skin with my nails, and the pain feels good, makes me feel better for a brief moment, long enough that I can pull my emotions together and get control over myself. I touch a hand to my stomach, drop it down low, feel around my vagina, teasing, probing. Everything was fine last night when Ty and I made love. Everything felt okay, but … I don't know what to do. Tell Ty should be the obvious choice, but then I wonder again if I'm just imagining it. The panties look clean now, and I have been a little off lately. It can't have been as bad as I thought. It was just some spotting. I tell myself to woman up and get over it. Being pregnant is like earning a badge of courage or some shit. It separates the girls from the women.
By the time Ty climbs in beside me, I'm feeling better, but I don't want to lie. Out of fucking everything that's happened, I know that's one sacred bond I won't break. So I tell him about it and he looks sick to his freaking stomach. I promise him I'll go to the doctor at some point in the not too far off future and change the subject, but the fear is still etched around his mouth.
I watch it follow him out of the shower, into a black T-shirt with and jeans, a pair of brown boots. I watch it chase him as he switches out his facial piercings for silver studs. I watch it harangue him while he moves down the stairs and into the living room, searching for his son.
“Hey Mini McCabe,” he says as he takes the baby from India and gives him a kiss on the head. I pause at the bottom of the stairs and feel suddenly shy, like I don't know what to do with these two men. Ty and me alone is okay, but with the baby, I just … I'm not good at family dynamics. I love my sisters, but I've been out of the loop for so long. Ty just stands there and stares at me. “You okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. I nod and try to smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes and he can tell. He tries to hand me the baby, but I don't hold out my arms and instead cross them over my chest.
You are a mom, Never. This is your son. This is your baby. Kiss him and hold and let him know that you love him more than you love yourself, that you wouldn't trade him for anything in this world, that you care.
I find myself frozen, embarrassed, ashamed. Ty takes the baby back and presses him into his chest, tilting his head to the side and examining me like he isn't quite sure what to make of this.
“Nev, he wants to see you,” Ty tells me, and I almost breakthrough the storm cloud that's hanging over my head, shirk off the dark for a brief moment, and step forward. But then I see Angelica, and I just go blank. The bitch will always affect me, no matter what I think. I've cut her off, but the emotional ties I had to sever still bleed every now and again.
“Can I see him?” she asks, fairly unceremoniously. Ty looks at her and then back at me, asking what he should do with his eyes. “Hello?” Angelica asks, getting annoyed. Ty waits for another second, but when I don't respond, he spins the baby around and lets my mother look. Just look. Maybe touch. But not hold. Not without my expression permission. Angelica purses her pretty lips and adjusts a copper curl that's fallen into her face. “I'd like to hold my grandson.”
“You forgot your daughter's birthday,” Ty responds, not at all apologetic about it. He's pissed, and he isn't even talking about me. He's talking about Darla. Beth planned a huge party for her last month, decorated the whole house, even convinced Ty and me to get on Skype and participate. She told my mom a hundred times; my sisters told her a thousand; Darla a million.
She didn't show up.
“It was a mistake,” Angelica grounds out between her teeth. They used to be pretty and straight, but now they're starting to yellow, and they look crooked to me. I could be imagining it, but maybe not.
“It was a date,” Ty says with a shrug. “You can say hi to my kid, but you're not holding him. You haven't earned that
By the time Ty climbs in beside me, I'm feeling better, but I don't want to lie. Out of fucking everything that's happened, I know that's one sacred bond I won't break. So I tell him about it and he looks sick to his freaking stomach. I promise him I'll go to the doctor at some point in the not too far off future and change the subject, but the fear is still etched around his mouth.
I watch it follow him out of the shower, into a black T-shirt with and jeans, a pair of brown boots. I watch it chase him as he switches out his facial piercings for silver studs. I watch it harangue him while he moves down the stairs and into the living room, searching for his son.
“Hey Mini McCabe,” he says as he takes the baby from India and gives him a kiss on the head. I pause at the bottom of the stairs and feel suddenly shy, like I don't know what to do with these two men. Ty and me alone is okay, but with the baby, I just … I'm not good at family dynamics. I love my sisters, but I've been out of the loop for so long. Ty just stands there and stares at me. “You okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. I nod and try to smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes and he can tell. He tries to hand me the baby, but I don't hold out my arms and instead cross them over my chest.
You are a mom, Never. This is your son. This is your baby. Kiss him and hold and let him know that you love him more than you love yourself, that you wouldn't trade him for anything in this world, that you care.
I find myself frozen, embarrassed, ashamed. Ty takes the baby back and presses him into his chest, tilting his head to the side and examining me like he isn't quite sure what to make of this.
“Nev, he wants to see you,” Ty tells me, and I almost breakthrough the storm cloud that's hanging over my head, shirk off the dark for a brief moment, and step forward. But then I see Angelica, and I just go blank. The bitch will always affect me, no matter what I think. I've cut her off, but the emotional ties I had to sever still bleed every now and again.
“Can I see him?” she asks, fairly unceremoniously. Ty looks at her and then back at me, asking what he should do with his eyes. “Hello?” Angelica asks, getting annoyed. Ty waits for another second, but when I don't respond, he spins the baby around and lets my mother look. Just look. Maybe touch. But not hold. Not without my expression permission. Angelica purses her pretty lips and adjusts a copper curl that's fallen into her face. “I'd like to hold my grandson.”
“You forgot your daughter's birthday,” Ty responds, not at all apologetic about it. He's pissed, and he isn't even talking about me. He's talking about Darla. Beth planned a huge party for her last month, decorated the whole house, even convinced Ty and me to get on Skype and participate. She told my mom a hundred times; my sisters told her a thousand; Darla a million.
She didn't show up.
“It was a mistake,” Angelica grounds out between her teeth. They used to be pretty and straight, but now they're starting to yellow, and they look crooked to me. I could be imagining it, but maybe not.
“It was a date,” Ty says with a shrug. “You can say hi to my kid, but you're not holding him. You haven't earned that
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