Friday
They wouldn’t let me hold him after he was born. They said it would be easier that way. But none of it was easy. I remember sneaking from my room and going to the observatory window where all the little bassinets were safe behind the glass. There were so many babies in the nursery that night. All of them had names on the front of their bassinettes except the one I assumed was mine. I can still see him in my head sometimes. I never got to hear him cry. I never held him in my arms. But he looks like me with his dark hair. I know that much.
The baby in the window in front of me kicks his feet and turns a brilliant shade of red. I want to go in and hold him, but a nurse comes forward and picks him up. She gently coos to him and tucks him into the crook of her arm.
An arm slips around my waist, and I turn to look up into Paul’s face. I wipe the tears from my eyes that I didn’t even realize were there. My whole face is wet. Paul offers me his sleeve, and I shake my head. I wipe my eyes with my fingertips, sluicing the water from my face like windshield wipers.
“I love the belly art,” he says as he looks through the window at the babies with me.
A grin tips the corners of my lips. “It was her idea.”
“You did a good job.”
He doesn’t say more. He just looks at the babies.
“Do you remember the day Hayley was born?” I ask.
“Like it was yesterday. Kelly got pissed and kicked me out, and then she begged and pleaded for them to find me. Sam and Pete were at home because they had school the next day, and Logan was watching them. But Matt was here. He kept me steady.” He looks down at me and smiles. “Who kept you steady?” he asks, his voice quiet and soft.
I flinch. I don’t mean to. I can’t help it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Okay,” he says. He goes back to watching the babies. But his question lies there like a barrier between us, even though his arm is still around me and he’s so very close to me.
I heave a sigh. “Can you respect my decision and let it go?” I ask. “Please?”
“I can and do respect your decision, but I can’t let it go,” he tells me. “I’m sorry, but it’s such a big part of who you are.”
“It’s not, though. It’s just a blip in time.”
“It’s not a blip, Friday,” he says. His voice grows a little louder. “It’s part of you, and it always will be. I’m not going to pry it out of you. But I’m here if you ever want to talk.”
“Are you going to let it come between us?” I ask.
“Are you?” he tosses back at me. Then he sees Matt walking down the hallway with Sky and their three kids, and he shows them to the waiting room.
He leaves me standing there watching the babies. Only I don’t feel completely alone. Not like the last time I was here.
I heave a sigh and stand there until the baby from earlier is back asleep. He smacks his lips together and dreams.
I had dreams once. Dreams of a family of my own. One that would stand by me no matter what. But no matter how strong my grasp, I just couldn’t hold on to it.