Bristol wide-eyes the cluster of women at our front door even as a smile overtakes her face. At eight months pregnant, she’s bigger than I’ve ever seen her.
And more beautiful.
This pregnancy is unusual, atypical in most ways, but that legendary glow women supposedly have—Bristol has it in spades. I beat her to the door when the knock came because I knew who was on the other side. Kai came to me weeks ago about a shower for Bristol—not a traditional shower, obviously, with gifts for the baby and all the items we would need if this was happening as it should. Kai wanted to do something for Bristol to express the support from the women in her life, to show that they love her and want to walk with her through the hard part that lies ahead.
I hug each of them as they file in. There’s Jimmi and Kai, Shon and Charm, who flew in from New York, and my mom and Jade.
“Jade?” I don’t try to hide my surprise. “Wow. I mean, it’s good to see you.”
Things have improved between us and thawed some between Jade and Bristol, but she’s not exactly a fixture in our lives. I told her about the diagnosis soon after we found out, but we haven’t talked much about it. I don’t think she knew what to say. Most people don’t.
“I wasn’t gonna miss this girly shit.” She adjusts her Raiders cap and scoffs. “You know they actually doing pedicures and facials up in here?”
“Yeah, well I heard girls like that kind of thing.” I shrug carelessly. “I’m watching the game in the other room if you need to get outta dodge.”
“I’ll be in there by halftime.” Jade’s smile disappears and her eyes sober. “How you holding up?”
“We’re all right.” I look over at Bristol, surrounded by laughing women and nail polish and Cards Against Humanity and overpriced cupcakes. “I hope it’s not too much for her.”
I haven’t said that aloud to hardly anyone, but Jade’s not just anyone. We bonded around the hardest times of our childhood. The day that cop violated her on the playground. The day one of her brothers killed the other in my front yard. We stood witness to each other’s worst moments; we share the intimacy of tragedy. Our relationship has always been a pendulum that swings from reticent to confessional.
“She’ll be cool. You were right—that girl’s ride or die. She’s a fighter.” Jade tips her head back to study my face. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Me?” I touch my chest and shake my head. “I’ll be fine. I mean, it’s gonna hurt to the white meat, but I’ll hold as long as she’s okay. If this breaks Bristol . . .”
My words disintegrate. Our love is a tensile thread, stretched beyond even the bounds I thought possible. It connects us in a way that may be invisible, but is more real to me than anything I can touch or taste. I told her once that if I break her heart, I break mine, and it’s true. Our hearts are wrapped around one another, joined. I honestly believe I can survive anything if Bristol is by my side. It’s the closest thing to faith I have, and I cling to it. I cling to her. She thinks I’m the one holding us up, but my strength is tangled in her. If I lost Bris . . . not physically, but what we have, it has to stay intact. It’s my cornerstone, and from what I’ve read, the hardest thing for a couple to survive is losing a child.
Kai walks up and says a few words to Jade before my cousin drifts off. Not sure how long she’ll be able to stay in here with the estrogen as thick as it is.
“Thanks for letting us do this, Grip.” Sadness shadows Kai’s eyes, but a smile rests obstinately on her lips. “We’re with you guys. I know this is unimaginably hard, but you’re not alone.”
“Thanks for letting me stay,” I say. “For understanding.”
This whole thing is sweet, and I’m glad Kai wanted to do it, but it, like everything in this pregnancy, has a bitter side, and I want to be close if things take a turn and Bristol needs me.
“Well you can stay, but you did agree to be out of sight, so . . .” She waves a slim hand toward the living room and the mammoth flat- screen television waiting for me. “Off you go.”
“I’m going,” I fake grumble. All this nail polish and tarts and shit are actually starting to make me itch.
On my way out, I stop to kiss Bristol’s cheek.
“You knew about this.” She narrows her eyes, but a smile breaks through. “A co-conspirator.”
“You can punish me later.”
“Oh, I plan to.” She tips up to whisper in my ear, “We can have beached whale sex when everyone leaves.”
“My new favorite position,” I joke. “However I can get it in.”
“Ugh.” She scowls and smiles at the same time. “You’re awful.”
“I’m in love.” I cradle her face in my hands.
“So am I.” She puts her hands over mine, her eyes locking on me. “Thank you for this.”
I nod and bend to kiss her belly, no longer just a bump. Now that we’re at the end, she can’t see her toes anymore. I’m gonna miss this belly, and a sudden pain harpoons me at the thought, nearly taking my breath. Once this belly is gone, so is our little girl.
Over the next hour, I try to lose myself in the soccer match, but I keep finding my ears straining to hear what they’re doing in there. I figure I can ask Jade when she joins me, but she never does, and that’s got me curious. I pad down the hall and surreptitiously poke my head around the corner. Jade’s still there. Matter of fact, she’s adding her words to all the other pen markings covering Bristol’s belly. Right across the middle is scrawled the name we chose for the baby.