Baby Makes Three

“What about my mommy?” Emmy asked now, blinking up at me. She didn’t look afraid or forlorn, just curious.

“Well,” I took a deep breath, “She loves you very, very much, Emmy, but… sometimes love isn’t enough. Your mommy knows that you need more than love, and she knows that she can’t give you all of the things you need right now.”

“I know that, Uncle Caleb,” Emmy said bluntly. “I love my mommy too, but she’s a hot mess.”

I had to fight the urge to laugh at my niece’s sass.

“So,” I said. “How would you feel about living with me permanently?”

Emmy twisted her face into a thoughtful smirk, then the expression melted into a smile.

“I’d like that. A lot.”

“Good,” I smiled back, relieved. “I want this to feel like your home, Emmy. And I want us to be a family.”

“But...” Emmy said thoughtfully, her smile fading. “A family is supposed to have a mommy and a daddy.”

“Not all families are the same. Families are people who love and care about each other.”

“I want Daisy to be part of our family.”

“You and me both, kid,” I sighed before I could stop myself.

“So why don’t you just ask her?” Emmy asked as if it’s that simple.

“I wish it worked like that,” I said, “But it’s complicated.”

“You say that about everything,” Emmy rolled her eyes. “Maybe you should just grow a pair and apologize already.”

“Emmy!” I gasped. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”

She just rolled her eyes at me again.

“Please,” she said. “I’m a kid, not a dummy.”

I felt my heart swell with affection for my ridiculously sassy niece, and I grabbed her in a bear hug.

“You are wise beyond your years, you know that?” I ruffled her hair.

“Enough small talk,” she scoffed. “Let’s figure out how we’re going to get Daisy back!”

19

DAISY

“Come on,” Raven begged, making puppy dog eyes at me from the doorway of my bedroom. “Please come out, you need this!”

“The only thing I need right now is to grade all of these assignments,” I said, ruffling the stack of booklets at the edge of my bed. “And maybe a bottle of wine,” I added with a wink as I reached for the glass of pinot on my nightstand.

I was perc

hed on my bed beside the mountain of homework that I needed to grade by tomorrow morning. They were turned in Friday, and I had already put them off all weekend, waiting until the last minute to grade them before Monday. I had got my red pen and my wine, now all I needed was some peace and quiet.

Unfortunately, ‘peace and quiet’ wasn’t on Raven’s itinerary for the night. Ever since the debacle with Caleb, she had been attempting to drag me to the bar for a ‘girl’s night out.’ It was easy to brush her off during the week, “it’s a school night!” I would protest, but she became more persistent when the weekend hit. Now, Sunday, her urgency was at an all-time high.

“Maybe next weekend,” I offered, even though I know I have no intention of leaving the comfort of my bed or my sweatpants then, either. I was not like Raven. I was not the type to process my grief on the dancefloor, or between shots of Fireball. I preferred sobbing into my pillow in between binge-watching episodes of Gilmore Girls.

“Fine,” Raven sighed in defeat. “But next weekend I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer!”