“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.
“He slept through the whole movie,” Bess tells Aaron.
“Do you want me to take him now?”
Bess startles. “Oh, yeah,” she says, a tiny bit flustered. “Sure. Here.” She thrusts him toward Aaron.
“Thanks for watching him. I got to spend some time with Sam, so that was nice.” He settles Miles in his arms like he’s transferred a sleeping baby a million times, which I’m pretty sure he has.
“Sam. Oh, yeah. Right. Sam,” Bess says, like she’s still a little muddled. She scrubs her nose with the palm of her hand. “Did the girls enjoy the movie?”
“Very much.” He stares at Bess like he’s waiting for her to announce a revelation. But he’s smart enough not to goad her into it. “Well, I guess I had better get the girls to bed.” He stands up and instructs his girls to gather all their belongings and pick up any trash they left behind, and Mr. Jacobson loads them into his red golf cart to take them to the cabin. Then they’re gone.
I look up and see that Jake and Katie are walking toward the big house and they have all their children in tow. Suddenly, it’s just me and Bess left, and we’re still sitting on the blanket in the middle of the open field. Instead of getting up, Bess lies back on the blanket and stares up at the stars. She says nothing.
“Want some company?” I ask her.
“Sure,” she says hesitantly, like she’s not sure how to answer my question.
I lie down next to her and stare up at the stars. I point toward a constellation. “Jake told the kids that one is called piggly-wiggly.”
She giggles softly. “It does kind of look like a pig.” She turns her face toward me. “I’m sorry I got upset tonight.” Her voice is low and quiet.
I try to smile and reassure her, but it’s dark so I don’t think she even notices. “It’s fine, Bess. No harm done.” I reach over and pat her forearm with my fingertips. She doesn’t jerk away, and I am somewhat mollified by that.