outside, I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a busy intersection wearing just panties and a bra, as if my secrets are not my own.
“Neil,” I sputter, my eyes suddenly latching on to his. “Baby, he–he’s adorable. He is.” Get your mind off yourself, Anya, I think. The world exists for more than you.
Feeling a little awkward, I rub Braxton’s cheek with my finger several times, noticing the softness of his skin. His huge brown eyes sparkle and he coos softly.
We continue taking lazy steps along the narrow path, then come to a stop when a wig-wearing woman dressed in a velour JLo track outfit smiles at us. We smile back.
“He is sooo good-looking,” she says. “What a fine boy you have there. Is this your first one?”
“No,” I snap, and stop smiling.
“Well, he looks just like you,” she says, and points at me.
I burst out laughing and clutch my stomach. Neil mutters, “Excuse us,” and abandons me, pushing the baby buggy over the rocky pathway. The wheels are turning and spinning and making ugly noises while clanking against the granite.
“Hey, wait for me,” I say. I catch up with Neil and grab his rigid arm until he comes to a stop. “You want me to push the baby? Even better, I’ll hold him.” I undo the straps and lift Braxton from his seat. “Hi, Brax.” He smells fresh, young, innocent. I can’t hate this baby. I can’t hate him. Instead of seeing him as a threat, why can’t I see him as the opposite, a miracle, which is what he seems more than anything? Braxton grabs my finger and squeezes. I surprise myself and giggle. It’s like he’s saying I’m cool with him. And that’s cool with me.
9
----
Anya
It’s the next weekend. Friday night. I’m in bed. Thirty minutes past mid-
night the phone rings. I lean over and place the receiver against my ear.
“Hello,” I mumble.
“Uh, hi, this is, uh, Dani. Uh, I was just wondering…” Her voice sounds frightfully fragile.
I sit up in bed and flip the switch on the lamp. “You were wondering…?”
“Is, uh, Braxton there?”
“The baby? Or is that what you call Neil?”
“Nooo, I’m talking about the baby.”
“Uh, look, Danielle. I don’t know why you’d call here asking about your own child. I mean, why don’t you
know
where he is? Wouldn’t he be with you?”
“I think there was a mix-up. Maybe it’s not…” Her voice drifts away, like it’s trying to catch up with her foggy mind.
“Are you all right?” I slide my warm feet to the carpeted floor and stand. I hear mumbling. She sounds as groggy as me.
“Danielle,” I say louder, “you want me to get Neil on the phone?” She’s breathing heavy, grunting. Listening to her makes my heart pound violently, like it’s beating its fists against me and wants to lunge through my chest.
“Oh, no, no. Uh…”
I toss the phone on my bed and stomp loudly down the stairs, race through the hallway, and stop at the library. I knock once and open the door, which squeaks and moans.
“Neil, Dani’s on the phone. She’s talking crazy
.
She’s talking
crazy.
Pick up the line down here and see what’s wrong.”
Neil bounds off the couch, almost falling back down as soon as he gets to his feet. He blinks a couple times. I grab his hand and lead him to the den. It feels odd to touch his fingers. It’s like I accidentally reached out and held a stranger’s hand. First I turn on the lamp, then press a button so that the speakerphone is activated.
“Here.” I point. “Talk to her.”
“Dani, what’s wrong?”
“Neil.” Dani’s shaky voice crackles through the line. “Braxton—is he with you?”
“Yes, didn’t you know? Didn’t Audrey tell you?”
I cast a sharp look at Neil. He averts his eyes.
I hear silence, then a swear word. “Nooo, Neil. No, she did not. Oh gosh, I feel like such a fool. Well, what happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Audrey was baby-sitting, like you arranged, but she called me and said she had an
“Neil,” I sputter, my eyes suddenly latching on to his. “Baby, he–he’s adorable. He is.” Get your mind off yourself, Anya, I think. The world exists for more than you.
Feeling a little awkward, I rub Braxton’s cheek with my finger several times, noticing the softness of his skin. His huge brown eyes sparkle and he coos softly.
We continue taking lazy steps along the narrow path, then come to a stop when a wig-wearing woman dressed in a velour JLo track outfit smiles at us. We smile back.
“He is sooo good-looking,” she says. “What a fine boy you have there. Is this your first one?”
“No,” I snap, and stop smiling.
“Well, he looks just like you,” she says, and points at me.
I burst out laughing and clutch my stomach. Neil mutters, “Excuse us,” and abandons me, pushing the baby buggy over the rocky pathway. The wheels are turning and spinning and making ugly noises while clanking against the granite.
“Hey, wait for me,” I say. I catch up with Neil and grab his rigid arm until he comes to a stop. “You want me to push the baby? Even better, I’ll hold him.” I undo the straps and lift Braxton from his seat. “Hi, Brax.” He smells fresh, young, innocent. I can’t hate this baby. I can’t hate him. Instead of seeing him as a threat, why can’t I see him as the opposite, a miracle, which is what he seems more than anything? Braxton grabs my finger and squeezes. I surprise myself and giggle. It’s like he’s saying I’m cool with him. And that’s cool with me.
9
----
Anya
It’s the next weekend. Friday night. I’m in bed. Thirty minutes past mid-
night the phone rings. I lean over and place the receiver against my ear.
“Hello,” I mumble.
“Uh, hi, this is, uh, Dani. Uh, I was just wondering…” Her voice sounds frightfully fragile.
I sit up in bed and flip the switch on the lamp. “You were wondering…?”
“Is, uh, Braxton there?”
“The baby? Or is that what you call Neil?”
“Nooo, I’m talking about the baby.”
“Uh, look, Danielle. I don’t know why you’d call here asking about your own child. I mean, why don’t you
know
where he is? Wouldn’t he be with you?”
“I think there was a mix-up. Maybe it’s not…” Her voice drifts away, like it’s trying to catch up with her foggy mind.
“Are you all right?” I slide my warm feet to the carpeted floor and stand. I hear mumbling. She sounds as groggy as me.
“Danielle,” I say louder, “you want me to get Neil on the phone?” She’s breathing heavy, grunting. Listening to her makes my heart pound violently, like it’s beating its fists against me and wants to lunge through my chest.
“Oh, no, no. Uh…”
I toss the phone on my bed and stomp loudly down the stairs, race through the hallway, and stop at the library. I knock once and open the door, which squeaks and moans.
“Neil, Dani’s on the phone. She’s talking crazy
.
She’s talking
crazy.
Pick up the line down here and see what’s wrong.”
Neil bounds off the couch, almost falling back down as soon as he gets to his feet. He blinks a couple times. I grab his hand and lead him to the den. It feels odd to touch his fingers. It’s like I accidentally reached out and held a stranger’s hand. First I turn on the lamp, then press a button so that the speakerphone is activated.
“Here.” I point. “Talk to her.”
“Dani, what’s wrong?”
“Neil.” Dani’s shaky voice crackles through the line. “Braxton—is he with you?”
“Yes, didn’t you know? Didn’t Audrey tell you?”
I cast a sharp look at Neil. He averts his eyes.
I hear silence, then a swear word. “Nooo, Neil. No, she did not. Oh gosh, I feel like such a fool. Well, what happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Audrey was baby-sitting, like you arranged, but she called me and said she had an
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