Honey put both hands on her stomach—one at the very top where the bump protruded, the other at the bottom where she could usually feel the most activity. And she stared into Andrew’s eyes, trying to find a way to tell him how much he meant to her. “What did I do to deserve a man like you?”
He leaned down and gently pressed his lips against hers.
Honey had just felt the tip of Andrew’s tongue when someone came into their room and said, “Excuse me.”
The couple quickly backed their faces away and looked in the direction of the voice.
The nurse in the doorway said, “We know you’ve been waiting a long time, so someone from the delivery room sent me here to tell you that your baby has been born. They’re finalizing the paperwork right now, and your attorney should be in here very soon to bring you your baby.”
“Oh my God,” Honey gasped.
Andrew clutched his wife so tightly. “Do you know what she had?” he asked the nurse.
The nurse paused. “I think she said a boy.”
Honey shrieked once they were alone again, covering her face behind her hands. “Andrew,” she sobbed. “They’re bringing us our baby. Our baby. Our son.”
“Son …” he breathed, still holding his wife.
She dropped her hands from her face to look in her husband’s eyes. “I can’t believe it’s happening.”
“I can.”
Gradually, she threw her arms around his neck, hugging her body against his, burying her face in the warmth of his neck. She stayed there, in an embrace that was so safe, until she heard Stephanie say, “Congratulations, Honey and Andrew.”
Honey glanced over her shoulder, seeing their attorney walk into their room, holding a bundle in her arms.
She continued turning her body, moving until she and Andrew were next to each other, both of them heading toward Stephanie at the same time.
“Baby …” Andrew said, grasping his wife’s hand.
Tears streamed down Honey’s face with each step they took. The emotions in her body were almost too much to bear, the sensation of Andrew clutching her fingers only adding to the intensity.
When they were feet away, Stephanie looked at them and said, “I’m so proud to introduce you to your daughter.”
“Daughter?” Honey asked, looking toward the blanket, which was hiding most of the baby’s face.
“A nurse came by and said she had a boy,” Andrew replied.
Honey continued moving forward, her arms extended in front of her.
When Stephanie was close enough, she set the baby on top of them and responded, “I witnessed the signing of the birth certificate. It’s a girl, I assure you.”
Honey couldn’t speak as she felt the weight of their baby on her arms. As she took in her child’s sweet little face, as she inhaled her warm, powdery smell. As she pressed her lips against her daughter’s skin that felt as delicate as butterfly wings.
“Honey …” Andrew cried, his face on the other side of their little girl, doing the same thing as his wife. “I can’t believe she’s ours.”
Honey felt a tear drip onto their child, one that had come from her own eyes. “I can.” She continued to breathe in their baby, her lips not moving from her tiny cheek, and suddenly, it came to her, like she had wished for it all along. “Andrew, I know what her name has to be.”
SIXTY-FOUR
BILLIE
I PULLED my finger off the lid of the crate and lifted the top, setting it behind me. Then, I turned my attention to all the contents inside.
My father kept everything. He was meticulously organized, all items labeled and dated like the inside of a restaurant’s walk-in cooler. But in here, there were newspaper articles and medical reports. My name was listed on some.
So was my brother’s.
And my mother’s.
Layer after layer of records and clippings and details.
When I got to the last article, that was where the pictures started. There had to be over fifty. Every angle was captured.
Close-up shots of stitches.
Bruising.
Open lacerations.
That wasn’t the hardest part.
What hurt the most was seeing all the blood.
SIXTY-FIVE
HONEY
WINTER 1989