SIX YEARS EARLIER
NATALIA LIFTED CONNER FROM the car seat and set him on her hip while her mom unloaded the groceries. Conner slumped against her, warm and heavy and more than half-asleep. With her free hand, she pulled his green plaid blankie from the car, shook out the Goldfish crumbs, and tucked it between him and her side. Heaven help them all if it ever got lost.
Her brother was two, nine years younger than she was. Natalia’s parents sometimes called him their miracle baby. Maybe they didn’t realize how that sounded. Like she was just the normal, boring kid. Like she hadn’t been enough.
Today at the store an old grandpa type had praised her, calling her “little mother.” It had made her feel both grown-up and resentful, all at once.
Natalia loved her little brother. Of course she did. But a little baby needed a lot of attention. When he was brand-new, it had been rough. During the day he was fine, but that first year Conner barely slept at night. She and her parents endured endless hours of him red-faced and screaming. Which meant none of them slept.
Then one night: a miracle. The screaming stopped. Natalia tiptoed into his room. Her parents were already there, staring down at his crib. Conner was in some state between sleeping and waking, sucking his thumb while the fingers of his free hand rubbed the satin binding of one of his million baby blankets. This one had been made by one of her mom’s work friends. Plain yellow flannel on one side and green plaid on the other, it was bound together with a wide green strip of satin.
And from that night on, it was Conner’s special blankie, the one thing he had to have to sleep or just calm down.
Most of the satin was now little more than dirty threads. Once, while Conner was napping, her mom had snuck it away and added new binding. When he woke up, he’d gotten so upset her mom had been forced to rip it back off.
Now Natalia’s mom unlocked the door and pushed it open with her foot. She walked through the mudroom and set the bags down on the kitchen counter.
Natalia carried Conner inside. He had gotten cuter once he was finally able to talk. And asleep, he was always adorable, with his flushed cheeks, brown cowlick, and rosebud mouth.
“See if you can put him down without waking him up,” her mom whispered.
Natalia tried not to jostle him as she started upstairs. Her feet made soft shushing sounds on the tan carpet. But he didn’t stir as she laid him on his toddler bed, covered him with his blankie, and then gently closed the door.
Back downstairs, Natalia helped put things away. Her mom suddenly muttered a swear word under her breath. “I can’t believe it! I forgot the Parmesan.”
“Do you have to have it?”
“It’s like the main part of the recipe.” Her mom frowned. “You can’t have cacio e pepe without Parmesan.”
Her mom was right. Without the salty, tangy strands of Parmesan tangling the pasta, it would just be starchy strings dotted with pepper. The pasta and a premade salad were supposed to be their dinner tonight. They had bought ingredients for other meals, but they all took much longer to cook.
They looked at each other. Natalia thought they were both picturing the same thing. Waking up a cranky Conner. His back arching, his face turning red. Trying to force him into his car seat. His ear-piercing screams as they drove back. Her mom would probably want Natalia to wait in the car with the doors locked while she ran in. Strangers would walk by, staring at her and the screaming toddler beside her.
“Why don’t you just go back?” Natalia said. “Let him sleep, and I’ll finish putting away the groceries.”
“But you’re not twelve yet.” In Oregon, twelve was the age when a child could be left alone without an adult present. Natalia thought she and her mom were both looking forward to it, for different reasons.
“But I’ll be twelve in six months.” She straightened up, trying to look taller. “Besides, how long will it take? Ten minutes? I’ll lock the doors. I have my cell phone. What can happen in ten minutes?”
“I don’t know,” her mom said slowly. But Natalia could tell she was torn. Finally, she picked up her keys. “I’ll be back in a flash.”
After she left, Natalia felt so grown-up. Maybe if she demonstrated how capable she was, her mom would loosen up. After all, who cared that she was not exactly twelve? Just as long as she was able to handle things. And wouldn’t her mom be happy if she came home and the pasta was already cooking?
Natalia ran the faucet until the water was as hot as it would get, then filled the big metal pot her mom always used. She already knew pasta tasted best if you cooked it in salted water, so she added several shakes. After setting it on the burner, she covered it with a lid, the way her mom did, so it would boil faster. Then she turned the knob on the gas stove all the way to the right, until it started making a clicking noise.
And she waited for the flame to flick on.