Tell me about it.
Not literally, because if I hear any more about Canyon and Fiona, I’m going to lose my mind.
“They don’t even look right together. He’s too short for her.”
Short? “Canyon is taller than her.”
“Barely. How is she going to wear heels next to him and not look lopsided? They’re all wrong for each other. And the babies they’d have together will have wonky features.” Hope shakes her head. “Doesn’t she care that she won’t have pretty babies?”
I’d laugh at Hope’s wild ideas if thinking about Fiona’s babies didn’t kill me.
The dreams I had of our children go up in a ball of flames, searing my heart. “You can’t know that they’ll have ugly babies.”
“Yes, I can.” She folds her arms across her chest and pouts.
My almost adult daughter is cute when she acts five.
“Bisnonna would agree with me.”
Nonna probably would. I open the front door and am assailed by the scent of food, which turns my stomach.
“We have to tell Nonna and Nonno.”
Do we really? Yet I find myself following her into the kitchen.
“Perfect timing. Dinner’s almost done.” Mom lifts the cupcake she’s icing.
It’s like a gut punch I didn’t need. “I’m not hungry. If someone needs me, I’ll be in the gym.” Punching the bag while pretending it’s Canyon’s face.
Too Many Congratulations!
Fiona
The kids just wouldn’t stop today. But the adults were even worse. I need ten hours of silence. “Dash, I’m going to need you to be a good little boy and play on the floor after you eat your supper. Do you think you can do that?”
He grins up at me, waving his toy around.
“I’m going to take that as a yes.” After slipping off my shoes, I grab a bottle and take him out of the stroller.
We settle down on the couch, and he cuddles into my arms with his bottle. “Did you have a good day in the daycare center?”
His little hand slaps the bottle.
“Max was worried about you. He thought you might have been unhappy going to the daycare. Were you?” How would I even know if you weren’t happy? They fed you. They changed your diapers. They did tummy time. They gave you toys.
It all sounds so sterile. So cold.
The people who take care of the kids in the daycare love their jobs. They’re wonderful with the kids. “Were you happy there? Or do you want to come to work with me tomorrow?”
Dash slaps his bottle and gurgles.
Sometimes I can see why they think he can do all those things.
Like understanding coding? A small smile spreads across my face. “Max really intended to teach you to code.” He saw a future with Dash.
Which is foolish.
I take away the empty bottle and put him on top of the burp cloth on my shoulder.
