Page 62 of Downforce

Around and around, out of nowhere, my mind has taken over, and I can’t help but to think that I could accidentally kill my nephew by handing him a piece of bread.

“You know,” I start to say, the bread still between my fingertips, “a few years ago I read an article about a toddler who got sick from a hot dog that wasn’t fully cooked at a barbecue. He was in the hospital for almost two months.”

Alyssia’s eyebrows narrow as she pins me with a curious gaze from across the table. Slowly, she lowers the menu and leans in. “That was an intrusive thought, wasn’t it?”

I close my eyes and nod.

“You won’t hurt him,” she assures me.

I have to fight the thoughts that tell me she’s wrong. The words circling in my mind that tell me over and over that because I failed to wash my hands thoroughly enough Lucky’s going to get sick because I’ve touched his bread.

“Give him the bread,” Alyssia says in a calm, reassuring voice.

Then the guilt and self-loathing start. She shouldn’t have to reassure me.

“It’s fine, Annalise.”

Clearing my throat, I sit up straight. But it’s not until Lucky shrieks and reaches for the bread that I finally release it from between my fingers.

It reaches his mouth in less than a second as he starts gumming the bread to shreds.

“You have no idea how happy I was once he started being able to eat other foods besides breastmilk.”

Alyssia smiles before going on to talk about how exhausting it was being at his constant beck and call to feed.

I’m grateful that she doesn’t dwell on my thoughts. At times like this, I’m grateful for a sister-in-law who’s studied psychology.

“We’ve established that he won’t be going off to college tomorrow, but I can’t believe his first birthday will be coming up in a couple of months.”

I nod and take a sip of the sparkling water I ordered. Lucky’s birthday is at the end of August.

“It’s almost May, and logically that feels like enough time, but I can’t believe how fast the past few months have flown by. And with the season in full swing, everything feels like a blur.”

“I can plan the party for you,” I tell her without thinking.

Her brows spike. “Seriously?”

I nod. “Are you kidding? I accidentally found myself on Pinterest two days ago looking up toddler birthday party themes.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Honestly. Trav mentioned it the other day while on our call with Tristan, and I couldn’t help but look up a few things.” Every few weeks, Tristan, Travis, and I have what we call our “triplet call.”

Even with our busy schedules and time difference, there’s something grounding about being on the phone with the two people who’ve been with me since day one. Literally.

Once in a while our youngest sister, Chloe, will join in on the call.

“I’ll send you over some looks I found to give you some ideas. We’ll have to decide where we’ll have the party. We can do it here in Monaco or back in the States since it’s probably best to have the party during Travis’ summer break.”

Alyssia nods. “That’s what I was thinking as well. You’re on top of things already. Travis is right when he says his life wouldn’t work without you.”

I roll my eyes. “He’d be fine.”

“No, honestly. I don’t think so. I mean, maybe, but you should know how grateful he is to have you. We both are.” She squeezes my arm. “I mean, I know you’re his sister, his third,” she says, using the corny nickname Tristan, Travis, and I have for one another. “But …”

“What?” My shoulders stiffen at the hesitancy in her tone.

I watch as Alyssia breaks off another piece of bread and hands it to Lucky. He happily accepts it, making a mess of his hands full of drool saturated crumbs.