Katie throws a bag of popped microwave popcorn in my direction and I catch it and pass it to Eli. He opens it and tosses a few pieces into his mouth.
Katie and Jake have their huge family spread out around them. Mr. Jacobson is in a chair, and Gabby and Alex are in chairs next to him. The little kids are playing with toys on their blanket.
When it gets dark enough, Jake goes and starts the projector. It’s the same old projector that Mr. Jacobson used when we were young. And the same old movie. It’s the same old feeling. The reel begins to play, the lilting tunes so familiar that I feel like I know them by heart.
“Want to lie on me?” Eli asks. He pats his lap.
“Oh…no.” I swallow down a gulp of discomfort. “I’m fine.”
His smile slackens a little. “Okay, Bess,” he says softly. But he doesn’t move away. In fact, his hand inches closer to mine as he leans back on his palms. His pinky touches the edge of mine and a jolt moves through me. He doesn’t look in my direction or acknowledge that he’s touching me at all, and for that I am grateful. The movie begins to play, and he passes me the bag of popcorn. I dump some into my shirt and pass it back to him. He sits with his legs crossed, and his knee brushes against mine. He doesn’t pull it back.
Halfway through the movie, Eli leans over close to me. “I’m going to run to the bushes,” he says. “Be right back.” His popcorn-scented breath warms my cheek, and the air cools a little in his absence.
Suddenly, Aaron jerks me out of my movie haze when he drops down next to me. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey. You okay?” I ask.
“Fine, but Kerry-Anne needs to go to the bathroom, and I don’t want to send her off by herself in the dark. Can you hold Miles? He’s asleep.” He thrusts the child in my direction, not allowing me to decline, as he settles him into my lap. Holding Miles is like holding a leggy potato, heavy and solid, but not all at the same time. “Be right back,” he whispers.
I look around, desperate to find somebody to take this baby out of my arms. Eli is still peeing in the bushes; I can’t even find his silhouette in the dark. And everyone else is staring at the movie. Jake has a sleeping toddler in his own lap, and Katie is holding their smallest one in her arms as she rocks him side to side. There is no one to save me.
I look down into Miles’s sleeping face and immediately notice the dark lashes that touch his cheeks. They’re long like Lynda’s, and full. His little lips are puckered like an unopened rosebud, and his cheeks are rosy, maybe from where Aaron had been holding him while he slept.
While I stare down at him, something breaks loose inside me, and I desperately try to swallow past the lump in my throat but it won’t move. I blink hard but the tears come anyway. One rolls down the side of my nose, and I can’t brush it away because my arms are full. They’re full with a baby in them. There’s a whole baby resting in my arms, one that’s living and breathing and filled with so much potential. I sniffle, and bring him closer to me, holding him snug, like I couldn’t do just a minute before.
Eli comes back and sinks down next to me. He glances over and sees me with Miles. I sit with my eyes closed and tears rolling down my face. I tilt my head down hoping he won’t see. But Eli sees everything. I sniffle out loud and I know that he knows.
“Oh, Bess,” he whispers. He scoots over closer to me and presses his body against mine, his chest against my side. He presses his forehead against my temple, and I feel his lips against my cheek. “Oh, Bess,” he says again. “I’m so sorry.” But he doesn’t move away. “Do you want me to take him?”
“No,” I whisper out over a choked sob. “He’s fine. I can hold him.” I want to hold him. I need to hold him.
He scoots closer still, so close that he has to stretch one leg out behind me as his arms wrap around me. “Are you sure?”
I nod, and Eli lifts his arm in front of my face. I immediately wipe my tear-stained face on his shirt sleeve. I don’t even think about it.
“I’m so sorry,” he says again.
“For what?”
“For not being able to give you everything you need.” He sucks in a big breath, and I feel him wipe his nose on my shoulder. Then he presses a kiss to my temple, his lips lingering by my ear. His breath is as hot and heavy as his words. “I wish I could have done a better job.”
I lean into him and hold that baby, letting Eli support us both.
A shadow falls over us and I know that Aaron is back. The shadow pauses over me for just a moment, but Aaron keeps walking back to his blanket, where he sits down with his girls. And I hold that baby, and Eli holds me. And I let him.
23
Eli
Her heart has been broken so many times, and I can’t help but feel guilty for that. But watching her work through it as we sit there in the dark is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Eventually, she stops trembling. Eventually, she stops sniffling. Eventually, she loosens the snug grip she has on Miles and just holds him as though she holds sleeping babies all the time and a dam didn’t just break inside her.
And that’s all he is. He’s a sleeping infant. He’s Aaron’s sleeping infant, and I know that she will have to return Miles to Aaron. She knows it too; I’m perfectly aware of that. But something shifted inside her tonight. I felt it when it happened. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the shift scares the fuck out of me. In my head, it will either make her need me more, or it will make her not need me at all, and I’m not ready to find out just yet which one it is.
So when the movie ends and the credits roll, I gently loosen my limbs from around her and sit back a little. I feel sticky where our skin has been pressed together, and the cool night air is like a balm to it as we get a few inches between us.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
She looks at me there in the dark, and her eyes actually meet mine for the first time in so long that it takes me aback. It startles me, and I have to force myself not to show it. For so long, her gaze has avoided mine. For so long, she has pushed me away. But right now, in this moment, I feel connected to her again.
“I’m okay,” she says. She looks down at Miles “He slept through the whole movie.”
“I’ve learned this week that when he’s out, he’s really out.” I grab his foot and give it a jiggle. He doesn’t move. “He’s a good sleeper.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him cry,” she says.
“He makes a fuss if he’s hungry, if he has a dirty diaper, or if he’s tired, but aside from that he’s a pretty easygoing baby.”
“I think it’s weird that he never cries.” She lets out a loose giggle. “It’s like Lynda and Aaron made some kind of kid with superpowers or something.”
“Lynda might have been capable of such a feat, but I assure you that I am just a normal man,” Aaron says from beside me as he squats down. “Still asleep, huh?” He looks at Bess and stares at her. Her face is normal. Her eyes aren’t swollen from her crying, nor does she have any evidence of her emotional upheaval on her face. The only thing different about her is the fact that she’s holding a child in her arms, a baby. She’s not pushing it away or thwarting its need for care. She’s engaged. She’s honestly somewhat enthralled.