Page 76 of Best Friends
“What should we call him?” I ask, unable to look away from our baby’s face.
Malcolm is quiet for a moment, studying our son’s features. “What about James? After your grandfather?”
I consider it, testing the name in my mind. James. “James is so formal,” I say softly. “What do you think of Jamie?”
“Jamie,” Malcolm repeats, smiling. “I like it. Hi, Jamie. I’m your other dad.”
Jamie makes a small sound, not quite a cry, and nuzzles against my chest. The simple gesture makes my heart feel too big for my body.
“I can’t believe he’s here,” I whisper, kissing the top of his downy head. “I can’t believe we made him.”
“He’s the best of both of us,” Malcolm says huskily, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. “You were incredible, C. I don’t think I could have been half as brave.”
I laugh weakly. “I didn’t feel brave. I… I felt desperate to get the baby out of my body.”
The next hour passes in a haze of tests and measurements, hospital staff checking on us, and me trying to figure out how to breastfeed. With the help of a lactating coach, Jamie latches on after a few tries. I yelp, because the feeling of feeding him is both strange and wonderful and painful.
Malcolm barely leaves my side, alternating between staring at Jamie in wonder and fussing over me. When the nurses finallydeclare that we can all rest, he settles into the chair beside my bed, but I can tell he’s not going to sleep.
“Hard to believe he’s finally here,” I say softly, adjusting Jamie in my arms. He’s sleeping now, his breathing soft and even.
“Funny how our son came early when we tend to be late everywhere we go.” Malcolm gives a tired grin.
I grab Malcolm’s hand, squeezing his fingers. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”
Malcolm frowns. “Why?”
“Because this is just all so perfect. You. Our son. I don’t understand why I get to be so happy. Why do I get to have you, Malcolm? Do I even deserve you?” Tears spill over onto my cheeks and Malcolm looks horrified.
He stands up and leans over, kissing my forehead. “Don’t cry, C. God, please, don’t cry. This is a happy moment. No need for tears.”
I sniff, wiping roughly at my damp eyes. “I’m confused about why I’m so damn lucky. Other than you, Malcolm, I haven’t had a lot of luck in my personal life.”
“You don’t need a lot of luck,” he says softly. “You just need the right kind of luck. And we’ve got that in spades, C.” He smiles encouragingly at me.
“Yeah.” I nod. “You’re right. Moving next door to you was the first stroke of luck. The day I met you, everything changed for me, Malc. Everything got so much better.”
“Same. Oh, sure, I had friends. Lots offriends.” He makes quote marks as he speaks. “But what was missing from my life was mybest friend.”
I smile and whisper, “Yeah. Best friends for life, right, Malc?”
His eyes gentle as he reaches out, placing his hand over mine where it rests on Jamie’s back. “Best friends for life, C.”
Epilogue
(One month later)
I’m sitting on the couch feeding Jamie when I sniff the air, wincing. “Oh, no. Not again.” I glance down at my innocent looking son. “I literally just changed you an hour ago, you little rat.”
Jamie just wiggles and continues feeding as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Malcolm,” I call toward the kitchen, where he’s making coffee. “Your son just exploded.”
“My son?” Malcolm appears in the doorway with a grin, dish towel slung over his shoulder. “Funny how you stress that point anytime he dirties his diaper.”
“Why, I don’t know what you mean.” I bat my eyes innocently and he laughs.
I look down at Jamie, who’s staring up at me with serious dark eyes that definitely resemble Malcolm’s. At one month old, he’s finally starting to look less like a wrinkled alien and more like an actual baby. His hair has grown in thick and dark, and yesterday I swear he almost smiled at me.
