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We never spoke of that day.
Noa
At the soundof Dylan’s whimpering, I sat up and looked at the baby monitor on my nightstand.
Dylan wasn’t usually fussy at night. Our days were filled with laughter, tantrums, sticky little fingers, colors, and sounds. And when it was time for bed, he’d go down easily. But tonight, he cried, and it didn’t take me long to sit up, thankful that Theo had decided to stay in Seattle since he had an early meeting.
I walked to Dylan’s room, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I pushed the door open and my baby boy was standing in his crib, his tears shining from the soft light of his nightlight. When he saw me, his hands went up. And when his fingers opened and closed, grabbing at the air, my heart gave a little sigh. To be wanted so much by one person, to be his whole world, it was a beautiful feeling.
I grabbed him and he laid his head on my shoulder. I sat us on the rocking chair in the corner. “Want me to sing, papa?” I asked. His head remained on my shoulder and I smiled.
In so many ways, I felt like I was failing Dylan. I didn’t get things right the first time. Sometimes I spaced out or fell asleep. And God, the first few times I had to let him scream were a nightmare.
I co-parented with Dexter and I was sure he experienced a lot of these things on his own. But we were supposed to have experienced it together.
That was where I felt I failed Dylan most. Taking away his opportunity to grow up in one home.
I started rocking and ran my fingertips over his back. His skin was warm from working himself up and he hiccupped over his next breath, finally calming down enough to even out his breathing.
It started out as a hum, and then I was singing. They were the words I once sang through a crowd of teenagers to a pair of blue eyes.
By the end of the song, Dylan was asleep, and I was too melancholy to go to bed alone. So, I stood and walked us to my room. When I laid him on the bed beside me, he only shifted a little before falling asleep again.
I stared up at the ceiling.
There were moments when I knew I was a good mother. Moments where my love for Dylan would feel so foreign yet big to me, I wondered if it would make me burst.
And I knew, it was because my mother had never given hers to me.
* * *
The next morning,I woke up to Dylan squirming before poking me in the eye.
I groaned and rolled over, opening one eye to see Theo standing in the doorway. “Morning,” I said, my voice gritty.
“Morning,” he whispered with a smile. He walked in the room and began taking off his clothes from the night before. “He really shouldn’t sleep in bed with you.”
I glanced over at Dylan and when I ran my hands over his hair, he scooted to sit on me. I didn’t pay attention to Theo as he walked in the bathroom to shower. Theo didn’t have kids and he certainly didn’t know how it felt to lose one. I’m sure he knew that if it were between him and Dylan, I’d pick Dylan each and every time. So, his weak arguments always fell on deaf ears.
Besides, it wasn’t like Dylan slept with me every night.
I was about to head out of the room to feed Dylan when Theo called out from the shower. I leaned against the door frame as he poked his head around the shower curtain.
“Don’t forget lunch tomorrow,” he said.
I frowned.
Lunch?
“You know. For your birthday.”
I nodded before turning to tote Dylan downstairs on my hip. Twenty-seven was almost here. Not one to stray from my routine, I immediately thought to myself,I met Dexter almost ten years ago.
Rather than dwell on it the way I had when I was single and unattached, I did what was expected of me. I fed my son and smiled and pretended that Dexter Andrews was the furthest thing from my mind.
It wasn’t until hours later, when I was walking slowly with Dylan’s hand in mine, Theo leading us inside the indoor water park, that I was reminded how pointless it was to pretend. I couldn’t pretend when Dexter was off to the side, helping Phoebe step out of her dress and looking at her in a way that squeezed my heart.
I glanced over and saw Rachel at the nearest table, also watching them with her own eyes. As if she felt mine on her, she looked up. I didn’t know what it was, but in that moment, we were just two women who happened to love the same man.
