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I watch as Mama turns her attention from me to where Damien sits quietly in the rocking chair next to the bed. He hasn’t left my side. A nurse came in to perform her checks just after sunrise, and Damien was asleep with Astria on his bare chest.
Something in my heart tightened at that moment. I don’t know how to explain it, but the sight was so beautiful, so reassuring and calming that my chest physically ached with a feeling I’d never felt before.
His wide, rough hands held her against his chest with a gentle, yet secure touch. She looked so tiny but slept so peacefully.
My mama, bless her, she means well. She used to tell me that we get small glimpses into heaven throughout our lives. Tiny peeks. Reminders of the good in the world.
If I never get another moment like that, I’ll know that was one of them.
“And you’re okay with this, Damien? You’re my son too, and Tyler is your brother. Is this what you want?”
My heart stalls as Damien’s green eyes lock on mine. He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. I see the wheels turning. He’s thinking, debating what to say. I hate that I’ve put him in this position. I never wanted him to have to choose between his best friend and this situation we’ve found ourselves in.
“Mama Patterson, you know I love you fiercely.” He sighs, and I hold my breath, unsure of what he might say next. I hate that he’s in a position to choose, but I’m selfish. I want him to choose us.
“You’re right, Tyler is my brother. But this little girl means more to me than anything else in the entire world. I support Gia’s decision. I will always back up my wife. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.” He claps his hands together with a finality that rocks me to my core. His words of support are surprising. They shouldn’t be, this isn’t the first time I’ve heard something similar. He’s reassured me time after time over the past few months during my moments of weakness and doubt. But that’s when we’re alone, not to my mama’s face.
Tears fill my eyes, and I try to blink them away quickly before someone in the room notices. I swear, my hormones are still a jumbled mess.
“You know, Damien, you’re a good man. Despite the fact that I disagree with the decision the two of you have made.” She pauses before continuing. “Fine. You’ve said your piece. I’ll send Jeff down to talk to him, but I want it known that I am not happy about any of this.”
“Other than my grandbaby. I’m plum smitten with those sweet little cheeks. Give me that baby and let me get some sugar. She’ll heal my broken heart. Won’t you, Astria?” I kiss the top of Astria’s head before lifting her gently and placing her in my mama’s waiting arms.
“Don’t be dramatic, Mama.” I roll my eyes. I relax back into the most uncomfortable bed known to man, grateful to rest my aching body, if only for a second.
She ignores me completely; I knew she would. I know that she wants to make us hug it out and say we’re sorry and move on, just like we did when we fought as kids. But this is so much bigger than whose turn it is to sit in the front seat on a long car ride.
I can’t forget the things he said to me that day. I can’t forget the horrible things he said to Damien. I’m not ready to forgive him, and I won’t allow that type of toxic relationship into my life. Our lives are too fragile right now as it is.
I grab my camera from the wooden table next to my hospital bed as I hear my Mama begin speaking softly to Astria.
“Do you hear this nonsense, Astria? These kids think they know everything, I’m telling you. Don’t you worry, baby. Don’t fret your pretty little mind. You just wait and see. One day this family will heal, and it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if it’s you that brings them all back together.” Damien stands and she eases into the rocking chair next to the bassinet we’ve yet to use. “You’ve got your Grandpapa’s nose, you know that? And your mama’s lips. But those eyes, your Daddy marked you good. Your Grandpapa is smiling down on you so big.”
My chest tightens, and I grip my camera harder in my hands. Yes, he is, baby girl.
Click. Click Click. The only sound in the room is the echo of my camera lens. I snap photo after photo of my mama rocking my daughter, her granddaughter. Three generations together. That’s the beautiful thing about art in print. I’ll capture these images for a lifetime, and every time I look back at them, I will remember the love I feel in my heart. This is my peace.
I’ll remember how hard I had to fight my own demons to get here, and every single reason why I will continue to fight against anything or anyone that might tarnish it.
Chapter Six
Gia
Six months later
“Hey, Gia.”
Sweat rolls down the crevice between the two giant milk jugs formerly known as my breasts, as I simultaneously bounce Astria on my hip and attempt to pull laundry out of the dryer. I’ve already restarted this thing on three separate occasions to shake the wrinkles out.
I’m thankful that we have a washer and dryer inside our apartment. I am thankful that we have a washer and dryer inside our apartment.
I repeat the words again. And I am truly thankful that I don’t have to haul our laundry to and from the shared laundry space in the basement of our complex with a baby in tow. I’m just hot. And tired. And overwhelmed.
“Gia?” Damien chuckles as he says my name again, and I realize I haven’t responded to him. I was lost in the sea of thoughts that run through my mind in a constant state of disarray. People always talk about pregnancy brain, but mom brain fog is a whole other level.
Astria coos and Damien scoops her into his arms. My hip continues to bounce on its own accord.
“How was practice?” I ask.
