Chapter 15 Emma
FIFTEEN
EMMA
MARCH
Candles lit Liam’s face, the ghosts of every version of himself he’d been in his now eighteen years illuminated.
The baby who wanted nothing more than to be attached to me.
A set of squishy cheeks bouncing in the stroller.
The little boy who told me he loved me more than the stars, who still wanted to hold my hand in parking lots even when I thought he might be getting too old for it.
The slightly older boy who told me to go away and stay out of his business, but silently came to sit next to me on the couch later and watch our favorite show.
The boy who was considering one more year of junior hockey when it would have the added benefit of being under my roof just one more year.
Now, that boy could legally smoke cigarettes and buy lottery tickets.
My beautiful boy.
A tear slipped down my cheek, and his dad, Jeff, wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed.
His wife, Michelle, pouted her lip at me when she saw me crying.
I always cried on Liam’s birthdays, amazed at another year of keeping him alive, of watching him grow, of being proud of the man he was quickly becoming.
Since it was a school night on his actual birthday, we’d decided to have just a little dinner and cake hangout with Liam’s closest friends and Jeff’s family.
His friends and half-siblings carried the final notes of “Happy Birthday,” because I was too choked up to join in. But we all cheered after Liam blew out the candles, and laughed when he said, “Cake time!”
I stepped to turn the kitchen lights back on and wiggled between his friends to cut the cake, Liam’s favorite that I lovingly made for him. But before I could start cutting, Liam put his hand on my shoulder.
I smiled up into my boy’s eyes—his dad’s green eyes—and kissed his cheek before hugging him tight. “Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much.”
Liam squeezed me back. “Love you, Mom. Thanks for this.”
Like he always had since his big growth spurt, he patted the top of my head and I reached up to muss his hair. “You punk.”
His little half sister reached between us to swipe a finger through the cake’s chocolate icing and I was reminded of my more urgent task. “Did you want cake, missy?”
“Eloise,” Jeff chided, swooping in to pick her up. “That’s your brother’s cake.”
“Yeah, that means I get to eat the whole thing,” Liam said, tickling Eloise’s belly where their dad held her up.
My house was hot, crowded, and loud, full of hockey boys and the people who loved Liam most. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Jeff, Michelle, and their kids took off at their girls’ bedtime, and I was left with a bunch of hockey chuckleheads.
Around nine o’clock, I’d grown tired of the bustle and my back was starting to crab at me, still not recovered from the bus accident. I was turning into the party mom, cleaning up to try to give our guests the hint that it was time to go. When the boys were undeterred, I made it more obvious.
“Alright, it’s a school night, and you all have morning practice. Time to skedaddle.”
Liam started seeing his friends to the door, and I went upstairs to get ready for bed. I brushed my teeth, but before I washed my face, I eyed my swimsuit hanging on a hook in the bathroom.
A soak in the hot tub sounded enticing after an overstimulating night of celebration. Plus, it would help my back.
I ordered the bikini after Royce sent the hot tub, and I got daring with my style choice.
More cheek and more cleavage than I’d ever wear to the beach or out somewhere with family.
Instead of full coverage at my hips, it had little ties.
The bra cups framed the sides of my boobs, which lifted me up just so without any risk of a nip slip.
I’d been gifted a hot tub by a not-unattractive professional athlete. A not-unattractive professional athlete who loved to irritate me and maybe kind of almost kissed me a couple of times. Forgive me for wanting to feel a little desirable while using the hot tub he gave me.
And it’s not like it would be anyone other than just me and Li. His friends were gone, and he wasn’t going to be looking at his mom like that.
Surely I’d drilled enough body neutrality into him over the years that it wouldn’t matter.
I pulled the dark blue bikini off the hook and slipped out of my clothes. Once dressed, I looked myself over in the bathroom mirror. Liam’s friends always joked about me being hot, but I figured it was a mixture of me being younger than their moms and a ploy to get under Liam’s skin.
But here, I had to agree with Liam’s friends. I looked pretty damn good.