Page 70 of Please Open Me
“Mhm. Rosie’s not feeling great and—” she gestured around. “Chaos and grumpy babies don’t mix. Could you bring her some water?”
I shook my head. Her face fell.
“She likes green tea,” I said. “I brought some. It was on the way here.”
A lie. The store was out of the way, but worth it if it made Mason smile.
The woman smiled back, and I took it as my sign to go.
I crept downstairs. The chaos faded into soft lullabies and lavender. Light from the TV painted the room in oceanic purples.
At first, I didn’t see her. Then I spotted Mason curled on the sectional under a plush blanket, a hoodie pulled up just enough to reveal a bare breast.
And there she was.
Rosie.
I’d seen pictures. Heard stories. But I’d never met her. Mason didn’t wantjust anyonein her life. I hated that those words might've applied to me.
“Hey,” I whispered.
She startled, then looked up, her lips parting just enough to reveal the gap in her teeth.
“Fuck—I never texted you back, did I?”
I grinned. “Better be careful. They’re really serious about the swear jar up there.”
She laughed, rubbing her face. “It’s just for Lucian. Sophia thinks he swears too much and, well—” She shrugged, then patted the couch beside her.
Sophia. Lucian. Names I’d heard, but hadn’t cared about until now. Maybe it’d be easier to remember them now that I had faces to put with the names.
“Can I sit?” I whispered.
Mason nodded, knocking baby gear off the cushion next to her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m gross right now.”
Anyone else, I’d be annoyed. From her?
Didn’t bother me at all.
I sat beside her, doing the best to ignore the baby in her arms. Except, I couldn’t.
Her little hands gripped Mason’s breast, her chubby cheeks flushed.
“She’s beautiful,” I said.
Mason looked down at her daughter like she was holding the sun.
“That’s how she cons people into never sleeping again,” she whispered, gently sliding Rosie off her. “Do you want to hold her?”
Myheart skipped.
“Can I?”
She nodded.
I opened my arms, and she placed Rosie against me with a mother’s practiced ease. The baby was heavier than I expected. Soft. Alive. I suppressed the urge to kiss her forehead.
