.
“Really, Buzz? Agatha is on board but not you?” Maby said, and all eyes turned to the redhead.
