This was my child.
My son.
His eyes were heavy, his tiny eyelashes fluttering. And his fingers? Fuck. They were the most precious thing I’d ever seen. He was perfect.
Before I knew it, I was crying.
And I was not a crier. Lawrence men were stoic. We shoved our feelings down and held them there until we forgot they even existed.
But holding this tiny human brought a whole wave of them up. The love I already felt for this person. The responsibility that settled itself on my shoulders. And the most visceral was the burning desire to have my parents back to witness this moment.
My siblings had been blowing up my phone, urging me to demand a DNA test. But in this moment, I knew this child was mine. On some deep, primal level, I sensed it.
I stared at him, my eyes full of tears, praying to every possible god that I wouldn’t fuck this up. That I wouldn’t let this little person down.
“What’s his name?” I asked gently.
“I haven’t settled on a name yet. I thought maybe we could choose together? But I really like the name Vincent,” she said. “It was my grandfather’s name.”
I stared at him, I could see it. Vincent. It was classic. It had gravitas. He would wear it well.
“Sounds great.”
She blinked at me, like she was stunned that I’d agreed so easily. But the name was perfect. And this woman had done all the work to bring him into the world; why wouldn’t I defer to her? “I know your dad passed away…” she said softly.
“His name was James,” I replied, back to memorizing every feature of this little miracle.
“Vincent James,” she said. “I like it.”
I looked up again, my eyes blurry, my cheeks wet. “Me too.”
Her lips curled up on one side, her eyes dancing. “Good. But don’t get used to me agreeing with you so easily.”
A laugh escaped me, startling the baby a little.
I’d forgotten how much I liked her. She was funny and a little sassy. Her eyes had a mischievous twinkle that saidI know I’m smarter than you, but I’m too kind to remind you of that fact.
“Understood.”
We sat in silence as Vincent fell asleep in my arms. Like he felt totally safe and satisfied. I studied the slope of his nose and his little rosebud lips.
When I shifted so I could rest my elbow on the armrest of the chair, I found Evie watching us. “Are you okay?” I asked. I should have asked that the moment I walked in. “After the birth and everything.”
“Aside from the fact that I didn’t even know I was pregnant, it was a pretty standard birth, according to the doctors. Ruby and Frankie were with me, coaching me.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” I said. “I got called back to town.”
And it really was an all-hands-on-deck kind of situation. There had been multiple car accidents, and a handful of people attending the festival had fainted, causing a myriad of wounds. I’d worked all night, transporting folks and treating major injuries.
But the part of the day that had stuck with me was the moment the medical examiner zipped Will McManus’s lifeless body into a body bag and loaded it into the coroner’s van. It was so surreal. Things like this did not happen in Maplewood.
“I’m sure you were so confused.”
Blinking, I zeroed in on her. “Yeah, I was in shock, I guess, but that’s no excuse. If I hadn’t been on duty and the day hadn’t gotten so out of hand, I would have been here. I promise.”
I paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to formulate the question that had been plaguing me. Finally, I cleared my throat. “Um. I thought we were careful?”
I didn’t think it, I knew it. I was always careful. My dad had given me the talk about consent and protection at fourteen, and I’d sworn I’d never let him down.
