become part of my family without having to learn new skills. He does nothing more than share a space with us. When we sit in the family room and watch shows, he does, too. When we go upstairs to the empty playroom, he joins us. Of course, he never actually crawls or rolls around. But that’s okay. Anders doesn’t take part in a lot of stuff that Bronco and Lowell do, either. I notice how quiet he is with them. That’s what Anders does.
There are times when we sit in the family room and watch the snow fall outside. Next to the back doors, Future and Dove build towns with their blocks. Mama will read a book. Sitting with Anders, I use his heartbeat to keep time. Like us, Anders is satisfied with the quiet, just as long as he isn’t alone.
Another favorite activity is when Anders watches his sports shows in the family room while the rest of us work in our coloring books. Mine has fairies—which are like pixies. I often rest a pillow in Anders’s lap and relax against him while he puts his feet up. The five of us are safe, warm, and together. That’s all a family needs to be truly happy.
Soon, our baby will make us six. Anders isn’t afraid to be a father. He is very good with Future, always patient and gentle. I also notice how he studies the way Bronco raises his girls.
Besides, Anders won’t be a parent alone. Mama, Dove, and I will help when he’s overwhelmed. And he most definitely will get overwhelmed.
Anders still disappears when Future gets too loud, or Dove begins pacing frantically. Not always, but there are times when the cruel voices in his head feed off people’s emotional distress. He starts believing the lies and obsessing over problems from long ago.
I help him when I can and let him hide when he needs to. If one day, he has to take a ride on his motorcycle or go to Rooster’s Tavern when our baby cries, so be it. I’m unbothered by small things. I trust Anders will always come through in the big moments.
By spring, our house feels like a home. I love the warm colors Anders chose for our family room, kitchen, and dining room. Over our bed, I hung up the dandelion artwork that Lana found on the computer. Mama has a different one in hers while Dove owns several.
Over the family room’s fireplace are pictures of our family that Summer took with her fancy camera. There’s Anders with his half-grin and pale blue eyes against a handsome, tanned face. Next is a picture of Mama wearing a look of determination while gardening with Barbie before the cold weather arrived. Dove’s photo is beautiful with her shy smile and flowing, wavy brown hair as she sits in the sun. And a picture of a laughing Future, so blessed today that he’ll soon forget his suffering from not so long ago. Summer also took a smiling picture of me, feeling silly after my time on the trampoline.
And there, with the other photos, is one of my papa. Our fellow Dandelions sent us every picture and video they could find of him. My memories of Papa faded during the years in the Village. I’d almost forgotten how much he smiled.
“You have his eyes,” Anders says one time when he finds me standing in the hallway looking at the many photos of Papa.
“I often think of how you and Papa are so much alike. The only difference is he grew up loved while you didn’t. Yet, your hearts are similar. I believe that’s why I loved you so quickly. I sensed in you those qualities I loved so much in him.”
Anders almost blushes when I praise him in such ways. He knows how valued Papa was by Mama, Dove, and me. To be compared to someone like Zest Yabo fills Anders with a pride he struggles to embrace.
While praise puts him on the spot, he’s very good at enduring teasing. He receives plenty when our first child is a girl. After all, he copied Bronco’s house. Now, he’s having a daughter. But Anders proves he’s no copycat when he names his first child, Chili, rather than something more normal. Ha, no way did he copy that name from his president!
I suggest “Chili” after I spend much of my pregnancy craving spicy food. Every time I get nauseous, I reached for muamba chicken or anything with chili