Page 43 of First Comes Forever

“Stuck in the past, with all these missing memories.”

I let the heavy feeling of guilt sit on my shoulders, pressing me further into the mattress. I put as much distance as I could between me and Liv. But am I stuck? Why do I still flinch when I say her name? Why do I feel guilty that I never held that baby? What if my little banana was looking for me, and I wasn’t there?

“Come on, Dad. Let’s go get dinner, okay?”

He rises and I blow out the candle with gusto, trying my best to snuff out all the memories.

nine

Tapping my fingers anxiously against the cool granite of the kitchen island with one hand, I redial with the other. My phone is lying flat on the counter, the speaker volume all the way up, but Carson isn’t bothered. Blippi is on the iPad, jumping into a ball pit, so I can expect him to be entertained…for five minutes.

Yeesh, toddlers have minute attention spans. Adam and Alex have been gone for four hours, but I’m already as tired as a construction worker after a twelve-hour shift.

“Hello?”

“Oh, sweet angel,” I breathe out. “Thank you, thank you for answering.”

“Are you okay?” Noa asks, her voice a little squeaky. It’s the voice she uses when she’s bracing for bad news. Of course she thinks something is wrong. I’ve called her four times in a row. “I was at work and I can’t talk inside the gallery. It’s spooky quiet in there. But I’m off now. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing serious. I just have an important mom question.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Okay.” Based on her tone, I can picture the expression on her face, twisted up in confusion, her eyebrows knitting together. “What’s your question?”

“What in the world would constitute a toddler pooping neon green?”

“What?”

“I’m babysitting for a friend and I just changed this two-year-old’s diaper. It looks like he’s juiced up on whatever makes the Hulk turn green. I haven’t told his father yet because he’s busy. I don’t want to worry him. But is this serious? I don’t have a car seat. I’d have to call nine-one-one for an emergency. I am freaking the fuck out, Noa.”

“Is he crying, holding his belly, or acting like he’s in pain?”

“No,” I say, glancing at Carson in the living room again. After we played makeover with about two hundred dollars’ worth of makeup I let the little dude massacre, he settled down with my iPad. Without any real furniture in Adam’s condo, we made a fort out of my blow-up mattress, fuzzy pink throws, and pillows. “He’s happy as a clam.”

“And his tummy isn’t hard or distended or anything?”

“I don’t think so.” I pick up the phone and join Carson on the mattress. He doesn’t notice me plopping down next to him. He’s moved on from Blippi to Ms. Rachel singing Old McDonald on the screen. I press against his stomach with two fingers. He doesn’t turn his attention away from the screen, but he giggles. “It’s soft and squishy,” I say to Noa.

“Then he’s fine, Mani. What has he eaten today?”

I tousle his dark hair and he leans his head back into my palm, enjoying the attention. “Nothing crazy. I ordered him some nuggets and fruit from Chick-Fil-A. Earlier he had two juice boxes, one apple, one grape. We also snacked on some box cereal while we were waiting.”

“Ah, let me guess. Crunchberries?”

“How’d you know?” I plant a little kiss on top of Carson’s head.

“Because you’ve been my best friend for over twenty years, so I know you have the eating habits of a child and your favorite cereal is Cap’N Crunch’s Oops All Berries.”

My stomach sinks.Oh shit.“Do you think the cereal was bad or something?”

“No, no. Mani, he’s fine. That cereal is riddled with artificial dyes. Maybe don’t feed that sugary stuff to him in copious amounts or you’ll pay for it in toddler tantrums later when he has a sugar crash. Breathe. You’re fine. The only concerning part of this situation is you changed a diaper. Is someone blackmailing you to babysit?”

“Hardy har har. No, I volunteered out of the goodness of my heart, thank you very much.”

“Whose child? I thought you didn’t have a ton of friends in L.A. besides Cici? Reason number one thousand and four you should move home, Mani.”

I’m sure as hell not telling her about Adam while she is shacking up with his best friend. Guys gossip as much as girls. Adam already rejected me once. I don’t want him to know I’m swooning over him. He’s keeping me at arm’s length as we play this odd game of “just friends,” which oddly I’m enjoying. It’s been years since a guy has given me butterflies.

I haven’t had a boyfriend since I found out Trevor was cheating on me and I left Denver. Then I started IUI, and eventually I wrote off even casual dating. I didn’t see the point anymore. There was no way I could trust any of the men I was meeting with the journey I was trying to embark upon.

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