To my son, Gavin. You have the biggest heart and the biggest brain of any six year-old I know. I love you to the moon and back, buddy.
“I’m nervous,” Tyson whispers, rubbing his hands together as though he’s trying to warm them up.
Peeking my head around him, I glance into the living room. Max is sitting on the couch, his iPad in hand, and I have no doubt that he’s completely immersed in Subway Surfers. He has absolutely no idea what’s about to happen.
“Baby,” I say, looking back at Tyson. “You’re overreacting. Max is going to be excited, and I, for one, can’t wait to tell him.”
“But what if he’s not?” he counters. “What if he—?”
Pulling Tyson in close, I plant my lips on his, effectively shutting him up. Of course, I’m the one who ends up melting into him, and when he pulls back—far too soon—my lips follow his, hoping he’ll catch the hint and come back for more.
“That’s not fair,” he says, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You’re trying to distract me.”
I shrug. “You’re easily distracted. And you’re being a bit ridiculous. It’s a baby.” Those last three words cause my heart to swell. We’re having a baby. “Who wouldn’t be excited about a baby?”
“I know,” he says, scrunching his nose. “It’s just that Max has had you to himself … well … forever. And all of sudden I barge into your lives—”
“Not all of a sudden,” I interrupt. “Yes, he had me to himself for five years, but you’ve been a part of our lives for the last year and a half.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Tyson shakes his head. “You’ve been his, and then out of nowhere he had to share you with me, and now he’s going to be sharing you with a brother or sister. I just think that it’s not going to be all peachy like you think it’s going to be, and I’m worried.”
“About nothing. We’ll tell Max”—grabbing Tyson’s hand, I slide it to my still flat belly—“about the baby and then just take it one step at a time after that. Trust me, everything will be fine.”
“Okay,” he says, letting out a petulant sigh. I push up on my tiptoes, brushing my lips over his one last time—for good luck, and not at all because he’s smokin’ hot and all mine. “Let’s do this.”
“You first,” he says, stepping to the side.
I can’t help but chuckle. Here is this big, tough man that takes on the world every single day and he’s afraid to talk to a child.
Grabbing Tyson’s hand, I lead the way into the living room, then Tyson surprises me when he says something first. “Hey, buddy.”
Max grunts without sparing Tyson a glance. “Can you put the iPad down for a second? Your mom and I have something we want to talk to you about.”
“I didn’t do it,” Max replies, his tiny fingers still flying over the screen.
“You didn’t do what?” I ask, grabbing the iPad from Max’s hands.
“Hey!” Max’s head pops up, brows furrowed. “I was in the middle of a game.”
“You can have the game back in a minute.” Setting the tablet down on the coffee table, I take a seat next to Max while Tyson sits on the recliner. “But first, Tyson and I have something we want to tell you.”
“Fine.” He crosses his arms over his chest with a huff. “Tell me.”
Max’s lips are pinched into a thin line, and I can’t help but wonder what happened to my happy-go-lucky little boy. It’s not that Max isn’t happy, but he’s definitely developed an attitude that I wasn’t at all prepared for.
“Well …” Clearing my throat, I glance at Tyson. He gives me a reassuring smile and a nod, confirming what I already knew—it’s my job to tell Max. Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders, straighten my back and remind myself that having a baby is a gift, and something I wasn’t sure I’d ever experience again. “I’m pregnant! You’re going to be a big brother,” I say, trying my best to make it sound cool and exciting. The look on Max’s face tells me that he considers this neither cool nor exciting.
His lips part and his jaw nearly hits the floor as his big brown eyes stare back at me. He glances at Tyson and then back at me while I wait for him to say something … anything. Blinking several times, Max’s gaze drops to my stomach, and I instinctively place my hand over it.
“I’m only twelve weeks,” I say somewhat defensively, though I have no idea why. “Say something, Max.” I hate how silent he’s being, and I can’t help but wonder if Tyson was right. Maybe to Max, this isn’t welcome news. The only question is why?
“No.” One word. A word I’ve heard come from Max’s mouth more and more these days. But this time it’s different—this time he isn’t being defiant. The sincerity in his voice is like a slap in the face. “I don’t want a brother.”
“It could be a girl,” Tyson suggests.
A look of utter disbelief slides onto Max’s face and he swivels his head toward Tyson. “I don’t want a sister either.”