Page 132 of The Only Thing That's Real
He sits on the edge of the couch, rubbing his hands over his hair.
“Does it feel weird?”
“You could say that.”
“It looks great, but you won’t offend me if you find a barber to clean it up,” I kid, but he really should seek professional help to give it some style.
“That’s probably a good idea.” He laughs.
Sitting next to him, I place the box and my laptop on the table in front of us. Cupping his cheek with one hand, I touch my lips to his temple. “Open your present, baby.”
He rips off the bow and pops the top off the box, revealing the baby book inside.
Chewing on my lower lip, I wait for him to say something, but he’s quiet as he stares at the book like he’s scared to touch it or see what else is in the box.
I step in. “So, Mia and I were talking when she came to pick Sawyer up the other morning. I asked if she had any pictures, she’d be willing to give up. It turns out she’s been saving these things for you. As she made Sawyer’s baby book, she created an identical one for you. From her first ultrasound to his first tooth, she’s been keeping track of everything. I think deep down she knew she would tell you at some point.”
His hands raise to rake through his hair that isn’t there, but when he realizes what he’s doing, he exhales. His eyes turn glossy.
“You okay?”
“I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“Well, Mia did all the work. I’m the lucky one who gets to give it to you.” Reaching into the box, I pull out atiny striped hat, laying it on his thigh. “Let’s start with this.”
“Shit, this is his hat from the hospital, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Mia, saved this for me?”
“She did.” Next, I hand him a pair of small Air Jordans. “And these.”
“Holy shit, Ry. They’re tiny.”
While he marvels at the shoes, I bring the baby book out. “You ready?”
He pushes out a breath, carefully putting the shoes on the table as though they might break. “Let’s do it.”
For the next twenty minutes, we read every note and measurement. We ooh and awe at the pictures chronically his baby boy’s life.
He closes the book. “He’s fucking perfect.”
“He’s pretty dang cute.”
“I can’t believe Mia did this for me.”
“As her friend, it’s not surprising at all.”
He’s quiet, sitting with his thoughts. I lean back and let him sort through his emotions. He peers into the box and removes a few more items, but when he gets to an infant sized Hollow Knocks T-shirt, his mouth falls open before he beams with glee to know his little man had adorned his shirt.
“Ready for more?” I tease.
“There’s more?”
I open my laptop and insert the thumb drive Mia gave me, sliding it in front of him. “Hit play when you’re ready.”
Reluctantly, he presses the button, leaning forward in anticipation. It’s hard to keep my eyes on the screen and not on his face as he goes through a rollercoaster of emotions. Hiscomposure breaks at the recording of Mia playing one of Hollow Knock’s love songs to Sawyer in her belly, again during his birth, his first smile, and first steps.
