Paul
It’s almost eight at night, and Friday still isn’t home. Hayley is with her mom this week, so I don’t have much else to do except pace and wait for Friday to come home. I can’t f*cking believe she left me like that on the subway platform. She won. For now. But when I find her, I’m going to get her spill her guts and tell me her secrets. She’s carrying an awfully big burden, and I wish she’d let me help her with it.
My phone buzzes, and it’s Logan sending me another picture of Kit. This time, she has a piece of paper on her belly that says, I wonder when my Uncle Paul is going to come and visit.
I shake my head and grin. Then I grab the keys to my motorcycle and go down to the garage to get it. I won it in a card game, and I can count the number of times I’ve ridden it on one hand. Logan uses it a lot more than I do. But it’s getting late, and I don’t want to ride the subway at this time of night. I never get accosted because of the way I look, but I do get a lot of curious glares because of the tats and piercings. People push their children behind their legs, and women put their purses on the other sides of their bodies, like I’m going to steal from them or something. Just because I have tattoos does not mean I am poor, a thief, or in need of their hard-earned cash.
I park at the hospital and go up to the ward where Emily is still waiting to be sent home. I knock softly and open the door. I stick my head in and see Emily sitting in a chair with Kit pulled close to her breast. She rocks and motions me forward. She points toward the bed and rolls her eyes.
“He got tired,” she says, shaking her head.
Logan is stretched out in the hospital bed with his mouth hanging open. The best thing about having a brother who is deaf is that he can sleep through anything, so I don’t even worry about talking while he’s sleeping. I sit down across from Emily, and she just stares at me.
“She was here a few minutes ago,” Emily says. She quirks her brow.
“Who?” I ask. I try to look like I have no idea what she is talking about.
She snorts. “Who do you think?”
I don’t say anything. Emily pops the baby off her breast with a grimace and fixes her shirt. She does it all under a blanket, so it’s not the least little bit weird. Then she hands Kit to me and throws a burp cloth over my shoulder.
“See if you can burp her,” she says with a laugh.
“I just happen to be a master burper,” I say to Kit. She squirms in my arms like a caterpillar trying to makes its way out of a cocoon. I put her gently on my shoulder and pat her on the back. “When are you going home?” I ask Emily.
“Tomorrow morning,” she says.
“Everything okay?” I ask. Kit lets out the sweetest and loudest burp next to my ear, and it makes me laugh. “Good one. You sound like your daddy,” I say to her as I lower her in my arms and cradle her close to me.
“Everything is fine.” She jerks her thumb toward Logan. “I told him to go home and get some sleep, because we’re not going to get much rest when she comes home. But he refused.”
“He’s smart,” I say to Kit, making baby talk. “His mama taught him right from wrong,” I say in a singsong voice, talking to the baby still.
“He sounded like Henry, telling me that he can’t sleep without me. Without us.” Henry is a dear old friend of ours whose wife died recently. He was the doorman in Emily’s building when she came back to town, and he’s part of all our lives now. Her eyes well with tears as she looks over at Kit. She swipes a hand beneath her nose.
“I’m so glad he found you,” I say to Emily. I look directly into her eyes when I say it so that I won’t confuse her. I want to be very clear. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to him.”
“He’s the only one who ever accepted me exactly as I am.”
“Hey!” I cry in playful protest. “We all accepted you.”
She smiles softly. “The Reeds are a special bunch.”
“You can blame that on our mom,” I tell her.
The room goes silent for a minute, and I take in the beauty that is their daughter. She is asleep already, and she looks so peaceful. She’s perfect. “How was Friday?” I finally ask in the silence.
Emily shrugs. “She’s Friday.”
“Is she coming home tonight?” I ask. I brush my hands along the silken down on top of Kit’s head.
“Probably,” she says.
I heave a sigh and pinch the skin at the bridge of my nose.
“Keep pushing her,” she says.
I jerk my head up. That was the last thing I expected her to say. “What?”
“Keep pushing her,” she says again. “She’s got a lot of baggage. And you can’t help her carry it until she’s willing to present it to you. So, keep pushing.”
“You know?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I just know someone who’s hiding. I did it myself. I can see the signs. She desperately wants someone to find her. And probably for someone to forgive her for whatever she did, so she can forgive herself.” She shrugs. “I’m just guessing, of course. I could be completely wrong.”
“I doubt it.”
“Don’t worry about being gentle. Just be yourself. You know what to say and do.” She looks at me with a soft smile on her face.
“Did she talk to you?” I ask. I wince inwardly. I should be asking Friday all of these things.
“About being a surrogate?”
I nod.
“Yeah, we talked about it when she offered to do it.”
Well, that surprises me. “I didn’t realize you were that close.”
“No one is close to Friday,” she says. Then she looks directly into my eyes. “Except you.”
I laugh, but there’s humor in the sound. “I am about as far away from Friday as anyone can get. She’s got so many f*cking walls that I can’t get a peep over them, much less get around them.”
“Eventually, she’ll open the door and let you walk in.”
I look up when the literal door opens. Friday startles and looks at me. “I forgot my purse again,” Friday says quietly. She points to a bag lying in the chair beside me. I didn’t even see it there.
Emily pushes to her feet and goes to the bed, where she roughly shoves Logan. He jumps and grunts, his eyes flying open. That’s exactly the same way I’ve woken him up since he lost his hearing. It’s the only way to get his attention. “Come and take me for a walk,” Emily tells him. He stands and stretches.
Babysitters, she signs at him.
He furrows his brow at her, and she just nods toward the door. “Oh,” he says. “A walk.” He looks toward Kit. “Are you sure she’ll be all right?”
“I just fed her. Let’s go.” She takes his hand and leads him from the room. They let the door close behind them.
Friday reaches for her purse, but I stretch out and catch her hand in mine. “Please don’t go,” I say. “Please.”
She nods, biting her lower lip between her teeth. “Okay,” she breathes. She sits down beside me and fidgets. I lean over and place Kit in her arms and then press a kiss to her temple.
“Let me love you,” I say softly. Then I sit back and I watch her as she arranges Kit in her lap so that she can look into the baby’s face.
Silence sinks over the room like a wet, heavy blanket. “He was perfect,” she says quietly. “He looked like me. He had dark-blue eyes and freckles and he wasn’t but a minute old. Then I never got to see him again. Not close up. They took him from me, and I didn’t even get to hold him.”
“Where is he now?” My throat clogs so tight with emotion that I have to cough past it.
“He’s with a wonderful family that adopted him when he was a day old.” She finally looks up at me, and her eyes shimmer with tears. One drops down her cheek, and she doesn’t brush it away. “They send me pictures every six months. He’s beautiful. He plays baseball, and he loves trains.”
“We all do what we have to do to survive,” I say.
She snorts. I pass her a tissue because it almost comes out like a sob. “I was fifteen and completely alone.” She unwraps Kit and counts her toes and fingers. “She’s going to play guitar like her mom,” she says. “Look at these fingers.” Kit grips Friday’s finger in her sleep, and Friday wraps her back up.
I don’t say anything because I don’t think she wants me to.
“His name is Jacob,” she says. She smiles. “I have his footprints and his date of birth on my inner thigh. Pete did it for me.”
F*cking Pete. He knew all this time and didn’t tell me. “Little f*cker,” I grumble.
“Pete knows the value of a well-placed secret.”
I’m glad she had someone to tell her secrets to. I hope someday, it’ll be me. “I treasure your secrets. I’ll hold them close to my heart and keep them between us and only us, always.”
She smiles. “I know.”
She takes a deep breath, and I feel like she’s just relieved some of her burden.
“You’ve never seen him?”
“No. I’m allowed to. It was an open adoption. But I never have.”
“Why not?”
“I’m afraid that if I ever get my hands on him I won’t be able to let him go.” Her voice breaks again. “Or worse—what if I see him and he hates me? I wouldn’t be able to stand myself. It’s hard enough knowing that he doesn’t know who I am. If he hates me, too, I won’t be able to take it.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I say softly.
“I should have told you sooner. I’m very sorry I didn’t.”
“You’re it for me. You know that, right?” I blurt out.
The words hang there like a lit firecracker between us. I can see the fuse burning, and I’m just waiting for it to explode.
“I know you want me to be it. But I’m not sure that I am. I think you can do better.”
“I disagree.” No doubt about it.
“Can you give me some time?”
“How much?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll know when I know.”
“I guess I’ll know when you know.” I chuckle. But my heart feels so much lighter. I meant to take her burden from her, but I know I didn’t because I don’t feel any heavier. If anything, I feel lighter, just knowing she shared with me.
The door opens, and Emily and Logan walk back into the room. Logan looks from Friday to me and back, and then he smiles and his chest bellows with air.
“What?” I ask.
“Dude, I’m just glad she didn’t kill you. That’s all.” He makes a scratching like a cat motion with his hands and says, “Meow!”
She f*cking kills me every time she turns those green eyes on me. But I’d die a thousand deaths just for one look from her. “Are you ready to go home?” I ask her.
She nods and hands Kit to Logan. He takes her, already looking like he’s comfortable with Kit. He’s her dad. I guess he should be. Logan kisses Friday’s cheek, and I pull Emily to me and hug her. “Thank you,” I say in her ear.
Emily chucks my shoulder and doesn’t say anything.
We walk out, and I realize that I can’t put Friday on the back of my bike because she’s pregnant, so I don’t even let her know it’s there. I flag a cab and get in it with her. I’ll get my bike tomorrow. I text Logan and tell him it’s there if he needs to use it. He replies and tells me that he’ll see to it.
I pull Friday into me, and she lays her face on my shirt. Her hot breaths trickle down my collar and make me feel all warm inside.
“Just give me some time,” she says quietly against my chest.
I nod, and the bottom of my chin brushes the top of her head, so she’s aware that I’ve responded. She takes a deep breath and settles into me.
When we get home, I really want to take her to my bed. I want to hold her and be sure she’s all right. But she says good night to me at her door, and she closes it behind her. I stand there and feel peaceful just knowing she’s safe in my house, close to me. And so are her memories.