“Feel free to look around and see if anything catches your eye,” she says with a smarmy smile.
I step out and call Marissa. “Hey Riss, I’m at a toy store, and I don’t know what to get DJ for his birthday.”
“I got him a push walker that’s filled with building blocks,” she says, and I hear the smile in her voice. “I saw a great outdoor playset with a swing and a slide. That would be a fun thing to have at his dad’s house, don’t you think?”
“Yes! That’s an awesome idea!” I respond excitedly, and she laughs.
My face hurts from how widely I’m smiling. He’s gonna be blown away by the gift.
“Thanks, Riss, I mean it. I’ll call you tomorrow to congratulate the birthday boy, okay?”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
On Thursday, Bell and Angie are hammering out the party details with Sheila. We managed to book her services for next week only after promising her a shit-ton of money to screw over some other people, but it’s worth it for my son’s first birthday party.
I leave them to it and go upstairs to call Marissa.
There’s a lot of noise in the background. Looks like DJ’s party is well underway.
“Hey Riss, is DJ with you?”
“Sorry, no, but he’ll be up from his nap soon, and we’ll call you then, okay?”
I’m quiet, and I don’t even know why.
“Dylan? Hello?” It sounds like Marissa has found a quieter place.
I clear my throat. “Yes, I’m here. Sure, call me when he wakes up.”
“Okay,” she says, but before she can hang up, I ask, “Do you remember the day he was born? It feels like it was only yesterday.”
Marissa laughs like I’m crazy. “Of course, I remember. It was the most unbelievable day of my life.”
I can see it in my mind very clearly, the moment when the doctor took Junior from between Marissa’s legs and laid him on her chest. I couldn’t stop staring at the two of them.
For some reason, I thought he’d be cold to the touch, but when I took him in my arms, he was warm and familiar. I couldn’t fully breathe; it felt like someone was sitting on my chest.
My son.
My son was here.
In that moment, there was no one in the world more important to me than him and Marissa.
How a year can change your life.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Happy anniversary of giving birth, I guess.”
Marissa doesn’t respond at first.
“Happy anniversary of becoming a dad,” she says after a few moments, and her voice sounds hoarse.
My throat is tight, and my nose is stinging. What is this feeling?
I hear someone calling for her in the background, and she yells out, "I'm coming, honey," before addressing me again, "Sorry, Hawk needs me."
Yeah.
