Tessa raised her eyebrows. Evelyn smiled.
Grant pointed his fork at me as if he were announcing a vacation he had booked.
“Monday morning,” he said. “No more excuses.”
“What happens Monday morning?”
He took another bite of potatoes. “It’s a surprise.”
The conversation moved on, but something inside me did not.
Twenty minutes later, Eli needed a bottle. Grant was telling his uncle about a corporate wellness proposal at work, so I fed Eli while I ate with my free hand. When I asked Grant to bring me the burp cloth from the counter, he said, “In a minute,” without looking away from his uncle.
His mother brought it instead.
“You know,” Evelyn murmured, “moving around more would probably help your energy.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity of telling a woman caring for three newborns that she did not move enough.
After dessert, Grant posed beside the bassinets while everyone took pictures. When I stepped into one photo, he said, “Let’s get one of just me and the babies first.”
Piper heard him.
I saw it in her face.
She came to stand beside me and slipped her hand into mine.
By nine-thirty, the relatives were gone. Grant stacked plates beside the sink and announced that he had an early meeting.
“You’re leaving this?” I asked.
“I loaded the dishwasher last time.”
“Six days ago.”
He kissed the air beside my cheek. “Try to sleep when the babies sleep.”
Then he went upstairs.
I was wiping mashed potato from beneath Piper’s chair when my phone buzzed. Grant had left the Mercer family group chat open on the shared tablet, and its notifications mirrored to my screen.
There was a photograph of me bending over Nora’s bassinet.
The angle emphasized the curve of my stomach beneath the blue dress. My face was turned away. I had not known anyone was taking it.
Grant had sent it at 6:14, while I was serving his family dinner.
His caption read:
Day Zero. Monday we begin.
Tessa had responded with a flexed-arm emoji.
Grant’s brother had written, You’re brave, man.
