#questionseries

“Tew us mommy!” Jason tries again, but mommy won’t give in. All she does is zip her lips with the invisible key which only makes me and Jason more anxious.

Finally I hear the garage door opening and see dad walking in with two bags that look like presents. Me and Jason can’t wait any longer so we run over and jump on him. Dad gives us a bear hug, his hugs are the best. “Go sit down next to mom and you’ll get your surprise.” He instructs us and we do as were told.

We tare open the two green gift bags and each pull out a red t-shirt. “Big Brother 1,” I read and look at them confused. “I’m already a big brother though?”

“Help Jason read his.” Mommy tells me.

He’s holding it upside down and I roll my eyes because three year olds are so dumb sometimes. I’m almost six which means I’m a lot smarter than my little bother. “Big Brother 2.” Now I’m really confused. “But Jason’s the little brother.”

“Not anymore. Theres a baby in mommy’s tummy. You guys are gonna have another brother.” Dad smiles and kisses the side of mommy’s head like he always does. Mommy’s smiling too, even bigger than dad’s smile if that’s possible.

“Another Brother! This is awesome!”  Jason looks at me confused so I speak in three year old words so he can understand. “Jason this means we can finally play Batman vs Superman vs Hulk!”

“Another budda!” He joins in with me and we jump on mommy and daddy. “We get moe toys?” Dad starts laughing out the word yes and both mom and dad start to sing along with the ‘Another Brother Song’ we just created and tickle and kiss us.

Dad’s working tonight which means mommy is tucking us in. She comes to my room second because I don’t need as much help getting to bed. She pulls my covers over me, and I’m hoping what she does next is our routine kiss. A kiss on each cheek, then nose, then forehead. But she doesn’t, just one kiss on the top of my head. “Goodnight buddy,” she says after she kisses me, then leaves the door cracked like she always does.

I count to 100 in my head because I know that means she’s back in Ollie’s room by now. I hop down from my bed, grab two book options and sneak out of my room and down the hall. I tip toe past Ollie’s room and sneak into Jason’s that’s right across from it. Jason can’t fall asleep without a story, so until mommy isn’t sad anymore I’ve been reading him bedtime stories.

I climb onto his bed, it’s made for one person but we’re both small enough to fit. I tap him on the shoulder and he rolls over to face me. I think he was crying because even in the dark I can see his eyes are a little red. “Do you want me to read Goodnight Moon or Ten Minutes Till Bedtime?”

“Goodnight Moon.”

I knew he would pick that one, it’s his favorite. I turn on my book light and start reading the first page, second page, third page, then Jason stops me. “Danny?”

“Yeah Jace?”

“When mommy not gonna be sad anymoe?”

“He’s not crying. Why isn’t he crying?” She yells as tears fall down her cheeks one by one, and the nervous pit of being a father again turns into a pit of fear.

I hear the doctors mumbling to one another, but I’m not there. My mind is elsewhere. Back to the room we spent hours decorating with Danny and Jason. Back to the days we argued over names and didn’t speak from breakfast to dinner until I finally gave into her stubbornness and apologized for being an ass. Back to the moment we told our boys they would have a new brother and the first question was “Does that mean we get more toys to play with?” And the minutes the word ‘yes’ left my mouth they started telling us all of the things they would teach him.

I watch from the kitchen as Danny whispers to Jason and soft, mischievous, giggles escape both of their lips. Jason’s hand gently pokes the end of the lego tower and pretty soon our tan carpet is consumed by the rainbow of red, blue, green, and yellows blocks scattered across the floor. They look toward their mother, waiting for her to do her usual laugh, and then tell them to clean it up before someone hurts their foot on the tiny blocks, but instead they get nothing.

Danny scrunches his eyebrows and slowly walks over to his mother who is still staring at the blank television still. “Mom, didn’t you see our tower fall,” he questions softly. I can tell he’s longing for her attention just by the desperation in his voice, but she doesn’t notice.

All she gives him is if a painful smile, “Make sure you clean them all up when your done.” She ruffles his hair, slowly stands up from the couch, and exits down the hallway. And all I do is watch as my six year old hangs his head and joins his little brother back on the floor.

I know what room she’s in, and I stand outside of the door watching as she hovers over the cherry wood crib that belonged to both of our boys at one point, and again know what she’s thinking about.

The morgue of the hospital is cold and dark. It’s not a part of the hospital I tend to visit often, but today I have to. Our son lays on the cold metal table, wrapped in a blue blanket. His eyes are the size of a small grape and the hair on his head is much darker than Danny’s and Jason’s when they were born. I know he would’ve had Amelia’s dark hair.

She’s standing in front of me, her petite frame shaking uncontrollably as she approaches the minuscule body laying in front of us. Her skin is paler than normal and I know its because she fells like she wants to die right now. I feel the same way, but I know I have to be strong for the both of us.

She places her hands on the metal table in front of her, her shaking only getting worse as she leans forward and places a kiss on the inch of forehead that is our sons. I’m about to hug her, an attempt to take her pain away, to let her know I’m here to fall a part with her. My body moves closer to hers and as soon as my hands reach her shoulders, a sound I will never forget screams out of her. Her hands remain on the table next to our son, while her body falls to a squat below it. Her cry reminds me of the sound someone makes when they’re shot, because to her she just has been.

I don’t go in the room, instead I decided our sons need me right now. I join them on the floor and begin to stack lego after lego. I continue doing so until I feel two sets of eyes staring at me. I gaze up, my face questioning why they’re staring when my six year old answers for the both of them. “When will mommy get better?”

His frustration had definitely gotten the best of him because as soon as his hand left his hair his eyes pealed away from the papers in front of him and found mine. “Are you staring at me?” He smirked, proud that he had caught me mesmerized by whatever it was he was doing.

“Maybe.” I smile back and place the now dry pot on the counter and pick up another dish as he looks back down at his papers.

I continue my task of drying, but when I place the next dish on the counter my line of vision is now in front of the chair two down from Owen where my five year old is engaged in his beginner reading book. I notice his eyebrows furrow together, a clear indication that he’s getting frustrated. I watch as he tries to work it out on his own. That’s when I notice it. His hands slowly curl into fists, the pale tone of his skin vanishing and being replaced with light pink. He releases his grip on the air and his hand finds its way to his head just like his fathers had moments before. His hand runs through his thick blonde waves, gripping onto to them briefly.

As his hand makes it’s way back to the pages of his book he glances up at me with a defeated look. I offer him a smile of encouragement, nodding my head only to receive an understanding nod back. He begins reading again and before I know it the page is being flipped.

“Thinking.” She replies softly, still not making eye contact with me.

“About…” I prompt her into answering, expecting a long list of things that have her mind on a short leash, but get the answer I’m not expecting this time.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” She looked up at me and for the first time I see the exhaustion that has consumed her between her twelve hour shift and taking care of our boys. She lets her head collapse back onto our king sized bed, the few pieces that escaped her ponytail falling around her face when she lets out a relieving laugh, “I have had the most problematic day and for the first time in twelve hours I can actually think about and do nothing.”

I place a soft kiss on her forehead, her eyes are closed by I can tell she needed it from the growing smile on her face. I leave her to unwind, knowing that within ten minutes she’ll be up and running the house like she always does. I decide to get my boys and start their typical afternoon routine. Stepping into Danny’s bedroom I find two little bodies laying the exact same way I had just left my wife. Both sets of blonde hair on the bed just below the green throw pillows, one set of feet slightly further down the bed than the other. “What are you two doing?”

I’m slightly confused why my typically rambunctious children aren’t destroying everything in their paths, when my five year old looks up at me and says, “Me and Jason had a long day daddy,” then falls back onto the bed indicating how exhausting kindergarten and daycare can apparently be.

I step closer to bed, my shadow covering them completely when my three year old who appears to be asleep finally opens his eyes, “Weally long day daddy.”  

I ran my hand that was once wrapped around her through her messy head of hair, my fingers getting caught in the knots I had played a hand in putting there only moments ago. Her eyes did this thing where they narrowed downward while she slowly began to smile as if she already knew what my answer would be. As her skin sank into itself creating the dimples that sucked me in every time she smiled I couldn’t help but smile back. “Your smile.”

“Don’t be a sap.” She joked as she rolled off my chest and faced me, holding herself up on her elbow. “Why are you really smiling like that?”

“I answered you already.”

“Liar.” She teased, that’s when I noticed she was playing her game. Her game she played when she didn’t want to admit she was trying to flirt with you, the game she played when she wanted you to know she was secretly like every other person that liked getting told why someone loved them without her actually having to ask.

I let her win her own game because I love her, and that’s what you do when you love someone. “Your smile is why I’m smiling.” I say softly and seriously indicating that I’m not trying to be flirty anymore. Letting her know that her smile is one of the thousands of reasons why I love her by simply letting our eyes meet. And just as I’m leaning in to seal this silent declaration of love I just proclaimed to her, I notice the blonde hair, blue eyed five year old standing in our door way.

Rubbing his eyes with his tiny fist, he lets out a giant yawn before asking, “Can I sleep in here?” shooting me a smile that mirrors the exact one I fell in love with on his mom and I can’t say no. Amelia pats the middle of the bed and as if he’s not tired anymore, Danny runs into our room, jumps on the bed and claims his spot in between us. Next thing I know, Jason is standing in our doorway and just like his older brother and mother he shoots me that smile and that’s all that needs to be done. He takes his rightful spot between his mom and brother, closes his eyes and falls asleep.