Chapter 57 - The Light We Lost

I once read that birthdays are celebrated more elaborately in New York City than they are anywhere else in the world. I have no data points, no study to cite, which is what I’d ask someone at work to provide if they made a statement like that, but from anecdotal evidence, I wouldn’t dispute that claim.

For my thirtieth birthday, Darren treated me, Kate, and Julia to a spa day at Bliss, and booked the two of us a weeklong trip to Australia.

“It’s on your bucket list!” he said.

At least this time he asked first. Darren and I were doing pretty well on our bucket lists. He’d even gotten to ride a Segway at a bachelor party in Miami a few months earlier and crossed off number 1. “But what about Violet?” I asked. She was almost two and a half years old, and while we’d left her with my parents or Darren’s parents for long weekends before, we’d never been away for longer than that, and had never been farther than California.

“I think Violet could probably use a vacation from us,” he said.

Violet was on the floor next to Annie, with triangle-shaped safety crayons. She loved those things—could scribble for hours. I’m not exaggerating.

“Hey, Vi,” he said.

“Hey, Daddy,” she answered.

“I have exciting news. You’re going to get to stay with Nana and Pop-Pop for a whole week while Mommy and I go on a trip!”

“Pop-Pop!” Violet’s eyes opened wide. “Yes, please,” she said, and went back to coloring.

“I think she’ll be fine,” Darren said.

And so we went. A plane from New York to San Francisco. Then San Francisco to Hawaii. Hawaii to Fiji. Fiji to Sydney. I don’t love planes. Have we ever talked about that? The smallness of them, the recycled air, the inability to leave—it all rattles me if I think about it for too long. So Darren figured if we took a lot of shorter flights, there would be less time for me to panic while flying. I think it was a good idea, actually, because each time a flight started to feel too long, too constraining, we were just about to land. I’ve tried to employ that flying strategy ever since. Though I did fly direct from New York to Tel Aviv. It was the fastest way to get here.

Anyway, we landed the day before my birthday, and a limo picked us up at the airport, taking us to the Four Seasons.

“I booked us a suite,” Darren told me as we relaxed in the back of the car.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said.

He shrugged. “We haven’t really traveled anywhere exciting since our honeymoon. And who knows when we’ll have the chance to do it again.”

When we got to the room, I hooked into the Wi-Fi and called my parents. “Violet’s fine,” my mom said. “Jason and Vanessa are here with the triplets. She’s having a blast on your old swing set.”

I wasn’t sure if it would be better or worse if we talked on the phone, and since she was having fun, I figured I could call back later.

“You have to see this!” Darren was saying from the bedroom.

“I’ll call again soon, Mom,” I told her. “Give Violet an extra kiss from me.”

“Of course,” my mom said.

I walked into the bedroom, and on the dresser were chocolate-dipped strawberries and champagne. There was a box of a dozen long-stemmed roses on the bed.

“What did you tell them?” I asked Darren.

“That we were celebrating,” he said. “And to send their best.” Then he kissed me, and I relaxed into his arms. Being with him felt like kicking off a pair of heels after a long day at work. Natural, freeing, effortless.

“I love you,” I told him, as he slid his hand under my shirt and unclasped my bra.

And those beautiful roses ended up scattered all over the floor.

•   •   •

I WOKE UP in the middle of the night feeling panicked, like I’d forgotten something. I went through a list in my head. I’d packed my phone charger and the outlet adapters. I’d remembered bras and underwear and socks. Makeup. Deodorant. Sneakers. I’d called my mother, I’d spoken to Violet. Then I realized what it was. I poked Darren.

“I forgot my birth control pills,” I whispered to him, when he was awake enough to hear me.

“That’s good,” he muttered. “It’s a good time for a second baby.”

Then he went back to sleep, but I didn’t. I spent the night staring at the ceiling, wondering how upset Darren would be if I asked him to wear a condom.

The answer was: very.

Liam was conceived in Australia.