Chapter 20 Baby Boy #2
The three of us watch the game in a horrible silence, the Rangers struggling in the middle innings.
It’s painful on multiple levels. The tattooed woman comes in at the top of the ninth, once we’ve finally managed a one run lead.
She stands beside my chair. “I’m Joey. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself before. You caught me off guard.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say and shake her offered hand.
She looks as tense as I feel. “Dinner’s ready.”
Tristan’s smile withers and dies at the sight of West coming into the dining room.
West freezes halfway to the table and looks from Tristan to me, his face a glare of resentment.
He forces himself back into motion, pushing past me and taking the seat opposite his mother.
I sit down across from Tristan, watching as he grows paler by the second.
Slowly, but surely, Kate, Eliza, and Joey trickle in and join us at the table.
“I'll say grace.” Helen reaches out her hands. Joey is on my side of the table, so I hold her hand and Helen’s. Tristan is between Helen and Kate.
Helen bows her head, and so do the rest of us.
“Dear Lord, thank you for this meal you’ve allowed us to share together.
Thank you for my son, West and for his best friend, Archer.
We’re so grateful to you for their partners, Tristan and Joey for joining us as we all journey forward together.
And for the true comfort of friends, family, and good food.
Thank you for the love you’ve brought to this table, and for these two clever young women who bring us so much light. In Jesus's name we pray. Amen.”
I glance over at West. He and I make brief eye contact, then we both look away.
“Tristan, you have really pretty eyes,” Kate says.
“Thank you. So do you.”
“They’re just eyes, Kate,” Eliza snaps.
Every other eye at the table turns to look at the girl who’s just spoken up. Her face flushes, and she looks back down at her plate.
Tristan says, “It’s true. I had nothing to do with my eyes, and we all have a set, but I really like compliments.”
“I like your hair, too,” Kate adds, in a smaller voice.
Eliza huffs, and West and I share another look. He has a very small grin on his face.
We pass the food around, loading up our plates with chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and gravy. Helen speaks as I take my first bite.
“Archer, honey, tell me what you've been up to.”
I gulp down the huge piece of chicken in my mouth. It tastes so good, it almost makes this entire mess worth it. “Not much. I took the summer off, so I’ve just been hanging out with Tristan when I can.”
West coughs, and we all turn to look at him. He holds up a hand in apology. “Excuse me,” he says. I let my eyes hang over him for a moment before I turn back to Helen.
“Tristan told me he's pre-law. I had no idea,” she says.
“He’s full of surprises.”
Tristan grins.
“What do you do, Archer?”
I look over at Eliza who’s asking. “I’m a college professor.”
She perks up, eyebrows lifting above her glasses with interest. “What do you teach?”
“Art History.”
“No kidding,” she says, like I just told her I’m an astronaut.
“He’s also an artist himself,” Helen adds.
Eliza almost comes out of her chair. “Really? Are you a painter or a sculptor?’
“He paints,” West says.
Joey turns to me. “I’m an artist, too.”
I look at her and the tense lines around her mouth. She’s relaxing into this about as well as I am. “Yeah?”
“You’re a tattoo artist,” Eliza says with some disdain.
West speaks up. “Do you think the first time your mom ever drew anything she did it with a tattoo needle?” He’s not being a dick. The kindness and patience wrapping around his words is like nothing I’ve ever heard come out of him. “Who do you think painted the mural in your room?”
Eliza rolls her eyes. “I just meant… Never mind.”
“I could never be a tattoo artist. It must take an unbelievable amount of confidence,” I say.
Joey gives me a rueful glance. “It pays the bills. So maybe a little more desperation than confidence.”
Tristan says, “I have one tattoo and it’s tiny, but the guy who tattooed me was an artist as well. I didn’t realize artistic experience wasn’t a requirement.”
“I know, right?” Joey says. “Shocked the hell out of me, too. But yeah. Just a steady hand and big balls.”
“Wait,” Eliza says. “So you don’t have to know how to draw to tattoo somebody? Like permanently?”
Joey shakes her head. “These days you just need a working knowledge of Canva.”
Eliza seems to file this knowledge away before looking at me and saying. “I’d want a real artist.”
“Like Momma,” Kate says.
“Or Archer,” Eliza replies.
Joey laughs. Tristan sends me a small smile that seems to say, “Told you.”
West might as well still be in prison for all I know about him and what’s going on in his life. He’s moved on, and so have I. Tristan distracted me from it, but right now, his absence from my life hurts like a missing limb.
“How did you two meet?” Joey asks Tristan.
Tristan smiles. “Well, I was seven—”
I almost choke on my mashed potatoes. West is in a similar predicament as he coughs again, reaching for his water.
“I’m seven!” Kate says.
“You met when you were seven?” Eliza asks, and she sounds really pissed.
“I was seven,” Tristan specifies. “He was…a little older. His brother’s been my best friend since Kindergarten.”
“You’ve been dating since you were seven?” Kate asks.
“We didn’t ask how long they’d been dating, sweetie. We asked how they met,” Joey reminds her.
“You met him when he was seven?” West asks. They’re the first words he’s spoken directly to me.
“Apparently.”
Joey says, “I had no idea you’d known each other so long.”
“Neither did I,” West adds quietly.
“Well, like I said—we didn’t really know each other. It’s just when we met. Sort of. I guess technically we didn’t actually meet meet until about four years ago.” Tristan says, not really looking at West.
Joey turns to me, and I look into her vivid blue eyes. She says, “And now we’re all together. That’s what counts, right?”
I look over at West, and without saying a word, I forgive him. He can thank his girlfriend for that.
Once dessert is finished, and there’s some talk of catching fireflies, Helen reaches out to lay her hand on mine. “Hey,” she says.
I raise my eyebrows at her.
“I’d like a minute alone with you, if you don’t mind.”
I glance at Tristan. He smiles, not seeming to care. I’m not sure I don’t, though. The summoning has an ominous undertone. “I’ve never managed to catch a firefly before,” he says.
“Yay!” Kate shouts, and there’s a mass exodus from the dining room.
Gathering some dishes, I follow Helen into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind me. She sits down at the breakfast table, waiting.
After I put the dishes in the sink, I join her, but I hesitate before sitting. “I’m not interested in your stamp of approval, Nell.”
“You get it anyway. I adore him. He’s a wonderful young man. Emphasis on the young, by the way.”
“Yeah. I’m aware,” I say.
She looks up at me, something hazy in her eyes—wistful. Like she’s about to walk me down an aisle. “I’ve actually never seen you like this.”
She must mean happy. “He’s extremely important to me.”
Helen gives me a look like I need to come to church more often, and in a stern voice says, “I can see how much you love him.”
I wince at the word. “He’s…yeah,” I say, agreeing as well as I can.
“Oh, Jesus, Archer. Okay, listen. I’ve been needing to tell you something, and I’ll try to make it quick. I wasn’t sure if there would ever be a time when you needed to know this, but then I saw you with Tristan tonight, all of you sitting there, I—”
It’s the first time I’ve seen her struggle for words since I was seventeen and she bought a new comforter for the guest room. It has me as nervous now as I was back then. Her forefinger taps her temple. “I’ve never even told West some of this, but he doesn’t need to hear it the way I think you do.”
Jesus. “Why do you think I need to hear it?”
She nods. “That’s a fair question. A good one. I guess since you’ve been home, I’ve been paying attention to the choices you’ve made, and I’ve wondered if maybe some pain could have been avoided if you’d known a little more about where you came from.”
“Is this about my mom, because—”
She cuts me off. “Yes and no.”
I’m so confused. I glance at the door, and then the window that looks onto the backyard where Kate is running in circles with a jar in one hand and a lid in the other.
Fireflies flicker randomly in the dusky light.
Joey’s laugh rings out, loudly enough that it feels like we’re not alone.
“Do you wanna maybe wait to have this conversation another time?”
Helen grips my hand briefly, giving it a tight squeeze. “This won’t take long, baby. Please, sit. Let me get this off my chest.”
She looks worried, and maybe that should worry me, too, but I feel more protective than anything else. I sit down to face her and nod, giving her the permission she seems to need to go on.
She takes her hand back as she seems to gather up all her courage to speak.
“I had three miscarriages before I had West. West was um…IVF. I used a sperm donor. My ex left after the third one we lost, and I wasn’t ready to give up.
On my ex, yes, but a baby, no. Infertility and loss is one of those things that makes you question everything.
Whether you’ve offended God in some way.
What your life would mean without this one thing your heart is permanently set on.
It was everything to me to have a baby. And I got lucky. I got my miracle.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know you went through all that.”