Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,332

the middle is scrawled the name we chose for the baby.

Zoe.

It means life. That’s what’s possible: that Zoe’s life and death will save someone else. Bristol laughs and squirms as Jade puts the finishing touches on what looks like a baby panda.

“It tickles!” Bristol screeches, tossing her head back, her dark hair swinging behind her.

She’s so beautiful and so happy. I want to freeze this moment and store it in a time capsule, bury it for safekeeping, for posterity, to show the other children we’ll have a picture of their mother fierce enough to find joy in the most difficult time of her life.

What feels like days later but is only a few hours, the cupcakes are gone, the games are stowed away, the facials are done. These well- meaning women have taken Bristol from me all day, and as much as I love them, I want her back. I want her to myself. There’s a strength we draw from one another that comes in the quiet at the end of the day, holding each other, talking about everything, reassuring each other. It’s not much, but it seems to be the only thing that truly soothes the ache that’s grounded itself immovably in my heart.

I wander into the kitchen, hoping maybe one cupcake survived, only to stop at the door. My mother and Bristol are huddled together against the sink, a tangle of arms and tears and grief and strength. Every primal instinct in my body blares for me to protect the two most important women in my life, to stop whatever is hurting them, but reason filters in and I feel more helpless than I ever have. It’s just life, just death, an inexorable cycle that has shattered my illusion of control, and there is truly nothing I can do to stop the pain.

Bristol glances up from their weepy embrace, a subtle curve tweaking her lips.

“Hey babe.” Her voice, husky and raspy from tears, strangles in her throat. “I was just telling your mom Zoe’s middle name.”

It’s Millicent, Ma’s name. Everyone calls her Mittie, but that’s because Jade couldn’t say Millicent and started calling her Aunt Mittie. It stuck, and we all adopted it, but her given name is Millicent, and like a precious heirloom, we’re passing it on to Zoe.

My mom has talked so much about grandkids in the past, I’m sure these weren’t the circumstances into which she envisioned her first one being born. I insinuate myself into their tight circle, enveloping them both in my arms and trying to give them strength from my depleted reserves.

“I love you,” Ma whispers, pulling back to put her right hand on my cheek and her left on Bristol’s. “Both of you. We’ll get through this. God’ll get us through it. Y’all got my prayers.”

My mama might love her bottle of Ace of Spades and I may have even seen her toke a couple of times growing up when things got hard, but she never misses a Sunday. I know it bothers her that the faith she tried to cultivate for years when I was younger holds no real place in my life anymore.

“Thank you for that. We can use all the prayers we can get,” Bristol replies, shocking the hell out of me. Since when did she care if somebody was praying? I guess tough times can do that to you.

I walk Ma to the door, nodding while she prattles, assuring her that I’ll make sure Bristol gets some rest and promising we’ll eat the food she left in the refrigerator for us.

“Marlon, look at me.” She reaches up to grasp my chin, holding my eyes with an intensity I’ve never seen before. “Bristol is a survivor, we both know that, but she’s not ready for this.”

“She’ll be—”

“Neither are you,” she cuts in, her throat muscles working to hold back tears. “I know you’re trying to brace yourself for it, but I want you to accept that you can’t be prepared for this kind of pain, even when you know it’s coming.”

I stop trying to talk, to defend, to reassure, and instead just absorb her wisdom.

“It’s obvious how much you love your wife and how she adores you, but this will change things.” Ma’s brows gather over troubled eyes. “You don’t come out of this kind of battle without some scars, and as much as it’s gonna hurt you, it’s Bristol who has carried Zoe all this time, felt her move and shared her very body with her. Just