Page 203 of Sebastian's Baby

“Maybe try lying sideways?”

“Can you lean back a bit more?”

“Is it too uncomfortable?”

“Sorry, Seb. I really wanted it to work.”

“It was worth a try.”

“We’re idiots. I’ll just lie down there.

“The simplest answer.”

“Okay, princess, this might be cold. I’m just going to have a listen and make sure everything’s going okay in there.”

“Sure, Dr. Fox.”

“Oh, god. It really is cold.”

“Oh. That’s the placenta.”

“Yup, it is. Come on, baby, come to dada.”

“It’s beautiful, Seb. I love our baby.”

“Me too, princess. I’ve never loved anything as much as I love our baby.”

“That happens sometimes. The baby moves. I was watching videos on YouTube about how to do this. I should have gotten the recording I need, though.”

“Posso baciarti?”

“Sì.”

“Okay. Let’s go see if we got this to work.

I wipe tears from my eyes as I listen to us. This is so fucking painful because we’re so innocent. We have no idea what’s coming for us as we listen to Mirabella’s heartbeat. No idea that a tumor is forming that is going to make the heartbeat that sounds so damn perfect on this recording suddenly sound wrong.

Everything that happened from the night I met Lita has led to this, though. I stand from my seat and head to get my guitar. I take it and some staff paper to the living room with a pencil. I start to play a melody as I consider words for this song. I want to sing about Lita from the night I met her.

I think about how I felt the moment I saw her getting out of that elevator. It takes me almost an hour to just get the first half of the first verse right. This song needs to be perfect. I want to use it to tell Lita what she means to me. How she’s changed my world, and me, so completely.

I think about the recording I have, and I know that I want to use more than the heartbeat in the song. Some of the things we said to each other will be important for the song. It’s going to beverydifferent musically from anything we’ve done before, but that’s okay. It might never even go on an album, but there’s only one person who I need to hear it anyway.

I put my guitar away, shutting the staff paper with the scribbles I’ve made on it for the song in the case with the instrument and look at the time. It’s only ten, and it’ll probably be hours before Lita comes home from her shopping trip with Heather and Ariana, so I give Gabriel a call.

“Hey, bro. What’s up?” he asks when he answers the call.

“I thought you might be free to hang out since your wife is busy with Lita and Heather today.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I’m not up to anything. What are you thinking?”

“Want to come to my place and have your ass kicked at pool?” I grin as I ask the question.

“Sure, why not.”

He arrives about half an hour later, and I let him in with a smile. “Good to see you’re not puking your guts up today.”

“Very funny,” he says with a laugh.

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