Vesper threw a little birthday party for Henry that weekend, allowing him to demolish a couple of cupcakes and open a few gifts. Christina was the only guest, but more than made up for the absence of any other in her infectious enthusiasm.
It was amazing how quickly time began to pass as she adjusted to this new life as working mother. Christina was rising to the occasion, and had become an absolute godsend to her. The young woman and Henry got along famously during the day, and Christina was imaginative and playful, and had endless patience and enthusiasm.
She still took the weekends off, allowing Vesper some time with her son alone, but the young woman was starting to become like part of the family.
Soon it was summer again, and now with Henry more mobile and able to stay awake longer, Vesper was more inclined to take him out for the day. She and Christina took him to Coney Island a few times, helping him play in the surf, and taking him on some rides and to the concessions.
She took him to the library often, as he was beginning to love books. He loved being read to, his vocabulary growing by the day, and she often spent her evenings and weekends sitting on the sofa reading to him, his little eyes rapt by the pages.
As fall crept in and his eighteenth month of life arrived, he became more dextrous, now able to scribble with a crayon, and hold and throw things quite well. He now had an almost full set of baby teeth, which had come in with almost no complaint from him, and he liked to talk a lot, little mumbles that weren't really words but seemed to hold some meaning to him nonetheless.
His second Christmas was much more eventful than the first, as he was much more aware of everything that was going on. He still found wrapping paper and boxes much more interesting than the actual gifts he received, but she and Christina still had great fun helping him unwrap the books and toys, and seeing the look on his face when shiny new present emerged.
Vesper found that as her son grew, time seemed to speed up. As he became more aware of his world and more active, more in need of attention as he plunged headlong into toddlerhood, there was just so little time to sit and reflect that her life seemed almost to move along at warp speed.
Her job kept her busy enough, with very little downtime and very high demands on her, she spent the majority of the day on the phone or in meetings, directing and managing funds, advising lenders and investors.
And evenings and weekends were filled with reading stories and feeding a very fussy eater, bathing and changing and putting to bed. She took him to swimming lessons, to the park, to the museum and the library, every day another mad adventure for her.
Her son was soon two years old and was become more eloquent by the day, able to point out things and name them, able to hold at least semi-intelligible conversations, and was becoming more and more agile by the day, running and jumping and filling her with anxiety as he climbed anything and everything.
Christina kept up with him fine, the girl still young and sprightly, able to chase the boy around the park for hours while Vesper watched from the sidelines, exhausted by their endless vigour.
Henry's third summer was spent in the park and at the beach. He loved playing at the playground daily, and had integrated into toddler society quite well.
He growing into a handsome boy, with long wispy blond hair that she had to get cut quite often, and eyes that seemed to have gotten bigger and more expressive, and were now the colour of the afternoon sky. His ears stuck out just a little, which she found incredibly endearing, but he didn't much like them, and she suspected that some of his little friends may have made fun of them.
But, he was a joy, and exhausting, but becoming more of a little person and less of a baby each day. She lamented at how quickly he was growing, cried sometimes when she looked at pictures of how small he'd been. But she never despaired for long, because there was a book to be read, or a picture to colour, or food to prepare.
Christina took him out trick-or-treating that Halloween and she smiled at the two-and-a-half-year-old dressed up in his Spiderman costume, picking him up and kissing his head before he began to protest. He had begun to become more boyish in the past few months, becoming more and more obsessed with superheroes and cars and everything that moved.
He could watch the cars go by for hours from the window, and loved big trucks and machinery. Christina often took him to watch construction sites for hours, his little face rapt as he watched the cranes and backhoes and men with jackhammers.
His third Christmas was the most joyful yet, now that he was becoming more and more aware of what was going on around him. She delighted in watching him open his gifts and rip the packages open, playing happily with his toys all day.
Soon he was three years old, and was now becoming rather robust, now forgoing his usual midday nap. He had boundless energy and could run and jump and play for hours. Christina had managed the rather monumental task of toilet-training him, which Vesper was eternally grateful for. He'd had a few accidents, but had mostly dry nights now, and both women were happy to finally be done with changing nappies
His words were becoming more comprehensible and he could focus for longer periods of time, spending hours building towers of blocks or bashing little toy cars into each other.
He liked to talk to himself a lot, which she found rather amusing, and liked to tell her about his day when she got home, about everything he'd seen in rambling, breathless, completely endearing sort of way. He'd tell her about every truck and every bus he'd seen, the things the other children in the park did and said, about the various rodents and birds he'd seen in the park.
M had kept in touch over the years, calling from time to time to inquire about the boy's health and well-being and Vesper's, as well. That summer she called to inform her that there was a place for him in the preschool down the street should she so require it.
Vesper looked over at her thoughtful little boy, colouring a picture determinedly with his crayons, his eyes focussed and bright. He was ready, she knew, but she had to admit she wasn't sure if she was ready to send her son away from everything he'd ever known for a few hours a day.
In the end, the decision was made for her. Christina's mother had finally convinced the girl to start applying to universities the previous year, although Christina had told Vesper she wasn't committing to anything just yet.
But Christina had been keeping a secret from her: she'd been admitted to her first choice, Columbia University, and was set to start taking classes in the fall. She told Vesper one day early in the summer, shame-faced and guilty, shedding a few tears, but Vesper gave her a firm hug and assured her all would be well.
The girl could not put off her future for much longer. She was now twenty-two years old and had more than earned the significant salary Vesper had been paying her. She gave Christina her blessing, and, after many tears and goodbyes, some of them Henry's, the girl ended her tenure with them.
It was difficult, adjusting to this new development, having to walk her son to school each morning and manage to keep things together without Christina's helpful presence. But Henry quickly began to thrive at preschool, as he was quick to learn and had endless focus and creativity, and enjoyed being able to play and talk with friends all day.
Christina continued to visit from time to time, giving them an account of how school was going, usually with Henry perched upon her lap. He missed his first nanny, but Vesper had hired, on M's advice, an older woman to bring the boy home from preschool and care for him for the few hours she remained at work. Her name was Anne and she was a good fit, a friend of Christina's parents. She was in her sixties, and had numerous children and grandchildren of her own, asked few questions and was patient and good-natured.
It was amazing how quickly time went by as her son adjusted to life as a student, and, as his fourth birthday loomed, how quickly he was becoming a little person. He was maturing, blossoming amongst his peers, as he was very social and well-liked.
As spring bloomed, he threw off the last vestiges of toddlerhood, now, physically and socially, and even emotionally most of the time, a child. Vesper found that she liked this stage of her son's development the most.
He was becoming very eloquent and well-mannered, was able to carry on conversations now, was inquisitive (sometimes to a fault), and had lost some of the impulsivity of toddlerhood. She was teaching him to read, and he was patient and focussed as he sounded out the words, his little finger following along the page.
He heard everything, listened even when it seemed like he wasn't, and even Vesper found herself mindful of what she said around him. He was often asking her about adult conversations he'd overheard, or things other children had said to each other. She tried to address his questions as objectively as she could, doing her best to treat him like the little man he was growing into.
As summer loomed, he became easier to take along, could walk for longer periods of time. He got more out of their visits to educational places than he had in the past, pointing and inquiring about various museum exhibits, sometimes mesmerised by a painting in an art gallery. She knew he was still too young to truly understand a lot of it, but she wanted him to begin to be curious about those areas of culture nonetheless.
Christina was taking the summer off from classes, and, much to Vesper's relief, had agreed to watch Henry during the day while she was at work. This was a stroke of luck for Vesper, as Anne's own grandchildren had been unceremoniously dropped off with her for the summer.
So her son and his nanny got reacquainted, Henry telling her about his first year at preschool, and all the friends he'd made, and Christina regaling them with some of the tamer stories of her freshman year at Columbia.
The group of three spent many a weekend enjoying all the city had to offer; beaches, parks, cinemas and theatres. With Henry was now a strong swimmer, they spent hours on the seashore, building sandcastles and splashing in the surf.
Autumn came quicker than she would have hoped, and her son and Christina were soon back at their respective schools, with Anne free of her three young grandchildren and back caring for Henry for those few hours each day.
Time went on, her son becoming more and more gorgeous by the day, more and more a little gentleman and her little pal. He often had friends come over to play, and was becoming more social. He'd learned to read quite quickly and was now devouring books, demanding that she read him at least three each night before bed.
He'd grown out of his cot long ago and now had his own bed. His toys were all stowed away at the end of every day in various totes and boxes she'd purchased for him. She wanted him to become more organised, to have respect for his own space and his belongings.
That Christmas she helped him make a list for Santa Claus. As she shopped she tried very hard not to spoil him, buying only what he'd asked for, though she'd been tempted to buy countless other things.
She fought back the urge to buy his love with gifts, as she'd seen so many other parents in the stores trying to do. It was tempting, as that look on his face when he got something he really had wanted was unbelievably infectious, and she wanted so very much for him to be happy.
But she also wanted to teach him about the value of money. With her ample salary she'd been able to start a savings account for him long ago, and spent a lot of time teaching him that material goods were not terribly important, and trying to disabuse him of his school friends' assertions that having the latest and most expensive toy was what he should strive for.
Twenty-twelve arrived quickly, and Vesper could only marvel at how quickly time had gone by. Was she not just changing his nappies, nursing him? And now he was able to read and almost write, and could carry on a nearly adult conversation? She shook her head. It was difficult to believe.
And all in all, she'd come to love this city, and her son adored it as well. It was relatively safe, their flat was fairly quiet, they were close enough to the park that he could go there and run and play like a child should. There were endless attractions and sights to see, and she had come to enjoy the hustle and bustle and quick pace. She adored New York City, had come to love it like she'd loved London.
But then everything changed.