JACKSON
It's beautiful outside. There's a light breeze blowing the trees in our backyard and the temperature is right around 75. I'm in the yard with my girls, and April has Moonie on her lap while she braids her hair.
I'm sitting in front of them, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees and making Moonie laugh with silly facial expressions. I stick my tongue out and she laughs, her little shoulders bouncing, and I laugh too. April smiles along with us as she holds hair ties between her teeth, intricately weaving a line of French braids on the top of Moonie's head. She always talks about how lucky she is that Ramona will still sit for this and not complain. April has loved braiding our daughter's hair since it got long enough to do so.
"Who's this, Moon?" I ask, donning an exaggerated frown and wagging my pointer finger. "No candy before dinner!"
Moonie laughs and tips her head up towards April, who's giving me a playfully annoyed look. "Mama," Ramona says, then laughs harder.
"I'm being targeted," April says, teeth still clenched around hair ties. "I let you guys have candy before dinner sometimes!"
I lean over and whisper loudly to Ramona, "Not enough."
Moonie smiles and makes steady eye contact, looking at me with those eyes that April always says I gave her. I see myself in their color, that's true, but the shape and energy behind them she gets from her mommy. She has a spark that belongs only to one other person in the entire world - April.
Once Ramona's hair is finished, there are four French braids on top that lead to the rest of her hair that will stay down and undone. "Beautiful," I say.
April rubs her hands together after putting a small amount of coconut mousse on them, then smoothes it over the top of Ramona's head. "You look so pretty, Moon," April tells her, turning her head to look Ramona in the eyes. She holds a handheld mirror in front of Moonie's face so she can see, and Moon smiles.
"I see Mommy," she says, looking in the mirror before turning around to look at April's face.
April smiles. "Look at your hair, baby," she says, gesturing towards the mirror. "See? Do you like it?"
Ramona grins. Today has been a day full of smiles, and I'm so grateful for it. She presses one tiny finger to the surface of the mirror and says it again, "Mommy."
"You're so silly," April says, kissing Moonie's cheek over and over. "I love you."
I watch them with warm eyes, then hear a voice come around the side of the house - a voice I hadn't expected. "Hello!" my mother shouts, announcing her presence.
We hadn't been expecting her. The last we heard from her was the book she sent three weeks ago. I kept meaning to call and talk to her about it, but it continued to slip my mind. Needless to say, the fact that she's here right now is a surprise, and it catches us all off guard.
"Catherine?" April says, frowning a little.
"Surprise!" she says. "I couldn't go another day without seeing my grandbaby."
"Mom, you could've called," I say.
"Only to have you tell me that you're busy? No, thank you," she says lightly. "I find that showing up works much better."
"Catherine, if we would've known…" April begins, already starting to stress out. I can tell. She moves to stand up, trying to maneuver Moonie as she does, but my mom stops her.
"Sit," she says. "I'm here to give you two a break, not be accommodated."
"What are you talking about?" I ask, glancing first at April and then my mother.
"I'm here so you two can go out!" she says. "Gamma Cat is gonna take care of you tonight, Ramona Grace."
I look quickly to Moonie, who's resting against April and still smiling. My heart swells with love as I look at her, at this simple, random time. Sometimes, the amazement of having a child like her washes over me at the strangest times.
"Oh, Catherine, you don't have to do that," April says, swaying gently from side to side as she rocks Moonie.
"I know," Mom says. "I want to."
"Mom, really," I say. "This is something that we should work out ahead of time. We've never left Moonie with anyone."
"Even more reason to give you a break. You two look exhausted, and you deserve some time to yourselves."
"We don't need-" April starts, but Mom stops her with one raised hand.
"I'm not going to take no for an answer, so you two might as well make this easier on everyone and just accept the offer," she says, raising her eyebrows at both of us. "I promise, I know what I'm doing. I raised him, didn't I?"
April takes a deep breath and centers herself, then looks at me. I'm already looking at her, waiting for an answer, and I think she's doing the same of me. I give her a small shrug, feeling helpless, and she mirrors the gesture.
"Are you sure, Mom?" I ask.
"More than sure," she says.
The four of us go inside, and April holds Moonie on her hip while giving my mom the laundry list of instructions that come with caring for Ramona.
"She should eat in about an hour," April says. "Her special spoons are in the dishwasher. I can get them out if you want; they're clean. There's leftover oatmeal in the fridge that you can heat up; she really likes that. And avocado. She really needs to eat a good amount of the avocado, because the doctor wants more fats in her. Um…" She hitches Ramona higher and thinks. "Her pajamas are folded at the end of her bed, and it's fine if she skips a bath tonight. I can give her one tomorrow. Bedtime is around 7:30 or so, 7 if you can make it happen. She might not fall asleep for you, since she's only used to us, but -"
"April, sweetheart," Mom says. "I've done the whole 'mom' thing before. We'll be fine, I assure you. And you're just a phone call away, right?"
"Well, right, but-"
"You don't need to worry," Mom says. "I'll take her. You go get ready."
Upstairs, April is standing in our closet wearing a bra and underwear, messing with the necklace she always wears. It's a small, circular gold pendant stamped with 'RG' on a dainty gold chain. I got it for her when Ramona was born.
"Jackson…"
"Yeah. I know."
"But things will be fine, right? She'll be fine?"
"She will."
April sighs and rifles through her hanging clothes. "Should I wear a dress? Where are we even going?" She laughs softly, mostly to herself. "I don't remember how to do this."
"Put on a dress," I say. "Why not? I'll wear something nice, too. Let's go eat someplace fancy."
She scoffs and glances at me over her bare shoulder, saying, "We don't have the money for that."
"Tonight, sure we do," I say, then wrap one arm around her stomach. I kiss her neck, just once, and pat her hip. "It'll be nice, Abey," I say.
She grins, her lips covering her teeth, and holds my cheek with one hand. "Okay," she says, then nods surely. "Okay."
I can't stop staring at April once she slips on the black dress she knows I love. I can't remember the last time she wore it - probably around four years ago - and while I'm still a little uneasy about leaving Ramona, that dress gets me out the door.
I can tell April wants to go, too. Most of her does, at least. The fraction of her that can't bear to leave lingers in the doorway, smooching Ramona's cheeks and telling her that we'll be back later tonight. My mom has to shoo her away before she steals Ramona and brings her along to chaperone our date.
As we sit side-by-side in our Honda, the silence is deafening for a moment. Then, we look towards each other at the same time and burst into incredulous laughter.
"It feels really weird without her," April says, eyes on the empty car seat.
"It does," I say, backing out of the driveway. "But what's not weird is you in that dress. You're killin' me, smalls."
"Well, you clean up pretty nice, too," she says, leaning over to kiss my jaw.
It doesn't take us very long to pick a restaurant and find a table, being that it's Wednesday night and barely anyone else is here. We peruse the menu together and agree on a bottle of red wine; April orders fettuccine alfredo and I get the steak, two dishes that aren't unusual for either of us.
"The other day," April says, covering her mouth as she wipes alfredo sauce off of her lips. "I was talking to Moonie, and I was joking around and said 'how dare you?' all dramatic, and Jackson, it was so funny, she said it back to me in the exact same tone. I have never heard her say something like that, and I think she knew exactly what it meant!"
I laugh along with her. "I definitely need to hear that one," I say. "Did you see her touching the grass today?"
April nods with a smile. "Isn't it so cute when she runs her palm over it? She loves the way the little blades feel."
"I was telling Ben about that the other day," I say, referencing my buddy at the station. "He was talking about how much his son hated the grass for the longest time."
"Guess Moonie's just superior," April says, giggling.
"Oh, always," I say.
We keep eating and trading little anecdotes about Ramona, making each other laugh and not caring that she's the only topic on the forefront of both of our minds.
"I miss that baby," I say, taking a sip of wine. "Should we call her?"
"Just to say goodnight," April says. "So your mom doesn't think we're breathing down her neck."
"Of course, of course," I say, then pull out my phone. My mom answers on the third ring, and I put it on speaker. "Hey, Mom," I say. "We just wanna say goodnight to Moonie."
"Everything's fine, you worrywarts," she says. "You're supposed to be enjoying yourselves."
"We are!" April says. "But it's close to bedtime, so we thought we'd call and check in to say sweet dreams."
Mom puts the phone close to Ramona, and April and I both tell her that we love her and that we'll see her soon. She doesn't say much - she never does on the phone, no matter who's on the other end - but it's enough just to hear her breathing.
"Now, concentrate on something else for a couple hours," Mom says before hanging up.
After we leave the restaurant, April and I walk down the sidewalk with our elbows linked, unsure of the next step.
"What now?" she asks.
"I honestly don't know," I say.
She laughs a little and bumps into my side with her own, a playful nudge. "Wanna know something funny?" she says.
"Tell me."
"I really don't wanna go anywhere or do anything exciting. All I wanna do is…" She looks at me with wide eyes, the goofy expression on her face perpetuated by the half bottle of wine she drank at dinner. I downed the other half, but I can hold my alcohol a whole lot better than she can.
"All you wanna do is what?" I ask.
"You know..." she says, twining both arms around my waist as we continue to walk. She tips her chin up to look at me, elongating her neck and smiling loosely.
"Oh, that?" I say, although I've been thinking along those very same lines. "You're sick, you know that?"
"So sick," she says, giggling.
"Good thing I'm sick, too," I say, then squeeze her ass before smacking it lightly. "Let's find the car. I'll take us someplace quiet."
…
I drive to the movie theater and park behind it, making sure for April that there are no other cars around. "We're safe," I say, shedding the blazer that I'd been wearing and tossing it into the back. "Let me put the seats down."
April giggles and unbuckles, sitting on her knees in the passenger's seat to watch me work. "I can't believe we're doing this," she says.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," I say.
"Well, we're not desperate," she says. "We just had sex the other day."
"That was last month, Abey."
"Oh. Well. Still," she says.
"You might not be desperate, but I am," I say, lowering the last seat. "I wanna have sex with my wife. So, will you get back here?"
Smirking, she kicks off her heels and leaves them in the front. Then, she crawls over the console and joins me in the back, flat now that the seats are lowered.
"I feel like a teenager," she whispers. "Unzip me, please."
I circle my arms around to her back and pull the zipper of her dress down, then kiss the round of her shoulder. "You don't look like a teenager, thank god," I say, slipping the material off over her head.
After making sure that nothing is behind her, April lays down and pulls my shoulders so I'll come with her. As we kiss, she works on the buttons of my shirt, separating them one by one with those lithe fingers, and grinds her core against my thigh that's positioned between her legs.
"What are you so sexy for," I murmur against her lips, my skin erupting in chills from the way her fingernails run down my back.
She smiles through a kiss and tugs at the waistband of my pants. "I love when you say stuff like that," she whispers, undoing the button. Once I'm pantsless and just in my boxers, I lower my hips to rest between hers and she says, "I feel you."
"I feel you, too," I say, grinding against her center.
"Oh," she whimpers, hugging my sides tighter with her knees.
Then, she starts laughing and covers her face with one hand. I pull it away gently and ask, "What?"
"It's just funny to me," she says, meeting my eyes. "That we've done this so many times, yet I still can't control myself when you get me like this. It's funny."
"I'm just that good, huh?"
"Guess so," she says.
"For the record, I can't control myself when it comes to you, either," I say, then kiss her hard.
"I know," she breathes, dragging her fingertips through my facial hair. "And I love it."
We don't wait long. I have to get inside her, and I love knowing that she needs me just as bad. As my hips rock and she tightens around me, I press the lengths of our bodies together - her naked chest against my naked chest, her stomach pressing in and out against mine, our legs tangled up as our muscles tense and release in a rhythm only we know.
I let her go first. I hold myself off for as long as I can - it's not easy, given the erotic sounds that come out of her gorgeous mouth when she comes - but I do it. I love feeling her clench around me while I'm already so close, it pushes me over the edge every time.
She can barely catch her breath as she comes down, and her chest is flushed pink and sweaty. I bend to kiss it, licking the tiny droplets of perspiration away and tasting the salt that comes with them. "Love you," she sighs.
"Love you so much," I return, kissing her breasts and dragging my lower lip over her right nipple before pulling it into my mouth to suck on it.
She moans, back arching as she grips my head. "Love you so much," she says as I tuck my hand between her legs and make her come for a second time in under five minutes. After she's finished, I lick her off my fingers and kiss her so she can taste herself, too. "You're filthy," she says with a smile.
"You just sucked yourself off my fingers," I say. I reach over her for the blanket that I spread over our bare bodies. "I'm not the only filthy one here."
"Guess you're right," she says, nuzzling her cheek against my chest. She always snuggles as close as possible after sex - I love that about her. It's not exactly manly to admit that I love to cuddle, but I do. That was something I didn't find out until I met her, the most affectionate person on the planet.
I'm not sure how long we lay there in silence. I don't know if she's sleeping, but I'm not. I can't see much because of how foggy the car windows are, which is fine. I'm calm. My mind is quiet. I'm just happy to be here with her, sated.
April suddenly inhales and twitches, running one hand over my stomach. "Fell asleep for a second," she says, words slurring a bit. "I'm awake now."
"You can sleep if you want, baby."
"No," she says. "I was just dreaming. Remember when we brought Moonie home? I was remembering that."
"In the dream?"
She laughs sleepily. "I'm not sure," she says. "But do you remember?"
"I remember you insisting that driving 15 miles per hour was too fast."
"You totally agreed with me."
"Yeah," I say, smiling. "You're right."
I sense her returned smile more than I see it. I can't see her face with the way that we're lying, all intertwined with one another in the somewhat-cramped back half of the car.
"I didn't know who I was until we had her," April says.
It takes a moment for her words to fully sink in. When they do, though, I realize how true they are for me, too.
"Yeah," I say, kissing her forehead. "I know exactly what you mean."
…
When we get home, we're both expecting the house to be dark and quiet. It's after 11pm, way past both Moonie and my mom's bedtimes. But when we pull into the driveway, there are a considerable amount of lights on.
"That's weird," April says, unbuckling. "Can you zip me? Also, does it look like you just railed me in the back seat? Say no."
"Um… no," I say, chuckling. "But yes."
She sighs and shrugs, grabbing her bag to head inside. I'm close on her heels, keys jingling as she waits by the door. As soon as I open it, we're met with the sound of Ramona crying from upstairs, and April turns her head with a concerned expression.
"Ramona?" she calls, kicking her heels off haphazardly.
I hear my mom say something, but I'm not sure what it is. I follow April upstairs without bothering to take off my jacket or shoes, and see what she sees at just the same time.
My mom is sitting on Ramona's bedroom floor with Moonie in front of her, assumedly in the process of getting changed into pajamas. But she's not touching Ramona at all. Instead, Moonie is trapped inside her pajama shirt, her head halfway out of the top hole and her arms tangled somewhere within the shirt. As for pants, she's not wearing any. Just a Pull-Up. The matching bottoms are strewn to the side, not touched yet.
"Mom!" I say, a knee-jerk reaction.
"What's going on?" April says, flying into action. She gets between my mother and Ramona, pulling the pajama shirt so Ramona's head is free. Once her little face comes out, I see how upset she is. Her face is soaked with tears and drool, her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy. She's been crying for a while, that's clear. April pulls her arms through, then holds her close without bothering with the pants. She pulls Moonie in and wraps her up tight, closing her eyes while shushing our little girl.
"We were just changing, that's all," Mom says.
"Why was she crying? Why weren't you helping her?" April demands.
"I know she can do it on her own. She just needed a little push. I was right here beside her, she knew that. I wasn't going to leave her. I just think it's time she tried to put on her own PJs."
April's eyes are aflame and enraged. She unfolds her legs and stands up with Ramona in her arms, storming past my mother to head into our room, I assume. It's probably for the best. Ramona needs her, and my mom won't hear anything from April. She'll barely hear it from me.
"Jackson, she's three now," Mom says, starting right in. "It's about time that she-"
"Mom," I say, inhaling deeply. "Please. You have to understand. Ramona has Krabbe. It doesn't let her do 'normal' kid things or advance at a rate that you're used to. She can't dress herself. Sometimes, she can't feed herself. She can't use the toilet. Krabbe doesn't let that happen. Do you not get that? Did you forget, or something?"
"Of course, I didn't forget," she says. "But the way you two do everything for her doesn't help. I can only imagine it encourages her to regress."
"I can assure you, it's not us who's encouraging her to regress!" I say. My voice has begun to raise without my permission. "It's fucking Krabbe, Mom! We have no fucking say in the matter, do you not get that?"
She stands up in a huff, her jaw clenched. "Don't speak to me that way," she says.
"I'll stop talking to you like this when you stop treating my daughter like an animal that needs to be trained," I say. "She's perfect the way she is right now."
"Of course she is. I just think-"
"I'm sorry, Mom, but I really don't give a shit about what you think," I say, spewing anger. "And while we're on the subject, stop sending us books about fucking death and loss! She's still alive, you know! She's right here, right in front of us."
"I was just trying to-"
I lift a hand and stop her from speaking. "Just get out," I say. "Please. Just go. We'll talk later."
"Jackson, I didn't mean to upset you or April."
"I'm not worried about you upsetting us," I say. "I'm worried about Moonie. So, if you could please leave, I'd appreciate that. Like I said, we'll talk later."
With a deep sigh, she has no choice but to concede. "Fine," she says, resigned. She walks past me and I don't move until I hear the front door shut.
With heavy shoulders, I cross the hall to find April in bed with Moonie, still cradling her close with Moonie's face pressed tight against her neck.
"She left," I say quietly, then shed my outer layer of clothes. I crawl into bed and wipe April's tears with my thumb, then kiss her softly on the cheek. After that, I kiss the back of Moonie's head and rest my lips there, breathing in her sweet, baby scent. "I'm sorry, Moonie," I say, closing my eyes as they start to burn. "Daddy's so sorry."
…
A few days later, I come home to an unfamiliar car in the driveway. As I walk through the house to the backyard, I see April sitting with her little sister, Alice, on the back patio, and my questions are answered. The girls - Moonie and Layne - are playing in the grass near their moms.
I push open the slider and both red-haired heads turn towards me. "Hey, baby," April says. "There's lemonade in the fridge if you want some. The girls helped us make it earlier."
"We used lots and lots of sugar!" Layne shouts. She gets up from where she'd been sitting and bolts over, attacking my legs with a giant hug. "Uncle Jackson!"
"Hey, Lay-Lay," I say, then lift her up and hold her like a football under my arm. "Hi, Moonie!" I call.
She lifts her head, wearing her new, thicker glasses, and shoots me a smile.
"Come here, baby girl!" I say, then set Layne down.
Layne rushes over to her cousin. She grabs Ramona's hand and helps her up, but runs too fast for Moonie's stumbling legs to keep up. Moonie trips over her feet and lands on her hands and knees, which earns Layne a scolding from Alice.
"Layne!" Alice snaps. "Please, be careful. Ramona needs you to slow down."
"She's going too slow, Mommy, I'm helping her," Layne says. "Come on, Moonie!"
Ramona's legs have a different plan than her brain does as she tries to get up. There's not much that Layne can do, and my heart pangs as I watch it happen. I have no idea why I just stand there as my daughter struggles to her feet, but I do. A thousand thoughts whip through my brain - all centered around the fact that this isn't fair and I'd do anything to trade places with Ramona so she'd never have to experience anything negative ever again.
How come Layne gets to run around, express every thought that crosses her mind, and only feel physical pain when she falls and scrapes a knee?
It's tough, because there's not a single thing I would change about who Ramona is as a person. Everything that's happened in her small life has made her who she is today. But she still doesn't deserve the sentence she's been given. It's not right. And I know it's not about 'deserving' it, but my mind goes there sometimes. Sometimes, like now, when I witness firsthand the glaring differences between her and her cousin.
Ramona should be chasing Layne around the yard, giggling with her, making up silly stories. But instead, all she can do is watch as Layne dances circles around her. It's not right. Having Layne and Alice here leaves such a bad taste in my mouth for entirely the wrong reasons - but I know Ramona and April love having them around. I would never cast them away because of these pervasive thoughts.
"Hey," April says, sauntering up with Moonie on her hip. I'd been so out of it, so lost in my head, that I hadn't realized that she'd gone to help Moonie up. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I say, scrubbing my face with one hand. "Just… long day."
She stands on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. "Al and Layne just popped by. They're not staying."
"No, no, they can," I say. "I don't mind. I might just go lay down, or something."
"Baby," April says, grabbing my hand and stroking my knuckles with her thumb. "Are you sure you're okay?"
I force a smile - for Ramona, if anything. "Yeah, I'm fine," I say, then plant a kiss on either of their foreheads. "Just tired."
"Okay," April says, clearly not believing me. "Well, she's tired too. Can she come lay down with you?"
"Of course," I say, then take Moonie from her. Immediately, she relaxes and rests her head on my shoulder - just like her mama always does. "Should we go take a nap, Moon?" She nods, and I kiss her again. "Daddy's got ya," I tell her.
"Daddy," she says, and April and I smile at each other after she speaks. We hear her voice less and less these days.