Summer, it seemed, was over faster than it had begun, and with autumn loomed her son's six-month birthday, and, possibly, the end of her tenure as a stay-at-home mother. M had called in regards to a position that was opening up at the beginning of November.
Vesper was suddenly struck with a variety of conflicting feelings as the older woman told her the news. She'd had to admit that some part of her yearned to be back amongst grown-ups once again, to be able to have adult conversations about things like politics and current events. She had been very good at her job, and had valued her career greatly, and it had been a point of pride that she had risen as far and as fast as she had.
But of course the thought of being away from her son for more than an hour or so sent her into paroxysms of guilt and anxiety. She couldn't imagine being away from him all day, leaving him in the care of such a young woman, no matter how capable she had proven herself to be. As well, he had yet to be weaned, and was still dependent on her exclusively for food.
Henry at five and a half months was becoming stouter by the day, now weighing over sixteen pounds, and was now able to sit up on his own without any support most of the time, which made playtime a lot more productive.
He could now sit and play with a toy, focussing so intently that Vesper was sometimes moved to tears by his little face screwed up in concentration. She and Christina spent hours on the floor with him, moving knobs and dials and pressing buttons for him, watching as he started to figure things out.
He could roll over on his own as well, if he were placed on his belly, and Vesper could see he had inherited his father's physical prowess, as he was already starting to scoot himself around by pulling his little bottom across the floor.
Vesper very much did not want to miss any future milestones, and she told M as much when the woman called her a week later.
"I understand," M replied, her voice soft. "There will be other positions. Perhaps waiting until the new year would be more suitable?" Vesper breathed a sigh of relief.
"Yes. I think that would be the better option," Vesper agreed, glancing at Christina, who approached her holding the chubby now six-month-old Henry, gazing up at his mother with round eyes.
"Alright," M's voice came into her ear, "I'll be in touch, and if I don't hear from you until the new year, I do wish you both a Happy Christmas." Vesper smiled, stroking her son's head.
"And to you," Vesper said.
She hung up the phone and turned to see Christina's expectant face staring back at her.
"So?" the girl asked, shifting the baby's already considerable weight to her other hip.
"I'm not taking it," Vesper told her, and the girl smiled brightly.
"Oh, good," she said. "I told you it was too soon."
"I know," Vesper said, sighing deeply. She shook the thoughts from her head. "Come on, you two, lunch in the park?"
"Park, Henry?" Christina asked the boy, making her eyes big. He smiled at her.
"Bah!" he said, "bah, bah, bah!"
"I think that was a yes," Vesper said, laughing, heading down the corridor to get their things.
Ω
Halloween in New York City was a much more significant holiday than in Britain, Vesper soon learned. Nearly every home had some sort of decoration in the window. The streets were lined with jack-o-lanterns, and children in bright and varied costumes roamed the streets.
She hadn't been prepared for the amount of effort Americans put into this holiday. In England, Halloween was much less noteworthy, having to compete with Bonfire Night just a few days later. There were few trick-or-treaters out in London on the thirty-first of October, certainly much less than the hordes of hungry children that greeted Vesper that first Halloween in America.
Christina showed up in the late afternoon, clad in a very elaborate Hermione Granger costume that left Vesper standing stunned by the time she'd obviously put into it. She came bearing a store-bought pumpkin costume for Henry, and insisted that the two of them take him out to a few homes.
Vesper wasn't too keen on it, and felt underdressed among the costumed parents and children she came upon, and so held back and allowed the exuberant Christina to take her son door-to-door, smiling proudly at the oohs and aahs her adorable little pumpkin garnered.
When they were done, Vesper put her tired son to bed, and sat on the sofa with Christina, still in her Hogwarts robes, eating Henry's loot and watching television.
With November came the first of the cooler weather, rain and gloom often permeating their days, and with this new month came her son's foray into the world of locomotion.
He'd gotten fairly skilled at pulling himself around, scooting along on his bottom a few feet at a time, and was able to stand with support for a few minutes at a time. And for quite some time now, he'd been leaning forward on his arms as he sat, sometimes able to get his knees under him and even rock a little bit on all fours.
But one cold, rainy Sunday afternoon in November that reminded Vesper very much of London, he was doing just that, when he moved one knee forward. Vesper stopped and watched, sensing a big breakthrough was about to happen, and then he moved his other knee forward, so that he was almost sitting on his feet again. And then, miraculously, he used his legs to lunge forward and move his right arm forward, and then his left.
He was up on all fours again, and stunned by what he'd just done, looked up at his mother in a sort of proud daze. She felt her throat start to tighten and tears burn at the corners of her eyes, and she quickly ran to fetch the camera.
A few hours later and dozens of photographs later he was starting to get the hang of this new crawling thing, and by the end of the week, he was moving so quickly around the flat, that she and Christina had had to quickly baby-proof the entire flat, moving everything off the floor and securing the toilet lids and covering wall sockets.
Vesper found that having a child who could now move around the flat fairly quickly left her feeling anxious most of the time. She and Christina were constantly having to follow him now, and watch him vigilantly as he was very curious and, much to Vesper's alarm, liked to explore.
As their first American Thanksgiving and the baby's seven-month birthday loomed, he became more and more vocal, his vocabulary expanding to several different syllables. He liked to imitate things that his mother and nanny said, though the words were often just gibberish.
One day, as Vesper came to get him out of his cot in the morning, he burst out with "Ma!" as soon as she walked in the door. She laughed incredulously, picking him up and kissing him, but she was soon disappointed when Christina arrived a few hours later and he called her the same thing.
But as the weeks went on and she observed from afar the American post-Thanksgiving Christmas-shopping extravaganza with a sort of horrified wonder, he began to be able to form words more readily, starting to call Vesper "Mama," and after some time call Christina "Nana."
She had to admit that she had never heard anything so beautiful as her own son knowing that she was his mother and being able to tell her so. She felt her heart skip a beat each morning she went in to get him from his cot and he saw her, breaking into a big grin and calling out her name excitedly.
Henry's first Christmas was a subdued affair. Vesper did not want to spoil him, as he was not particularly aware of just what was going on. So she picked him up a few little things, books and a couple of educational toys.
The weather had turned chilly, but any snow that fell quickly melted, leaving the sidewalks slushy and difficult to navigate. She and Christina took Henry to see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center watched Christina, who'd met up with some friends, skate skilfully around the ice rink.
Christina came over Christmas morning after opening gifts with her family to help Henry open his. The boy was impressed with the gifts, turning them over in his hands, but he had much more fun with the wrapping paper.
Christina invited Vesper over for dinner with her parents that evening, but Vesper declined. She did not want to intrude. As well, she was not in the mood for any sort of questions either parent might ask her about her past.
So she stayed home with her son, watching as he bored of the wrapping paper and boxes and began playing with some of his toys.
And then it was that last week of the year again. Vesper could not believe that it had gone by as quickly as it had, or that this time last year she had been pregnant and alone, her life quiet and mundane. Now it was anything but, each day a new adventure, the most exhausting thing she'd ever done, but also so joyful and rewarding.
New Year's Eve crept up rather quickly, and Vesper was surprised to find Christina at her door soon after she put Henry down for the night.
"I thought you were going out with your friends?" she asked, letting the girl in.
"I was," she said, entering and removing her coat, "but Chris and Brittany are going to Times Square, even after I told them I didn't want to go this year, and Rachel decided to tag along, so I just decided to stay home." The girl flopped down on the sofa dejectedly.
"This isn't home," Vesper said mildly, and the girl looked up at her.
"Yeah, well, Mom and Dad went out for dinner, and Michael's in Europe, so I didn't want to stay home alone." She picked up the remote and changed the channel. Vesper smiled. She forgot, sometimes, just how young Christina really was. She was often so responsible and hard-working that she seemed much older than her nineteen years.
But now, looking at the sad young woman sitting on her sofa, she felt an almost motherly affection for her. She needed someone right now, needed someone the way Vesper had needed someone when she'd first come to this city, though she hadn't even known it.
And so Vesper slipped out and picked up a bottle of mid-priced champagne, allowing the girl to share it with her. Christina's parents, being European themselves, often let the girl drink despite New York's draconian drinking laws. Henry slept soundly as they talked, the girl's demeanour improving as the night went on.
At one point, Vesper realised that it was the first time she'd drunk alcohol since the night her son was conceived. She grinned ruefully and allowed herself a few minutes of reflection, her less-inhibited mind drifting back to that night, that time. It had only a mere year and a half ago that she and James had sailed into Venice, but it felt almost like a dream, and that she had been another person entirely. So much had changed.
As the clock approached midnight, Vesper could not help but remember the New Year's Eve of the previous year, when she'd stood at the window watching the drunken students sing and chant, her son moving around inside her.
It was a far, lonely cry from the happy, slightly drunken countdown she and Christina made as they watched the ball drop on television, clinking their glasses together and wishing each other the best.
When the girl passed out on the sofa soon after, Vesper smiled and covered her with a blanket, before checking on her still-sleeping son.
The few glasses of champagne she'd had had left her slightly tipsy, as she stood at the window, watching people of all ages walking by in various stages of inebriety. A few people were trying to get a chorus of that familiar New Year's song going, and she smiled, thinking of all that she had done in the time since she'd last heard it.
She had given her son a promise that night, and now, a year later, was quite proud to say she'd done her very best to keep it. It had been difficult, and draining, and the most emotional and heartrending year so far. She had never believed she'd feel everything so acutely, would be so affected by her love for this little person and the things he did.
She'd never really thought of herself as mother material, had never expected that it would come so easily to her, when her own mother was a mere memory. But, surprisingly, it had, and she enjoyed motherhood immensely. And, although it was still early in her son's life, and there was still so much growing and many more difficult years to come, she felt that, so far, she'd done well raising him.
She drained the bottle of champagne into her glass, a reward for the year she'd just lived, all the things she'd sacrificed and all the sleep she'd lost. She drank it as she stood at the window, looking out at this new year in this country that was beginning to feel like home, and idly wondered what James Bond had been doing when the clock struck twelve.
But then, the thought was gone as the bubbly, sweet nectar started to work its way to her brain, dulling her senses and her thoughts.
She placed her empty glass in the sink and checked on both Henry and Christina before slipping off to bed herself, nodding off before her head hit the pillow.