“I won’t do that to Lauren, Mom. Not until I’m sure I can give her everything she deserves.”
Mom steps in front of me and comes to a halt, forcing me to stop. “It isn’t about ability, Mikey, it’s about willingness, and—” She gives me a stern look when I open my mouth to argue, the same stare that has been able to shut me up since I was a kid. “And I’m not saying yourunwillingness isn’t justified, baby, but every barrier you put up in the past eight years melted the second that girl came in your line of sight.” Then she lets out a heavy sigh full of too many years of carrying around the burden of seeing your child lose himself on a path of self-destruction. “Davey told me after that first call, but I didn’t believe him until now. How could he know without ever even meeting her?”
“Twins.” I shrug, and my mom raises an eyebrow with a smile. She knows I’m right, though.
“Your problem isn’t your inability to love Lauren, Mikey. It’s your unwillingness to accept that you already do.” And with those definitive words, she turns and walks away.
“Damn stubborn family,” I mutter under my breath as I follow her out. I know they’re doing it out of love, and I know they’re all spot on.
But no matter how hard I try, that last barrier just won’t fucking break.
I don’t have an issue with Lauren, the woman who lights up every dim part of my life with her smile. I’m even starting to make peace with Lauren, the woman who forces the bad memories to vacate my mind and make room for good new ones. But every time I think about the baby, every time I think about her as Lauren, mother of my child, all I can see is the autopsy results, that one black and white sonogram polaroid with a peanut that was supposed to become a baby. Naomi’s baby.Mybaby.
All the way to the apartment, Trista and Lauren are chatting and laughing in the backseat as I sneak glances through the rearview mirror, and I’m unable to hold back a smile at how they’re both radiating at being reunited.
And when we get to the house? Emily clicks with Lauren so well it’s as if they’ve been friends forever.
“You’ve officially drowned us in blondes,” Davey states with that warm gaze only his girls manage to bring out of him as he watches Lauren, Trista, and Em sing and dance “Baby Shark” with Cara and Leah, who are playing the little fish and running around in glee.
“No, I only brought one. You produced two out of the five, and the third is your wife,” I point out. “Youdrowned us in blondes.”
“Fair point,” he concedes with a grin, ducking into the mix of girls and swooping the twins under his arms, spinning as they squeal in utter delight. “Time to go home, little Smurffettes.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” Emily asks Lauren with an embrace, and she nods with a broad smile before hugging Trista as well. Mom’s next before they all go through me on the way out. And then we’re alone.
“Finally, some quiet.” I dramatically wipe my forehead.
“Don’t get too used to it.” Lauren pats her stomach, and I grin.
“I have a surprise for you,” I take her hand, indicating for her to follow me to the kitchen and opening the overhead cupboard where I put all the cups and mugs.
“Mikey.” She laughs, her face lighting up when she sees the set of Unipug mugs with an assortment of cute puns.
“And I hereby solemnly swear to never ever drink from them.” I place one hand over my heart and hold the other up in a scout’s honor position.
“You can haveone.” Lauren examines the mugs, a sly grin spreading over her face, and I know instantly which mug she’s going to hand me. The dirty meaning went over my head when I was choosing them; it just seemed cute back then.
“Lore…” I warn, heat climbing to my face even as the bouts of laughter burst out, and I hang my head, stretching out my hand as I accept my punishment. A Unipug with the silliest expression, tongue hanging out as its head cocks to the side. Above it in bold black arched sans, it says, “rub my puggihorn,” then two all caps rainbow words, “IT’S MAGICAL.”
“Want to break them in?” she asks, that teasing smile only broadening.
“Yes.” I sigh in resignation, handing her the mug back. “I’ll go put your suitcases in the room.”
“Thank you.”
I shake my head with a smile the entire way to and back from the room. I totally brought that on myself, but the woman never skips a chance to taunt me, and it never gets tiring.
Peeking at Lauren from behind the wall, I chuckle quietly as I hear her explain to our unborn baby how daddy drinks gross bitter coffee and how lucky it is to have a mommy who drinks yummy, sweet coffee.
So lucky, I think, sadness invading the joy I was feeling up until now when the thought of how lucky my other baby would have been with a mother like Naomi.
And I’m starting to think that maybe I’m irredeemable.
* * *
Lauren
Never has a door been so scary.