Page 53 of Beautiful Small Things

Marcus was right. I needed to see that picture. Today has been ridiculous. The flooring and the mirrors have been installed, but we are having problems with the plumbing in the small kitchen area and restroom. The city will not permit me to open until the plumbing issue is fixed.

I called the guy who was working on it last week but surprise! He’s in Hawaii this week. So I spent the morning calling around until I could find someone to come out at 3 pm. He said some shit about improper slopes, charged me $350, and told me he’d be back tomorrow.

I have nothing to do, and deep, anxious energy is coursing through my body, so I play soft music through the speakers and move my neck from side to side. I haven’t danced in weeks, and I can feel it with the tightness in my ligaments and the stiffness of my muscles.

I close my eyes and begin to sway back and forth to the music, lengthening my limbs by reaching my fingertips over my head and standing on my toes simultaneously.

As the music picks up pace, my movements become larger, faster, and more intentional. I’m dancing purely on instinct, for the love of the movement itself. It’s what I’ve always loved about dancing and probably why I never made it as a professional dancer.

I wasn’t willing to take something I loved so much and twist it into something I’d hate to make a living at it. I was also very much in love with Marcus and his baby daughter, and being away from him was intolerable. It still is.

As I dance, I allow my mind to wander back to when Iris was born. It was such a crazy situation to find myself in. I still marvel at how everything unfolded.

James - Age 23

This entire situation is completely surreal. One minute I’m spending time with my sister and her husband, and the next, I’m standing in Marcus’s kitchen, staring at a beautiful baby in her car seat while the three of them understandably panic.

I haven’t seen Marcus since the wedding. Since the night I gave in to every desire I’ve ever had about him. I should feel uncomfortable and awkward, but the focus isn’t on me now. It’s on this baby.

I don’t know what leads me to go to her and pick her up. Maybe it’s the escalation of her soft mewls to more frantic cries. Perhaps it’s knowing I can safely hold this part of Marcus close to my heart. Before I know it, she’s in my arms and relaxing. I instinctively rock back and forth and say “ssh” into her fine baby hair. All I know is that I feel an instant bond with this child.

Callan and Colby stand in stunned silence and try to tamp down the panic when Marcus enters the room and announces that he is her father. I find that I’m not surprised. I’ve always known Marcus can be reckless. But so can I, and right now, he needs our support more than ever.

Colby and Callan offer to get formula and diapers while I stay behind with him and the baby. I’m still standing there rocking her when he sits in a chair, drops his head into his hands, and whispers, “This is a blessing, right? I know it’s a blessing. But what am I going to do?”

He’s talking more to himself than me, so I stay quiet and allow him to work over his thoughts in his head. He mumbles for a minute in the midst of his existential crisis and finally looks up and meets my eyes.

“James,” he says softly, looking up to meet my eyes, “How am I going to do this?”

Taking a breath, I decide it’s a good time to be honest with him about what I truly think of him. He needs to hear it, even if it makes me feel vulnerable.

“Marcus, you are smart, capable, and more adaptive than just about anyone I know. You are going to do great.”

He looks straight ahead, his face void of emotion, as he takes in my words. I’m not sure he believes me. So I add, “This baby is going to have an amazing life with you. And your life is not over, despite what you may be thinking now. You will still accomplish all of the things you’ve always dreamed of. But now, you will have a partner in crime.”

This makes him glance up again and offer a half smile. He looks confused and exhausted, but at this moment, there is a glint of excitement in his eyes. He stands and slowly walks over to us. As he gets near, I hold the baby out to him in my arms while supporting her neck and head. He gracefully scoops her up and pulls her to his chest, cradling her in his large, strong arms.

Looking down at his child, he whispers quietly, “We can do this, right? We can figure this out.” My heart splits watching him interact with her. He already exhibits a father’s unconditional love, and he’s only been one for less than an hour.

“What’s your name, huh?” he whispers gently into her fine white hair. She yawns and opens her eyes, looking at him. I’m aware that infants this young can’t see well, and there’s no way she can possibly recognize his voice, given that she’s never heard it. Yet, I’m watching this with my own eyes and know what I see. This tiny newborn knows her father. She knows this man will go to the ends of the Earth for her until the day he dies.

“I need to give her a name,” he says to me.

“You have time,” I reply, stroking her soft cheek.

“It has to be something completely badass,” Marcus says in complete seriousness.

“She’s not a Rottweiler, Marcus,” I laugh. “Her name should fit her.”

“She’s a complete badass. Just look at her,” he says, holding the baby tightly to his chest. “Her name will fit her.”

“She’s three days old. How do you know how she’s going to be.”

“A father knows,” he says smugly.

“Of course,” I snicker. “So what names are you thinking?”

“Her eyes are going to be violet.”