Christmas was a little peculiar, but at least Mama had come home from the hospital the day before. Eli was still there, though, in that special little bed.
On Christmas morning, we opened presents. I got a whole set of the Little House on the Prairie books, a brand-new dictionary, two pairs of jeans, some warm, fluffy, dark green pajamas, a gloves and scarf and hat set, and a cute little ceramic cardinal that looked real enough to fly away on its own. As soon as we finished our biscuits-and-gravy breakfast, we went to see Eli again. That whole day, we looked at him and held him and talked to him and sang to him and wished and wished and wished he could come home with us. But he was still too tiny, and it was better for him if he stayed right where he was until he and all his parts were strong enough to live at home.
We were quiet going back to the house that evening. Who would’ve thought you could miss someone who hadn’t even been home yet?
But we didn’t have to wait long. Michael Eli Reilly was such a good boy that he gained weight fast. He was breathing good and growing just fine.
So, on the morning of New Year’s Eve, he got to come home. Boy, oh boy, you never saw such a homecoming, either. Grandma made a big celebration lunch and invited Ian and Isabel and Forest and Temple.
He got passed around from person to person like a sack of candy so much, I felt sorry for the kid. But he just slept and made funny faces and grunted sometimes.
Mama showed us how to hold him so his head was supported and so his new little muscles wouldn’t get sore. She also demonstrated changing his diaper, including how to clean the poopy messes, which would not be fun, let me tell you.
That day, Ian and Isabel stood in Mama and Daddy’s bedroom by the little blue bassinet and stared at Eli for what seemed like hours. It made me wonder if either of them had ever seen a baby before. They held him forever and stroked his skin and hair and smiled all goofy while they were at it. I figured that kid was gonna get spoiled big-time by the St. Jameses.
Temple brought some kind of goop she said was good for a baby’s delicate skin and encouraged Mama to feed him only healthy things, as if she thought Mama was gonna take Eli to the nearest McDonald’s and order him some french fries tomorrow.
But Mama just nodded and smiled all nice and sweet and said, “Thanks for your concern, Temple. I’ll be sure he eats well.”
After a while, everyone left the bedroom except me and Mama and Eli because it was time for him to nurse. I sat at the foot of the bed and watched as Mama rocked him and sang to him, sometimes looking up and smiling at me, sometimes looking down and smiling at him.
As soon as she was finished, I said, “Can I hold him now, Mama?”
“Sure, honey,” she said, and handed him over to me just like she trusted me with the greatest treasure in the whole entire world.
I looked down at that little face and the fuzzy red hair. Then I gave him a tiny, gentle kiss right on his soft cheek.
I bet you’re thinking, “April Grace Reilly, what happened to you? All this time you’ve been a rotten girl, thinking rotten ole thoughts about that tiny little baby who can’t help being a tiny little baby, and you kept wishing, in the secret part of yourself, that he didn’t exist. How come you felt that way?”
I have to tell you: I had been afraid. Afraid Mama would no longer want me, afraid our family would fall apart and I’d lose Mama and Daddy to that baby as well as Grandma. I guess being afraid makes you think things that make no sense. You see, deep down I knew Mama would always be my mama. Daddy, Grandma, and even ole Myra Sue would still be my family. That would never change just because someone new joined us. I mean, if Ian and Isabel hadn’t torn us apart, how in the world could little Michael Eli Reilly do it?
Sure, our home life would never be the same. Mama would be tired and frazzled, and ole Myra Sue and me would have to do way more chores than we do now, and Grandma would probably spend way more time rocking that baby than was necessary—but I’ll bet she rocked me just as much.
Eli hadn’t taken away anything. I still had my home, and my friends, and lots of love from lots of people.
What else could I have possibly needed? Well, there was one thing.
I needed to be a big sister. I needed to teach Eli some things.
Number one: Not to put bugs in his mouth (because kids, especially boys, do that). Number two: How to deal with the red-hair-and-freckles-teasing business. Number three: How to be polite to Temple and Forest in spite of how they smell, and number four: How to put up with Isabel St. James when she acts like a knothead. But maybe I wouldn’t need to teach him that because, really, she’s pretty cool once you get to know her.
I’d probably have to teach him a few things about dealing with Myra Sue, but maybe she’d not be such a pain when it came to Eli.
There’s something else. I had been worrying for the longest time about becoming all snooty and prissy because I thought maybe being that way just naturally came with big sister territory. But here’s what I realized: I, April Grace Reilly, am not a snooty, prissy person, not even down in the far depths of my own personal heart. I doubted I’d ever be in a clique or anything that even looks like a clique. In fact, I’d rather be a hick than belong to a clique, because hicks tend to be a lot nicer to other people.
So, looking at my little baby brother, who was gonna need me a lot as he grew up, I realized what a big sister is and what a big sister is not. I figured I stood a good chance of being a pretty good one. At least I was sure gonna try.