"Five pounds, nine ounces. That's plenty big." Olivia reaches for a carton of milk and gives it an aggressive shake.
"Hello," I whisper as I draw him near. His navy eyes are glassy as he blinks at me. This tiny being is seeing me for the very first time. I try to smile, but I want to cry. His pink button nose is more than I can handle. He grimaces and smiles on a loop. But it's the shape of his lips, of his eyebrows, the familiar contours of his face. "Annie"-I turn towards her with this precious angel in my arms-"what I've been trying to tell you for so long is that this precious little boy"-I swallow hard just trying to push the words through the brick lodged in my throat, taking the words nice and slow-"he truly belongs to my brother. This is Benji's baby. Olivia was Ben's girlfriend in the end. Not mine."
"Back up the tape." Olivia spins her finger in the air.
"We dated for a while in the dark ages. Ben sort of snagged her away, and I was okay with that. Our run was long over."
Annie's eyebrows arch deep into her forehead. A pleasant look of surprise takes over for a moment before she melts again into the baby.
A swell of relief fills me because I'm pretty sure Annie just understood what I've been dying to tell her.
"This is his child." Her voice cracks with grief.
"And now he's mine." I touch my lips to his suede soft skin. "This is the only piece of my brother I have left." I blink back the tears as I look at my son, the exact reflection of my brother, of me. "I promise, I'm going to love you forever, buddy. I'm here for you. I always will be."
"He's beautiful." Annie whispers as she touches her finger to his tiny hand, and he claps onto her like he's never letting go. He already knows a good thing when he sees it. "What's his name?"
I cradle him between the two of us.
"His name is Benjamin. Just like his daddy."
Last Song
Annie
Snow blows through Hollow Brook like a procession of swirling stars tumbling over the velvet backdrop of night.
Blake suggested a detour before he drops me back off at the dorm. Baby Ben is still tucked safely away at the hospital with the nurses and Olivia-although I wouldn't particularly call him safe with her from what I can tell. She's a piece of work that I wouldn't trust with my child, and, in a way, I feel that protective of this tiny being I just met. I still can't wrap my head around the fact Blake is a father, uncle-uncle-father. It's as if I've been thrust into another universe, but this isn't about me. The focus is on this beautiful baby that his brother Benji is unable to care for, and I'm proud of Blake for stepping up. Today my heart grew for him, the size of a mountain.
We drive up the steep embankment on the way to that special place where we shared our first sunset. We pass the Witch's Cauldron with its steam rising into the sky like ghosts, the rushing river as it threads into icy ropes. We park up at the top, and Blake helps me out as we make our way to the overlook.
We belly up to the stone wall that sits along the edge of the cliff as we peer down at the miniature world, dusted in white, with its city lights winking into the night.
It's gorgeous. The blue light of my phone gives an ethereal effect on this already fairytale-like evening.
Blake's chest rises and falls with a breath as he looks at the phone. He types quickly into his and sends me a text. You don't need this, Annie. You speak beautifully. His eyes carry a heartbreak that's all for me.
I like this. This is comfortable. I take a deep breath. Besides, I think we need to say a few things, and this way I can focus on what I'm trying to say and not how I might sound.
He gives a brief nod. The wind picks up, fast and violent, slicing through my sweater like a thousand frozen knives.
Can I hold you? Blake looks as if the world just unhinged and landed on his back. The weight of this day alone has aged him.
"Yes," I whisper.
Blake warms me in his arms before typing something out. I'm so sorry I hurt you, Annie. After Ben died I knew Olivia would need me. I volunteered to help out with the baby, and that's when she let me know she didn't want to keep it. She's not exactly-maternal.
I have a feeling that's putting it mildly.
"Very true." He types into his phone again. A few months ago she had me sign paperwork making me the legal father of Benjamin. He swallows hard at the mention of his brother's name. I don't know what's going to happen with Olivia. I know her-she'll want to be in this child's life, just not with a starring role, more of a side character that you get a card from at Christmas. Who knows, maybe something more, only the future will tell. I know I bit off a lot, but I didn't want to have any regrets later on. This is big. It's a life. Benji is gone, and he can't raise his son. I know he'd never ask me to do this, but I want to. I want to shower his child-my child-with the love Ben and I sometimes didn't bother to express. His chest expands as he looks out at the low hanging moon-a half smile that hangs faceless in the night. It's not the right time in my life for this to have happened, but it may never have been right.
Blake stills into me a moment, and our breath conjoins in a pale plume of light. How are you going to manage? I ask.
Wyatt offered to help. He flashes the phone my way before continuing. He hired a nanny, a sweet old woman I've yet to meet, but he swore he checked her out. I trust him.
I trust him, too.
A comfortable silence crops up as the wind threatens to blow us right over the edge.
"Do you trust me, Annie?" Blake says the words slowly, staggered as if it fatigued and grieved him all at once to consider the alternative.
"Yes," I whisper.
He nods at his phone. If I could do it all again I'd figure out a way to tell you sooner. I was going to tell you that day your brothers did. Ironic. I guess I got what I deserved.
No, Blake. I wrap my arms around him tight for a moment. You deserve a medal for what you're about to do. I'm not that big of a deal.
"You are a very big deal." He clicks into the phone. You are important to me. I would do anything to get back what we had. The price of my silence was far too high. He takes in a large gulp of air preparing for what comes next. Do you still want this with me?
"Yes." I say it loud without hesitation. "I want everything with you, Blake."
He closes his eyes as a dull laugh thumps through him.
He holds a finger up a moment and heads to the truck. Blake strides back with a small black bag.
"For you." He hands it over as if it were just as precious as that baby back at the hospital.
Carefully, I open it revealing a Canon camera that blows doors off the one I happen to own. I'm familiar with this model. It does everything but fly.
I shake my head. "I can't accept this." If he returns this, it could buy him three years' worth of diapers.
He flashes his phone my way. It belonged to Benji. Both he and I would love for you to have it.
Tears come, and I don't fight them. This is his brother's camera-his most prized possession up until today.
I nod. "Okay. But it really belongs to your little boy."
Blake types into his phone. Then you'll have to teach him to use it when he's older.
"Done."
"You'll still be here." He doesn't ask it as a question. Or maybe he did, but I'd like to believe it was a fact.
I bite down on a devilish grin. "You couldn't stop me."
"Annie." His lips fall to mine before he dives into my mouth with relief, with fury, with passion that rivals a thousand romance novels. This, right here, is far more beautiful than the magical view of the snowcapped city.
This is the real magic.
And Blake and I have captured it.
* * *
The Hoover Ear Clinic in Los Angeles is unassuming in nature. It sits across from a lustrous well recognized hospital in a mostly residential neighborhood. We park underground and head up to a limestone mecca that feels more like an upscale shopping mall than it does an internationally renowned clinic.
The Excel Implant-the device dubbed as a wondrous miracle by my mother, has been placed in both ears since two days after Christmas. A double implant. All of my mother's auditory dreams have come true. An entire month has drifted by, and now we're back in Los Angeles to turn on the devices and see if my auditory dreams are about to come true as well. I'll know within the hour if the implants work for me or not. I'll either hear the world and all its rainbow of sounds or continue on in the cushioned tunnel of silence that I've lived in for so long. I'm not as excited as my mother. I guess you could call me pessimistic, pragmatically suspicious-or simply a little frightened of the unknown. The surgeon suggested we wait a month to give the scar tissue a chance to heal, and today is the big day. It's time to flip a switch and hope for the best.