She fascinated me, though. Even before I knew anything about her, I’d had the sense that there was more to her than met the eye. Something in her eyes, maybe—they were always trying to tell a story. For a long time, I couldn’t put my finger on it. But when I saw that photo from her ballet days, it started to make sense. Her life as she knew it had been cut short by a traumatic event.
I could relate to that. Maybe I’d somehow sensed we had that in common. Maybe that’s why I was drawn to her the moment I looked into her eyes.
I wanted to know more about her past, but I didn’t want to pry.
She caught me a bit off guard when she did some prying of her own.
“So…how many women do you date at once? I hear them over at your apartment from time to time, but I don’t know if they’re the same ones or different people.”
“Don’t hold back,” I said, eyes widening.
She blushed. “Sorry if I’m being nosy. I’m just curious.”
“I’m kidding. It’s alright.” I sighed and shrugged. “I date around. I’m not gonna lie. But I don’t sleep with all of them, as you’re probably assuming. Contrary to popular belief, it gets a bit exhausting.”
She pursed her lips. “Hmm... It’s interesting you say that.”
“Why?”
“I notice that you… Well…” she hesitated.
What is she getting at? “I what?”
“When I’ve…overheard things…”
“Yeah?” I prodded.
“I’ve noticed that you last a long time. I sometimes wonder if that’s stamina or—”
“Boredom?” I laughed.
“Yes. I suppose.”
I nodded. “Okay. Truth? That can be due to a lack of interest sometimes. Humans are not machines. I like sex—love it with the right person. But there are times when I’m not in the mood, or the chemistry wasn’t what I thought it was going to be.”
“Sorry for all the questions. I’m just living vicariously through someone who actually has a sex life.”
Maybe it was a dumb question, but I asked anyway. “Why can’t you have a sex life?”
“It’s kind of hard to go out and meet people when you have a baby. I can barely go to the bathroom.”
“Well, not for nothing, but if you put your photo out there, pretty sure you’d find a line of guys willing to make house calls.”
She shivered. “That’s kind of disturbing. I have to be careful who I bring around her.”
“I get that. I was mainly kidding—not about there being a line, but about that being a safe and feasible option for you.”
“Anyway, one-night stands are not my thing. I’ve never actually had one, and don’t think now is the right time to start.”
My curiosity grew by the second. “Your last relationship was Sunny’s father?”
“Yeah.” She looked down at her daughter. “He was the older, powerful, authority figure who drew me in with a false sense of security. He was apparently just using me to pass the time until he decided to go back to his ex-wife. It sucks, but it was a big life lesson—be careful who you trust.” She looked contemplative. “But, like I always say, I got Sunny out of it. Being a mother so young wasn’t something I planned, but I wouldn’t trade it.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Twenty-four.”
Damn. She was younger than I thought.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Twenty-nine.”
“Geezer.” She smiled. “Just kidding. I was going to guess in that range.”
“How old is your ex?”
“Thirty-eight.”
I wondered if she liked older men in general, or if that was just a one-off deal. There were a lot of things I wondered about Carys. Things I probably had no business knowing.
The baby seemed deep into sleep now. As I stared down at her sweet little face, those almond-shaped eyes and her pudgy little nose, I got the courage to ask something else I’d always wanted to know. I hoped it didn’t offend her.
“When did you find out that Sunny—”
She finished my thought. “When did I realize she had Down syndrome?”
“Yeah. I hope you don’t mind my asking.”
“Not at all. I like when people ask me about it. They shouldn’t be afraid.” She looked down at Sunny. “I didn’t know until she was born.”
My first thought was to say something like, “That must have been devastating.” But why? Why would it be devastating? Because she’s different? I chose to just let Carys continue, because I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.
“Of course it was shocking, you know? And at first, I was sad, like there was some kind of loss, but that was only because I was really ignorant about Down syndrome at the time. I was feeding off of other people’s reactions, which were to say things like ‘I’m sorry.’ Can you believe that? In retrospect, they were so wrong, even if they meant well. I’m sorry is something you say when someone dies, not when they’re born. I hope no one ever says I’m sorry to me in the future. Because they’d get an earful.”
See? My instinct to shut up was correct. “How long did it take you to realize it wasn’t something to fear?”
“I started going online and connecting with other parents of kids with Down’s, and it was a totally new world. When you see their kids thriving, happy, communicating, it tells a different story than one based on fear or misinformation.”
“Well, I’m definitely learning from this conversation. I’ve never known anyone with Down syndrome before Sunny. But I can clearly see that she’s a healthy, happy baby.”
Sunny continued to sleep through our whispered conversation.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Carys said. “She will definitely face challenges a typical kid wouldn’t. But overall, our day-to-day life is the same as if she didn’t have Down’s.” She stared off. “When people ask me, ‘what she has’ or ‘how I feel,’ I tell them she was blessed with an extra chromosome and leave it at that.”
I loved that. I nodded. “Everything is a matter of outlook.”
“That’s right. And I don’t view her as handicapped. Unique, maybe. But not handicapped.” Carys played with some lint on the couch. “They did tell me to expect her speech to be delayed. She started early-intervention services as soon as she was born. Someone comes to the apartment a couple of times a week. She might have to learn sign language before she starts talking, but I’ll take that as it comes. I’ll line up the best speech therapist. I’ll learn everything I can myself. But I already see her trying to communicate with me. Even if the words don’t form as clearly or as quickly as other kids, we’ll manage.”
I’d admired Carys before, but I had even more respect and admiration for her now. This girl is phenomenal. If only every kid with challenges was lucky enough to have a parent like her.
But what she said next broke my heart.
“I think the only time it ever really gets to me is when I’m out and about with her in public. You know how sometimes people see a baby and lean in to get a closer look? Well, some people do that to us. And sometimes, I see their faces go from happy to sympathetic when they realize she looks different. That makes me sad—not sad for me, but sad that people look at her as something unfortunate, something that would warrant a sympathetic look.” Her eyes watered, and she quickly wiped them. “I hate it, Deacon. Sorry. I don’t talk about this stuff often.”