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It’s late morning when they approach the house, a tidy suburban structure not unlike her own ten minutes down the road. There are bushes she knows they didn’t plant and a hanging basket of petunias that maybe they did put up and a hole in the ground where the ‘for sale’ sign had been until not long ago.
She has no idea if they actually bought it. Knowing Rebecca, they might have.
Michelle Keller wipes her hands on her pants, because meeting your ex’s new daughter isn’t something they prepare you for in the divorcee’s club.
No, really. She’s in one. They don’t cover this.
She looks back at her son and sighs inwardly. She’d fussed until he’d put on something more than a scraggly old pair of jeans and a band shirt, but he’s already managed to half work the crease out of his chinos and it looks like the button down hasn’t been ironed at all.
Michelle isn’t sure if her nervous energy is contagious or his is, but it feels like they’re walking a live wire as they climb the three stairs onto the porch. She shuffles the casserole dishes to one arm and hands the pink gift bag to Henry so she can knock lightly on the door. She’s barely stepped back before there’s a shadow beyond the sheer curtain, and the door opens to reveal a smiling Ted.
“Hey, Dad!” She whispers, “Is she sleeping?”
Her ex-husband steps back to allow them in. “Nope, you’re just in time,” he answers at normal volume. “Just finished her bottle.”
Michelle knows her eyes light up. A baby is a baby after all, and newborns are particularly delicious. Still, she remembers what it was like.
“Where’s the kitchen? We brought food.”
Henry shuts the door behind them and toes his shoes off. “I’ll take ‘em, Mom.”
Rebecca appears from around the corner, impossibly small body against her shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Ted laughs quietly, and she scoffs as she hands three foil casserole dishes to her son, who disappears into the house without making eye contact (Curious, she thinks). “This is the midwest, Rebecca. My mother would return from the grave to shoot me personally if I showed up to see a new baby and didn’t bring provisions.”
Rebecca looks from her to Ted and smiles, clearly not sure whether they’re joking or not (they’re definitely not) and nods toward what must be the front room. “Come on in, have a seat.”
The three make their way into a large living room with an arch along the front wall lined with nearly ceiling to floor windows. The house is obviously pre-furnished, everything Just So like a staged house. And yet there are pieces of a home peeking through. A throw across the back of the couch, a wheeled cart with baby supplies, an expensive looking bassinet. The remote is thrown on the chair next to the TV and she knows that’s Ted’s fault, he used to drive her crazy with that habit. There’s a mostly-drunk formula bottle on the coffee table and a change pad folded next to it.
“Have a seat, Michelle, can I get you anything?” Ever the host, Ted gestures toward the kitchen that seems to have swallowed their son whole.
“All I want,” she admits, taking a seat next to Rebecca, “Is to see that delectable baby of yours.”
The smile spreads across Rebecca’s face like sunshine. “Of course,” she says, gently transferring the kinked up little body into Michelle’s waiting arms.
“Oh, she’s just precious,” she coos, eyes raking over the reddish gold peach fuzz on the baby’s head, her pouty lower lip, the delicately veined eyelids that slowly open to reveal deep blue eyes she remembers from when Henry was new. A little leg kicks out before being drawn up to her belly, as if she hasn’t gotten used to the concept of having more space than the womb allowed.
She looks up at Rebecca, eyes shining, and then at Ted, who’s looking a little lost, and back at Rebecca. “What are you calling her?”
Rebecca brushes a finger over the bare little foot poking out from a pale yellow dress. “Georgia. Georgia Rose Lasso.”
Michelle can feel herself melting. “That is a gorgeous name. Classic, but sweet.” She looks down at the baby again, whose eyes are roaming her face (or would be, if she could see that far), and she gives a half smile before passing gas so forcefully Michelle can feel it through the diaper.
Ted puts his head in his hands, Rebecca looks a little mortified, but Michelle just laughs.
“Better out than in. Henry was the gassiest baby in existence, remember Ted? Except he didn’t, uh, release his so easily.”
The three chuckle, and Ted suddenly looks around, frowning. “Where’s Henry?”
Michelle frowns as well. It wasn’t like Hen to be so, well, rude. “I’ll go-“ she begins, but Ted waves her off.
“No, you have mama talk with Rebecca, I know you’re dying to get all the details. I’ll see where he’s scampered off to.”
Her eyes followed him out of the room before shrugging slightly and turning to her ex-husband’s new wife- what a strange relationship to have. There had to be a better term for it, they were family after all. But Ted was right, she wanted all the details of the birth and their first days together.
-
Ted returns just as Rebecca is getting to the part where the baby was handed off to her, and she catches Henry out of the corner of her eye. He looks sullen, and she frowns.
“Hey, Hen, wanna hold the baby?” She offers, not wanting to hog baby time as much as she was delighting in the smell of newborn.
Henry shakes his head, but stays silent.
Michelle looks to Ted, who has a similar expression on his face. “Are you sure? There’s only gonna be a first time you meet your little sister.”
“I DON’T WANT TO HOLD THE STUPID BABY, OKAY?” He shouts suddenly, turning tail and running back through the kitchen. The door slams so hard the staged-pictures rattle against the walls.
The baby instantly startles and begins whimpering as the three adults look at each other in shock.
“Maybe it’s too soon?” Rebecca ventures after a moment, taking the baby back from Michelle and offering her a soother.
Ted shakes his head. “I shoulda read the room better. Shouldn’t’a pushed when he didn’t want to.”
It was Michelle’s turn to shake her head. “He’s had a weird vibe for a while, I just didn’t think-“
“I’ll go talk to him,” Ted sighs.
“No,” Michelle says firmly, rising from her seat. “This one’s mine. You guys are tired and hormonal, you’d let him get away with anything. That was absolutely unacceptable. I’ll figure it out.”
She follows her son’s route towards what she assumes is the kitchen, patting Ted’s arm on the way out of the living room. “Take care of them, okay?”
Ted nods shortly, murmuring his thanks in a hushed tone.
She finds him sitting on the back porch, head in his hands. Lowering herself down next to him, she just sits for a moment, collecting her thoughts. As much as she wanted to lay into him, she knows her son. He doesn’t do this, it’s not his style. He's quiet and thoughtful and yeah he's 13 but this isn't him.
“Are they mad?” Henry asks at last.
“Mm, no, not mad,” she says, surveying the back yard. It’s got a tree swing. Of course it does. She turns to her son. “More like hurt and sad.”
He grunts. “That’s worse.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I didn’t mean to yell,” he mutters, and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just… a lot.”
“What’s this really all about, Hen? You were so excited for this baby and then it felt like a switch flipped. You’ve been avoiding literally everything about her for weeks.”
Her little man-boy looks at his shoes. “Do you know how many parents change their mind? About giving up the baby I mean.”
Ah. There it was.
“Not exactly, but I bet it’s a lot.”
He gently kicked a caterpillar off the step. “I don’t wanna get attached and then have her go away. An’ I don’t want Dad and Rebecca to have to worry about me an’ my feelings if that happens.”
Michelle sighs and leans against her son. “Henry, buddy, you have the blessing of three loving parents. We’re always, always gonna worry about you. And I think you’ll find that two of your parents are currently worried about you rejecting that baby in there. I get you wanna protect your heart, and maybe theirs, but that’s not what family is about. It’s about going through life leaning on each other when things get hard.”
Henry hangs his head as she pats his knee.
“And it’s also about being there when the times are good. Whatever happens, it’s three musketeers territory, okay?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He hesitates, then looks up at her. It isn’t as far a distance as it used to be. “Do you think it’s too late? For a do-over, I mean?”
Michelle groans lightly as she stands and offers a hand to her son. “I think it’s the perfect time for a do-over.”
-
When Henry crosses the threshold to the living room, Michelle hangs back a little, propping herself against the door frame. Rebecca is holding the baby in the crook of her arm, and Ted sits next to her with his arm draped around her shoulder.
“I’m sorry I was a dick,” her son says without preamble.
Michelle put her head in her hand. “Henry…”
He turns back toward her. “Well I was!”
Rebecca laughs, and the tension in the room is broken. “You were a bit of an arse,” she agrees.
Henry picks at a cuticle. “I’ve just, I’ve been afraid that things won’t turn out. And then you guys would have to worry about me an’ what I’m feelin’ when you should worry about each other.”
Ted and Rebecca exchange a glance, and Michelle wonders how much of this they may have guessed.
Ted removes his hand from around Rebecca and lets his arms hang between his knees. “We're your parents, Hen, we're gonna worry about you no matter what.”
Henry groans. “That’s what Mom said.”
Rebecca shifts the baby in her arms. “No one can tell you how to be a brother, Henry. None of us have siblings. And none of us have been in this situation before. But we'll get through whatever happens together.”
“Mom said that, too. Well, the part about doing it together.”
Rebecca smiles at Michelle. “Your mother is a wise woman.”
“I think,” Henry starts, smoothing out his wrinkled pants, “I think I’d like to hold my sister now.”
Michelle can see the tension leave Ted’s shoulders. “C’mon, then, let’s get you set up.”
Ted shuffles over and grabs the nursing pillow from next to the couch, tucking it against their son who looks as awkward as a thirteen year old with a nursing pillow should. But then Rebecca is putting the baby in his arms and Henry releases a heavy breath.
“She’s so small.”
“They do start out that way,” Rebecca teases, and the boy smiles as he inspects the infant.
“She’s got hair like me,” he notes, sounding pleased.
“Mm-hm, definitely a bit of the ginge in this one. You make a handsome pair.”
Ted is snapping pictures with his phone while Henry and Rebecca pore over Georgia, cataloguing everything- the stork bite on her forehead, her little fingernails, the pout of her lips. Suddenly Henry looks towards his mother.
“Mom, can you take a picture of all of us?”
“Absolutely! C’mon, Dad, get in on the action. This’ll be one for the mantle.”
Michelle clicks through a few candids and two or three posed pictures before Rebecca holds out her hand.
“Wait, wait, something’s missing.” She glances at Ted, who nods. “Does your phone have a delay setting for pictures?”
Michelle tilts her head, curious. “Yes? I’m pretty sure it does.”
Ted grins. “Then get on in here. It's time for a family picture.”