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Authors: Kelly Loy Gilbert
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Stoddard-Huff to Raynor and to change my middle
name so I shared it with him and to add him as my father. To sit in the back of the car with me, my dad had to shovel pillows and clothing into the passenger seat and squeeze himself between her
bags of stuff.
These are all the things he told me about her: she was from Turlock. She had brown hair and brown eyes, like mine. (His and Trey’s are blue.) She drove over the speed limit carelessly,
changed lanes without checking her blind spot. Once she ran a red light. And there was something otherworldly about her, like she was always about to smile at a secret no one else knew, like she
wasn’t completely in the moment with you because she was somewhere else, somewhere better. He didn’t like that—he thought it meant she felt like she was better than everyone
else—but I did.
She was twenty, which was eight years older than Trey. My dad was thirty-eight.
In the courthouse, my dad held me in his arms for the first time. He was nervous, because when Trey was a baby, Elaine had done most of the work. On the way back home I cried, and Aureliana took
a hand off the wheel and reached into her purse, fishing around until something crinkled, then she tossed it to my dad.
“Here,” she said. “Give him this.”
It was a Ring Pop, raspberry-flavored, and my dad said, “The hell is this?”
“He likes those better than the pacifiers. You can get them cheapest at Smart and Final, if you have one near you.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Even I know you don’t give babies candy. What kind of mother are you? You’re going to rot his teeth.”
“Teeth?” She laughed. “Mart, get real. He’s four
months
. He doesn’t have
teeth
.” Then she added, “The watermelon ones are his favorite.
But in the big bags you don’t get to pick the flavors.”
He was horrified, then furious. And he was going to tell her off, but then he looked at her one more time in the rearview mirror and she was young enough to be his kid, really, and anyway she
was obviously a terrible mother if she was leaving her baby with
him
, so he said nothing. Instead, he offered his fingertip to me and, miraculously, I stopped crying.
He smiled. He leaned down and whispered, “Hey, little guy.” He cupped his hand over my tiny head and stroked it with his thumb. “How about it, buddy? Huh? You want to come and
live with me?”
Back at home, Aureliana gathered her hair into a ponytail. “Well,” she said, “I gave you the bag with all his clothes and diaper stuff, and here’s the car seat,
so…” She glanced at her watch. She was already in LA in her mind—he could see that. “I guess that’s everything. So good luck. He’s not the best baby. He cries a
lot.”
It was just before dark when Trey got home that day, and my dad met him at the door and grabbed his arm. He’d been waiting two hours for Trey to come home. “Did you forget you were
grounded?”
Trey said, shortly, “No.”
“Then you better have a damn good—” My dad stopped, changed his mind. “Well, it’s your lucky day, because I’m letting you off the hook. Come upstairs with me.
I want to show you something.”
Trey yanked his arm away. “I’ve got homework.”
“I have a surprise for you.”
“I don’t care. Leave me alone.”
My dad closed his eyes. “Trey. Come upstairs with me and see the surprise, or keep this up and we’ll do it the hard way. Your pick.”
Trey muttered, “Fine.” He followed my dad upstairs. And in my dad’s room, lying in the middle of the bed, was a baby. (Obviously: me.)
Trey blinked, jerked his head back. “What is
that
?”
“That’s Braden. Your new brother.”
“My
what
?”
“Well, half brother. But don’t you dare call him that ever, because that
half
doesn’t matter.” Then he added, because he hadn’t exactly practiced what he was
going to tell Trey: “He’s a baby.”
“No shit.” Trey took a step forward, looking shell-shocked.
name so I shared it with him and to add him as my father. To sit in the back of the car with me, my dad had to shovel pillows and clothing into the passenger seat and squeeze himself between her
bags of stuff.
These are all the things he told me about her: she was from Turlock. She had brown hair and brown eyes, like mine. (His and Trey’s are blue.) She drove over the speed limit carelessly,
changed lanes without checking her blind spot. Once she ran a red light. And there was something otherworldly about her, like she was always about to smile at a secret no one else knew, like she
wasn’t completely in the moment with you because she was somewhere else, somewhere better. He didn’t like that—he thought it meant she felt like she was better than everyone
else—but I did.
She was twenty, which was eight years older than Trey. My dad was thirty-eight.
In the courthouse, my dad held me in his arms for the first time. He was nervous, because when Trey was a baby, Elaine had done most of the work. On the way back home I cried, and Aureliana took
a hand off the wheel and reached into her purse, fishing around until something crinkled, then she tossed it to my dad.
“Here,” she said. “Give him this.”
It was a Ring Pop, raspberry-flavored, and my dad said, “The hell is this?”
“He likes those better than the pacifiers. You can get them cheapest at Smart and Final, if you have one near you.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Even I know you don’t give babies candy. What kind of mother are you? You’re going to rot his teeth.”
“Teeth?” She laughed. “Mart, get real. He’s four
months
. He doesn’t have
teeth
.” Then she added, “The watermelon ones are his favorite.
But in the big bags you don’t get to pick the flavors.”
He was horrified, then furious. And he was going to tell her off, but then he looked at her one more time in the rearview mirror and she was young enough to be his kid, really, and anyway she
was obviously a terrible mother if she was leaving her baby with
him
, so he said nothing. Instead, he offered his fingertip to me and, miraculously, I stopped crying.
He smiled. He leaned down and whispered, “Hey, little guy.” He cupped his hand over my tiny head and stroked it with his thumb. “How about it, buddy? Huh? You want to come and
live with me?”
Back at home, Aureliana gathered her hair into a ponytail. “Well,” she said, “I gave you the bag with all his clothes and diaper stuff, and here’s the car seat,
so…” She glanced at her watch. She was already in LA in her mind—he could see that. “I guess that’s everything. So good luck. He’s not the best baby. He cries a
lot.”
It was just before dark when Trey got home that day, and my dad met him at the door and grabbed his arm. He’d been waiting two hours for Trey to come home. “Did you forget you were
grounded?”
Trey said, shortly, “No.”
“Then you better have a damn good—” My dad stopped, changed his mind. “Well, it’s your lucky day, because I’m letting you off the hook. Come upstairs with me.
I want to show you something.”
Trey yanked his arm away. “I’ve got homework.”
“I have a surprise for you.”
“I don’t care. Leave me alone.”
My dad closed his eyes. “Trey. Come upstairs with me and see the surprise, or keep this up and we’ll do it the hard way. Your pick.”
Trey muttered, “Fine.” He followed my dad upstairs. And in my dad’s room, lying in the middle of the bed, was a baby. (Obviously: me.)
Trey blinked, jerked his head back. “What is
that
?”
“That’s Braden. Your new brother.”
“My
what
?”
“Well, half brother. But don’t you dare call him that ever, because that
half
doesn’t matter.” Then he added, because he hadn’t exactly practiced what he was
going to tell Trey: “He’s a baby.”
“No shit.” Trey took a step forward, looking shell-shocked.
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