Page 65 of Beautiful Small Things

Over the past few months, James has added little touches here and there. Nothing crazy, but enough to add a female touch to my previous bachelor pad. Between that and the baby, it just feels different.

I drop my bag by the door and head for the refrigerator. Before leaving the hospital, I showered and changed into fresh scrubs, wary of bringing any germs home to my girls.

I find a plate of chicken with rice and vegetables wrapped in foil and know it’s for me. James does this stuff for me all of the time. She leaves me food, sends me pictures of Iris, and basically helps make sure everything is running smoothly.

I’ve just sat down in front of the television when I hear the baby start to cry. I’m about to get up and get her when I hear James open her door and pad over to the nursery. Iris gets quiet as I hear James singing a lullaby. I mute the television and listen. I can’t make out the words, but the melody is beautiful. Listening to James sing lulls me into my own relaxed state. I don’t hear her when she walks into the room, and we startle one another.

“Oh, shit!” She squeals, placing her hand over her heart. “I didn’t know you were home.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” she says, sitting beside me on the couch. “How was work?”

My initial instinct is to lie. I like to placate people and make them laugh. But the truth is, my day was shitty, and it will be nice to be honest about it.

“It was rough,” I admit on a loud exhale. “We lost a child we’ve been working with for over a year.”

James places her hand on mine, and I immediately find comfort in the gesture.

“I get that I chose this field, and I will see young people die, but it hurts every fucking time,” I say as the heat builds behind my eyes. “This kid was so cool, James. He wanted to be a zoologist,” I chuckle. “And his family,” I trail off momentarily while gathering my thoughts. “They are the best people.”

She squeezes my hand for reassurance.

“This one hurts like Hell,” I repeat. Without thinking, I drop my head in her lap and curl up on the couch. James begins stroking my hair and lightly rubbing my back as tears slowly escape my eyes and land on the fabric of her pajama bottoms. I know this is crossing a line, but I need her right now as a friend.

She allows me to cry in silence. Once I’ve released the pent-up emotion, I lift my head and look at her. She is illuminated only by the light of the television, but I can see the emotion in her eyes as she looks at me.

It dawns on me that I’ve come to need her almost as much as the baby. It scares the Hell out of me, honestly. It’s not just me anymore. If I fuck this up, it affects my daughter.

Now is not the time to think about this. I’m beyond exhausted and just need to get my bearings. James leans over and kisses my cheek softly as if she understands where I’m at.

“Goodnight, Marcus,” she says softly before she quietly leaves the room.

Chapter twenty-seven

Seeing Stars

James- Age 23

I pick up Iris and place her on my hip. She’s getting bigger and heavier every week. She’s really starting to develop her own personality. She loves bright colors, looking at shapes, animals of all kinds, music, and being read to.

Conversely, she doesn’t like being hungry; being passed around and kissed by the entire family; loud, startling noises; and a dirty diaper. I can’t blame her for any of those things. I would feel the exact same way.

She’s warming up to the ocean slowly. Marcus had her on the board and sat in the shallows bobbing up and down. She doesn’t seem to mind that but hates the life jacket she’s forced to wear. Marcus is determined to turn her into a surfer, though.

He’s also taken her on his parent’s boat, pushed her while she sits on a skateboard, and has become much too comfortable tossing her in the air for my liking. She always laughs and seems to enjoy it, so I put my protective instincts aside.

We walk outside to get the mail. I thumb through it to separate out the junk when my heart drops. I got a letter from The Renault Conservatory in New York City. My heart hammers in my chest as we walk back inside. I sit Iris down on her blanket and stare at the envelope with shaky hands.

I’ve been waiting for this my entire life. Carefully I peel back the seal and remove the perfectly folder letter. Taking a deep breath, I open it and read the top lines.

Dear Ms. Parker,

We regret to inform you of your application…

I don’t need to read anything more. I’ve already received two of these letters in the past six months. It stings every time, but it’s also starting to come with a sliver of relief. I’m just not sure where I’m supposed to be.

I neatly fold the letter and place it back on the counter before turning to look at Iris. She’s looking up at me expectantly with a big smile consisting of two little bottom teeth. It immediately takes away some of the sting of the rejection. I sit down on the blanket with her and we play with her colorful blocks.