Chapter 10
Tommy was seven years old when we decided to have another baby.
A little girl, we hoped.
To complete our family.
It took a few months, but on a cold January morning, Olivia handed me a positive pregnancy test, her face lit up like the Fourth of July.
“We’re having another baby,” she said, laughing as I picked her up and spun her around the kitchen.
Tommy, who’d been eating cereal at the table, cheered so loud milk sloshed out of his bowl.
“I’m gonna be a big brother!” he yelled.
“I’m gonna teach him to play baseball!
And ride a bike!
And fight bad guys!”
We laughed, telling him it might be a girl, but he just waved us off.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said.
“I’ll teach her too.”
The pregnancy was easy.
No fear.
No stress.
Just joy.
We went to every appointment together, held hands every time we saw the baby on the ultrasound, heard her strong, steady heartbeat.
Tommy talked to Olivia’s stomach every night, telling his little sister stories about his day at school, about Tiger the cat, about the magic rocks he kept in his pocket.
She was born on a warm August night, after a quick, easy labor.
Lila Rose Carter.
7 pounds, 1 ounce, a head full of dark curly hair, her mother’s eyes.
Tommy was the first one to hold her, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, his face serious, like he was holding the most precious thing in the world.
“Hi, Lila,” he whispered.
“I’m your big brother.
I’m always gonna take care of you.
I promise.”
I looked at Olivia, tears running down both our faces, and squeezed her hand.
Our family was complete.
We brought Lila home a week later.
The house was full of flowers, full of laughter, full of love.
Ryan came over with his girls, bringing a tiny pink teddy bear for Lila and a new baseball glove for Tommy, to celebrate being a big brother.
Lila came over, bringing enough food to feed a small army, cooing over the baby, teasing Tommy about how he was going to have to share his toys now.
That night, after all the guests had left, after Tommy was asleep in his room, after Lila was fed and swaddled and asleep in her bassinet beside our bed, Olivia and I sat on the porch swing, just like we’d done a hundred times before.
The oak tree was tall now, its branches stretching over the yard, leaves rustling in the summer breeze.
Somewhere, a firefly blinked.
Crickets chirped.
The house was quiet, peaceful, safe.
I wrapped my arm around Olivia, pulling her close.
“Remember that day I ripped the blanket off you?” I said, soft.
“I thought my whole world was ending.
Thought I’d lost you.
Thought I’d lost everything.”
Olivia nodded, leaning her head on my chest, listening to my heart beat.
“I remember,” she said.
“I thought I’d never be safe again.
Never be happy again.
I thought that monster would win.”
“But she didn’t,” I said.
“We won.
We have Tommy.
We have Lila.
We have each other.
We have this house, this life, all the people who love us.
Justice was served.
Mom’s gone.
She can’t hurt anyone ever again.
And we’re safe.
Completely, totally safe.”
Olivia looked up at me, her eyes shining in the porch light, no trace of fear left in them, only love.
Only happiness.
Only home.
“I love you,” she said.
“More than anything in the world.”
“I love you too,” I said.
Kissing her.
Soft.
Slow.
Under the stars, under the oak tree, in the home we’d built together.
Out of all the pain.
All the fear.
All the lies.
We’d built something real.
Something strong.
Something that would last forever.
Inside the house, Tommy made a small sleepy noise over the monitor.
Lila gurgled, soft and content, in her bassinet.
Everything was perfect.
Everything was ours.
May you like
And for the first time in my life, I knew, without a single doubt, that we were going to be okay.
That we were finally, completely home.
