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BECKY
“Mama.”
Elliot’s voice is sweet and distant. I’m melting in a dream, floating in warm white lights while my lover’s hands caress my body. I haven’t had one of these dreams in a long time, and I appreciate the lucidity of my state since I’m able to appreciate the opportunity. I giggle as he turns me over, the sun eating me whole and filling me up with honey-glazed bliss.
“Mama!”
“Mama’s sleeping,” I mutter, refusing to wake up. Deep down, I know the kid is going to win. He always wins. He’ll jump on top of me if he has to, but he will drag me back into the waking world eventually.
“Mamaaaa!”
“Dang it, Elliot…”
I rub my face as my eyes peel open. My senses are lazy, each coming back into focus with the speed of a drunken turtle. It takes a while, but I finally hear the alarm clock buzzing on the nightstand. Instinctively, my hand shoots out and smacks the top button. Finally, silence. Sweet silence. Until Elliot climbs into bed and on top of me.
“Mama, you’re gonna be late!”
“Honey…”
I love our lazy mornings most of all. He’s only two, but he is remarkably swift and precocious, having learned to climb out of his crib and walk up to my bed. My little monkey. Thank goodness everything is baby-proofed in this room and he’s not tall enough to reach the doorknob yet. I’ll be in trouble soon enough, but for now I’ll keep enjoying Elliot’s toddler years as much as I can. His arms come around my neck, and he hugs me tightly, his tiny heart thudding with love.
“Mama, late for work!”
And it hits me. It hits me so hard, I damn near jump out of bed forgetting my kid is still latching on to me. “Holy crapsicles!” I exclaim, making my boy giggle. He knows curse words are bad, so I try to keep a child-friendly house as best as I can. “You’re right, honey. I’m late for work already… I didn’t even hear the alarm.”
“No!” Elliot laughs, now sitting on the edge of the bed and watching me as I rummage through the wardrobe for today’s work outfit, then the dresser for the appropriate undies. “Late, late, late!”
“It’s a good thing you’re developing your vocabulary, honey, otherwise you’d be giving me an earful right about now.” I chuckle, scooping him up in my arms. “Stay here while Mommy takes a shower, please!”
I deposit him in his playpen—a contraption that’s too tall for him to climb over yet. He makes a bigger fuss usually, but this time he knows it’s serious. It’s one of the things I love most about having a kid—things I never even considered when I decided to go ahead with the pregnancy despite the many uncertainties I was dealing with at the time. Elliot and I have built quite the life with each other, and we’re in an almost-perfect sync, too. Sometimes, he just needs to look at me and he understands where my head is. For a two-year-old, he is particularly receptive. Occasionally, he chooses the way of the temper tantrum, but he knows it’s to no avail. Having grown up as one of triplets, I’ve had my share of drama queens already.
The shower is a quick business while I listen to the sounds of Elliot fidgeting around in his playpen. I wonder if other single mothers have it as easy—I’m lucky with my sisters, too. Laura and Callie have been my rocks since day one, and honestly… I haven’t felt the brunt of it as badly as I had originally thought I would, particularly with Elliot’s father out of the picture.
“How’s it goin’, honey bunny?” I ask as I come out of the bathroom all dressed and lightly made-up, ready for work. It only took me ten minutes, which has got to be some kind of new record. “You’re gonna be staying with Auntie Callie today. Auntie Laura has a few clients at the salon so you’re getting the pediatric nurse treatment instead.”
“Callie! I like Callie!” Elliot exclaims. “Callie looks like mommy!”
“Yeah, ’cause Auntie Laura went for the grungy emo look so she wouldn’t fit in with the rest of us triplets,” I giggle.
Within another couple of minutes, I’ve got Elliot dressed and minty-fresh and eager to spend the day with my sister. By the time we reach Callie’s apartment just a couple of blocks down from my building, Elliot is restless and asking for breakfast.
“Mama, I want milk and cereal…”
“Callie has something scrumptious already waiting for you, honey,” I tell him as I climb the stairs up to the first floor. As soon as I reach Callie’s door, it swings open and I’m greeted by my mirror image—except the medium-length haircut that she’s been sticking with for years now. I rarely see her out of her hospital scrubs, though, so the cartoonish pajamas she’s got on make me laugh a little too loud. “And she also has the entertainment module all set up and ready to go, it seems.”
“Well, then, no coffee for you, miss!” Callie shoots back, feigning outrage.
Elliot cheers delightedly as I kiss him and hand him over to my sister. He locks on to her like the little monkey that he is, loving and sweet and clingy. I dread the day he becomes a moody teen. May time move slower and slower as he grows up.
“Thanks for this, and sorry I’m late!” I tell Callie. “Don’t worry about coffee; I’m gonna guzzle some from the office—it’s Vincent’s turn for a Starbucks run, anyway.”
“How is Vincent, by the way?” she asks.
I laugh. “He’s gotten over you, if that’s what you wanted to know.”
“We only went out on a couple of dates, and I decided we weren’t compatible. It’s not like I broke his heart,” Callie replies, while Elliot plays with the hem of her pajama shirt, chubby little fingers curling as he feels the plush fabric in his hold. “Besides, he’s intoyou, Becky. I was just a more emotionally available surrogate.”
“He’s not into me!” I croak. But the truth is, we both know he is. It’ll never go anywhere, though. There is absolutely not a spark in sight. “Besides, I don’t have the time nor the energy to get into a relationship with anyone, anyway.”
