It scares me.
I know every girl’s body is different—but sometimes I wonder whether Lily may lose our baby, just in comparison to Rose’s size. And that frightens me even more…that I’d fear losing something that I never wanted to begin with.
These feelings are crazy. I get to experience every fucked up emotion without a crutch. No Maker’s Mark. No Macallan or Jameson.
I think I’m okay with that. Even when it hurts.
Lily unfurls her crumpled envelope, and my back straightens, leaning against the lower cupboards, Lil still on my lap.
“Are you going first?” Lily asks her sister, craning her neck over her shoulder.
Rose shakes her head, her collarbones protruding as she holds in a breath. “No, you go.” Connor speaks in French, not caring that Ryke can eavesdrop, and Rose replies in a hushed voice.
“Should I get my camera?” Daisy asks with a bright smile. It almost distracts me from the dark circles under her eyes.
“Use your phone,” Lily says, her hands shaking with nerves. “But don’t post anything on Instagram.”
Daisy mock gasps. “I already did.”
“Ha ha,” I say dryly.
Ryke looks like he could fuck her against the cupboards, an expression I don’t like catching from him. And then Daisy struggles to hop on the high counter with one good hand, the other in a cast.
Without hesitation, Ryke easily lifts her up. She swings her legs and holds out her smart phone. Instead of a photo, she begins recording us. Even narrating, “It’s Saturday, February 7th. Lily Calloway is about to find out the sex of her baby. Will it be a boy or a girl? Predictions?” Her phone whips to Ryke.
“Girl,” he deadpans.
“One smile,” Daisy says.
His lips barely rise.
“Pathetic,” I tell him. “You can’t even smile for my future kid.”
“Yeah, Uncle Ryke,” Daisy jokes.
Ryke gives her a hard look. “Don’t say that again.” And then he actually smiles, not a full-blown one with teeth, but it’s good enough. This video recording actually lessens the tension in my muscles.
Lily even perks up with more excitement, her worries fluttering somewhere else. Thanks, Daisy.
“What’s your prediction, Connor and Rose?” She points the camera-phone at the couple by the coffee pot.
Rose stiffens, “Girl.”
“Boy,” Connor says, setting his mug on the counter.
Rose rotates to face him. “You have to disagree with me?”
“I don’t have to.” He pauses to grin. “Though I like to.”
Rose is suddenly quiet, and his hand slips beneath her hair and he kisses her forehead.
Then Daisy whips her phone lens at us. “Lily and Lo, predictions?”
Lily’s green eyes flicker up to mine, and they tumble with so many fears and hesitations that I wish we were alone. In this solitary moment. So I could hold her. Shut out the rest of the world.
Just us.
No more noise.
“A girl,” Lily breathes. It’s not what she wants. It’s what I want, but it’s going to hurt either way.
“Boy,” I whisper.
Her chest collapses, and she shakes her head at me like it won’t be a boy. It may be. Half of me will be happy for Lily. The other half will be scared shitless again. The parts of me that I love the most are the parts that belong to her.
“Hurry up,” Rose says, her voice abnormally high-pitched. I cringe. She’s nothing short of petrified because she’s going next. And no matter how much Rose aggravates me on a daily basis, I’m not a fan of watching her like this
Connor whispers quickly in her ear, and I notice how she rubs her hands anxiously. He clutches one so she stops making her skin raw.
“You open it,” Lily whispers to me, rerouting my attention. She pushes the envelope in my hands.
My stomach tightens, but somehow, I force my joints to work. I tear the seal and unfold the white paper. My pulse races like I’m about to jump off a building and make a speech in front of a packed stadium. I can barely read the typed letters at first. They blur together, and it takes a few extended seconds to piece them apart.
She studies my expression for a long moment and says, “It’s a boy.”
I am flooded with temperatures below zero, and I pass the paper to her, so she can verify what she already knows is real.
Her eyes travel eagerly over the words and then she delicately folds the paper.
“You can smile, Lil.” Please smile.
A tear rolls down her cheek.