Page 32 of Light

I purse my lips. “So I guess an apology is overdue.”

She swipes up her free hand in a dismissive wave. “Let’s leave the silliness to the boys in the next room.” Then cocks her head and kicks up one side of her mouth. “No apologies—but perhaps a few explanations? Considering you have a kid in there who looks like a ten-month-old but is walking, talking, and nearly applying for college—and you’re still all Zen World supermom, as if all of this is normal?” She frowns at the dripping ball, which has begun looking like a lemon instead of a baby chick head. “So what gives here, baby girl? You do know none of this normal, right? So where’s the Easter Egg in this plot? Are you freaking out in private or…”

“No.” I attempt a small smile between my measured breath in and my resigned exhalation. Lux’s cognitive progress isn’t the only factor around here that’s running faster than it should. I owed this explanation to ’Dia a long time ago but have been taking advantage of her tactful distance from the subject. “Reece and I were well aware of his…errrmm…uniqueness…long before he turned himself into our New Year’s present.”

“And?” she prompts when my silence extends too long to be a simple pause. “You’ll have work harder than that to drop my jaw, sister. You think I didn’t figure this out after”—she laughs as a new spattering of claps and a fresh “holy shit” cut in on her from the den—“the first time he did that?” she concludes, giving up on the lemon-shaped pop and starting anew with another. “But I’ve been holding back on pressing you about it,” she goes on, her expression softening. “It’s one thing when you’re a mere mortal with a new baby, dealing with every damn detail of life that changes. Gotta be a whole new level of stress when you’ve given birth to Sonic the Super Baby and can’t tell your own mother about it.”

I laugh because it’s better than tears. “Yeah. Something like that.”

’Dia growls and then palms her forehead. “Annnnd I evidently am not thinking like a sane person today.” And then lurches off her barstool and rushes to my side of the island, scooping me into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, baby girl. That had all the sensitivity of a floor full of Lego bricks.”

“That mean you’re volunteering to help my kid pick his up?” As soon as we share a good giggle at that, I tug her into a new hug. “Listen. It’s fine. You can walk on Legos around here but not on eggshells, okay?” I shrug. “Things are what they are with Mom. Maybe one day, and hopefully soon, she’ll have her sanity back.” I force as much positivity into it as I can, despite the fact that Reece and the team—which now includes Calvin, who’s faking his way through a continued relationship with Juliet in hopes of the girl giving up more details about Faline’s location or plans—haven’t gained a shred of new intel to act on. “Until then, at least Lux has the blessing of one grandmother, as well as—”

“Grandpy Todd!”

The volume of my son’s shriek makes his previous cries sound like gentle rainfall. Sure enough, Lux is answered by the rhythmic rap with which ’Dia and I are all too familiar. For years, it was the tap that served every purpose from summoning us to dinner to reminding us to start homework. Because of that, we trade commiserating grins while listening to Sawyer challenge Lux to a race for the front door.

“Ahhhh, it really is our paternal unit, baby girl,” my sister remarks, leaning over to cast a smile down the hall, toward the front foyer. “And oh my, does he look snazzy.”

“‘Snazzy’?” I tease. “Thank you so much for the red-carpet commentary, diva.”

“Most welcome, daaahhhling.” She giggles.

I plunk down the last of the white lamb pops to join her in watching my little guy and her big guy slide onto the area rug inside the front door. We chuckle softly together as Sawyer and Lux go down in a raucous heap, flashing glimpses of gold hair, bluejeaned butts, and Aquaman T-shirts. “I just thank God he did a while ago.”

Lydia folds her arms and rolls out a sardonic expression.

“Oh, hell,” she quips past quirking lips. “I’m in love with a cheeky meatcake.”

“Then thank God you’re not a vegetarian.”

She backhands my shoulder, but my answering giggles are chopped short by my son’s gleeful squeal. “Mama, Mama. Look! Grandpy Todd—and Unca Chase!”

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” I laugh once more as my brother-in-law sweeps me into a full hug. Another affectionate hug for Joany, who’s just finished with presenting Lux a little present. The action figure, complete with light-up wings, becomes his new fascination—the same way he captivates Chase and Joany with his little zooming and zapping sounds. Not that they can be blamed. The sight isn’t instinctual for anyone—an infant mastering a toy meant for a kid three times his age—though everyone on the team has grown so used to the anomaly. It’s just daily life for us.

“We hope you don’t mind us dropping in,” Chase offers. “It was a last-minute decision, and we figured we’d just surprise you guys.”

I beam a smile at my handsome brother-in-law and his petite and pretty wife. “And what an awesome surprise it is.” I break in on myself with a little laugh. “Though I’m sorry if my enthusiasm got either of you flour-dusted. We’re in the middle of sugar-high barnyard pals for a playgroup field trip to the zoo tomorrow.”

“Ooooo.” Joany breaks out with goodie-goodie claps. “Sounds like fun! Dibs on the roosters.”

Open wince. “Uhhhh…we have chickens…” And then a hopeful smile. Roosters are beyond my fondant-molding skills.

“But no roosters?” Joany pushes her purse and sweater into her husband’s grasp. “Now what’s a barnyard without roosters?”

As soon as she disappears around the corner into the kitchen, Chase and I trade good-natured chuckles. “Guess you’re getting roosters now,” he remarks.

“Guess I am.” I grin.

“But that doesn’t mean they come with houseguests too. If you’ve got a full headcount, Jo and I can head down and find an Airbnb.” As soon as he states it, I peer around and realize all he’s holding are his wife’s things. There’s no luggage behind him in the foyer or out on the front step. I do take note of their shiny rental parked between Sawyer’s Ducati and the Q8, and I take a second to wish that Reece’s new M850i would appear with him behind the wheel, flashing his most roguish smirk as he parks. But that moment is still hours away, and at least I’m not waiting all by myself now.

“Nonsense,” I chide Chase. “Your mom was only in town last week for the RRO board meeting, but you probably already knew that. Anyway, her room is freshly made up and free.”

“Awesome.” He lifts a fresh smile, which puts deeper grooves into the crinkles at his temples but doesn’t diminish his boyish good looks. After indulging a chuckle at Lux’s antics with the action figure, he says, “Summer’s already in full swing back in New York, and the heat was a bear to endure. We’re happy to be here, back inside the blissful Bolt bubble.”

At once, I break out an affirming smile—for myself as well as him. The blissful Bolt bubble. There aren’t many ways to express it better, and I’m aware of my soul’s new plea to the universe that this glass ball stays intact for a little while longer. While Reece and I used the announcement of Lux’s birth to convince the public we’d merely been “busy” and “preoccupied” instead of hiding from the harpy who’s hell-bent on drafting all of humanity into her crazy cult, it was also our way of withdrawing from the limelight for a while. I have to admit, it was an excuse I welcomed—along with the epiphany it brought.

That “more” doesn’t always have to be a grand adventure with my hair on fire.