I took the seat next to the bed and tried to peek at the baby without seeming like it. “Is he okay? I mean, he was born early and stuff.”
Not that I should care or anything. This thing was my and Aires’ replacement. But still, it was a small, defenseless baby and it should have been cooking in Ashley’s belly, not out too soon in this horrible world.
My dad gave me an honest-to-God smile. “He’s perfect.”
“Good.” I crossed my ankles and my foot rocked in rhythm to the finger tapping on my knee.
“Would you like to hold him?” Ashley asked.
Um … no. “Okay?”
My father retrieved the swaddled baby from Ashley’s arms and handed him to me. Becoming the queen of awkward, I moved my hands three times before I finally accepted him.
“Support his head and hold him close,” my father said. “That’s right. See, you’re a natural.”
“Sure.” People naturally wanted to run screaming when they held a baby. My heart rate rose when the little pink thing yawned and opened his eyes. He blinked three times and let them close again. When I blinked like that, a lie typically followed. I wondered how closely related we were.
“Would you like to know his name?” Ashley asked.
“Yeah. What’s his name?” Because people named their children and I was supposed to want to know.
My father caressed Ashley’s hand and answered, “Alexander Aires Emerson.”
A shiver ran through me until the name settled in my heart. Alexander’s little hand broke free from the blanket and grasped my finger. Aires. They named the baby after Aires.
Aires would have loved this baby, regardless of who his mother was, regardless of how our father treated him. Why? Because that’s the way he’d loved me. Aires loved me unconditionally. He loved me when I was a scared child. He loved me when I was a bratty preteen. He loved me as a hormonal teenager. When nobody else in this world could love me for being an unsure, self-absorbed, timid scaredy-cat, he loved me.
More than once, Aires had sucked up his pride for me. He took crap from my father, my mother and from Ashley to stick up for me. Aires did only one selfish thing in his life and that was to fulfill his dream of becoming a Marine, but even then, he fought for me. He wrote my father and Ashley letters, telling them to lay off. He called and wrote me all the time. He sacrificed his free time in order to be up-to-date on every detail of my life.
Aires would have moved heaven and earth for this baby, just like he had moved heaven and earth for me.
I’d thought repairing Aires’ car was going to fix my life. I’d thought the same thing about recovering my memory. But neither of those things fulfilled the magical hope I’d clung to—that somehow my life would rewind to three years before.
Alexander shifted in my arms. God, he was so small, and from the giddy looks on my father’s and Ashley’s faces, they already worshipped him. We all started off this way—small little bundles of joy. Me, Aires, Noah, Lila, Isaiah and even Beth. At some point, someone held and loved us, but somewhere along the way, it all got screwed up.
Not for this baby though—not for Alexander. Over the past few weeks, I’d learned several harsh lessons about myself. The most devastating? That I was selfish like my mom. Like her, I saw the world in black and white instead of the vibrant colors and shades I knew existed. And not only that, I’d chosen to see the world through her eyes instead of my own.
But not anymore. I could do more than rebuild a car to honor Aires. I could become the sibling he would have wanted me to be. Alexander would never face this world alone. He’d have an advocate—he’d have me. “Alexander Aires. I like it.”
Ashley let out a relieved breath and glanced at my father with a smile on her face. “I’m happy you’re here, Echo.”
Oddly enough … “Me, too.”
A nurse walked in with a rolling bassinet. “Sorry to intrude, but I’m here to take little Alexander to be weighed.” She expertly took Alexander from me and placed him in the bed. “And someone will be in to examine you, Mrs. Emerson.”
“He’ll want to eat soon, so don’t keep him long.” Ashley grasped my father’s hand and her blue eyes became worried.
“We’ll bring him right back,” the nurse assured her.
We watched him roll away. My father slid to the edge of the bed. “How are you?”
“Good.” For having a slight mental breakdown and remembering that my mom had tried that murder-suicide thing with me. “They released me.”
“Already? The doctors and nurses have been keeping me updated, but they told me you wouldn’t be released until two. I planned on being there to take you home.” He checked his watch. Sure enough, it was only one-thirty. “I promise I sat with you.”
“I know. Noah told me.”
My father exchanged a perplexed glance with Ashley. “Are you and Noah back together?”
Heat burned my cheeks at the thought of the way he kissed me in the hospital room. “Yeah.”
“He stayed with you, Echo. All night.” He stared down at his shoes as he spoke and I heard the heavy hint of regret. Noah stayed with me—he didn’t.
My mother’s words chose that moment to echo in my head. “You and I share the same skin.” No, Mom, we don’t. I share Aires’ skin. I’m going to do better than you.
Every few seconds Ashley’s face flickered between worry and hope. I’d loved her once. My mother reminded me of that. There was a time as a child I possibly could have called her Mom without feeling a twinge of regret. Yes, things happened. A marriage failed and a family fell apart, but Ashley … Ashley wasn’t evil. “I’m sorry, Ashley.”
Her forehead furrowed. “For what?”
I forced myself to look at her. “For always blaming you.” Ashley’s eyes watered. I swallowed my pride and continued, “My mom isn’t who I thought she was, so maybe you’re not the person I’ve made you out to be either.”