When I was eleven, I jumped a chain-link fence and fumbled the landing, snapping my right wrist. I recollect the moment I launched myself off the metal pole, how it felt like I was thirty feet up in the air—the swoop of my stomach lifting, everything inside of me rising, the peak timeless—right before the drop. I came crashing down so fast that I didn’t realize all of the green blurring around me was my body rolling over grass. Three flips, then confusion. Wondering how I got all the way down there onto my back. Followed by searing pain.
Alex meets my stare and that’s when it all drops. He has to know how stunned I am, but he merely smiles and says casually, “This is my son, Miles. He’s a little shy at first, but chatty once he opens up.” He makes Miles’s arms do the wave. “Aren’tcha? Miles, this is my friend Romina.”
My heart sprains.
Miles’s mom points at me, eyes widening. She’s pretty, with carroty hair, transparent lashes and eyebrows. “You,” she gasps. “Did you used to have brown hair?”
I’ve lost control of my faculties. A stranger inside my body responds: “Yes.”
The woman’s nose scrunches adorably when she smiles. “When I met him, he had a picture of you on his fridge.”
Alex reddens. “I did not.”
“You did so! I told you I thought she was cute. Then you got all moody and took the picture down, hid it somewhere. Weirdo.”
Alex gestures from me to her, bemused. “Romina, this is Kelsey. Miles’s mom.”
Kelsey’s husband doesn’t have to introduce himself as her husband when he appears—I know straightaway, because they’re the kind of couple who look like a perfect pair. Both are heavily tattooed, from their knuckles all the way up to their necks. He’s in a ribbed white tank that sticks to his amazing physique as if it’s been painted on. He’s got shiny black hair that cascades down his back, light brown skin, and either his left eyebrow has a scar in it where hair no longer grows or he intentionally shaves a line through it, but the effect is quite something. Kelsey pats his chest. “José, this is Romina. Alex used to have her picture on his fridge! He’s embarrassed about it.”
José and I nod hello.
Kelsey’s eyes dart from mine to Alex’s and back again. “You look kinda freaked out,” she observes.
Alex tries to move closer to me, but Miles is still hugging his waist, so he arranges Miles’s feet on top of his own and awkwardly side-shuffles over. Miles buries his face in Alex’s side so that he won’t have to look at me. “We recently reconnected,” Alex tells her. I try very hard not to think about all the dexterous ways we connected. I am conscious of what my face is doing, how it keeps slipping into a deer-in-the-headlights stupor when I need for it to remain blank until I figure out how I feel. To me, Alex explains, “She and I were together a few years ago.”
Kelsey slaps a hand over her chest. “Not together, together. We weren’t even exclusive.”
My mouth is dry. I try to nod along, unsure how to participate in this conversation. “Oh. Okay.”
She hoots at the look on my face. “Sometimes, life goes boom! And you’ve got a Miles. And you didn’t even know you wanted a Miles, but then you find out, and it’s like, wow. I kinda really want this Miles.” She tousles her son’s hair.
José presses his lips to her shoulder, holding back a laugh. Kelsey pats his head. “He thinks I overshare. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I manage, somewhat faint.
Alex seizes my waist, yanking me close to his side. I can feel the low vibrations of his contained laughter.
“Okay, so.” Kelsey squints, aiming two fingers at us. “Alex, I trust you, so I don’t know what this is but I know you’re gonna do what’s best for Miles. And, Romina? It was nice meeting you in person, sweetie.” She hugs me. “I’m a hugger,” she explains happily, squeezing.
“Yeah, you are,” I rasp. “You’re so strong.”
She steps away, curling a bicep. “I don’t wanna be one of those people who tells everybody their Peloton changed their life, but legit, Peloton changed my life.”
“It’s her whole personality now,” José adds.
“We better get going, but thanks for the extra day,” Kelsey tells Alex, trying to sneak toward the exit without Miles noticing. Miles has unburied his face and is watching the other kids curiously but hasn’t yet detached from Alex’s leg. “Didn’t think you’d want Bert here, too much chaos, so we’ll bring him next time. We got these awesome Dole whip meringues for you, though. Left ’em on that table over there!”
“I’m allergic to pineapple,” Alex replies, half a second before I can.
“Whoops, my bad. You want them, Romina?”
“I’d rather she didn’t.” Alex slants her a meaningful look.
Her eyes widen. “Oh. Oh! Right. Yeah, don’t eat those.” Kelsey waves goodbye to us in the same way I’ve seen moms at daycare wave, imitating their toddlers—four fingers together, tapping their palms, bye-bye!, while holding another finger to her lips. We both assess Miles, who’s shuffling cautiously toward the herd of children. Then she tiptoes away in her chunky combat boots, José following behind.
Alex turns to me. “I have him every Saturday and Sunday, but they took a vacation to Disney World, so it was either he went to the wedding rehearsal or he got an extra day at Disney.”
“Yep,” I say, bobbing my head. A more intelligent response cannot possibly be expected from me right now.
“Wedding rehearsals are boring when you’re four. Figured he’d have more fun on tiny roller coasters.”
“Yep.”
He beams winningly. “I have a son.”
I sit down. “So I have learned.”
Miles doesn’t look back at him; a boy is showing him a picture of a turd he drew (I’m pretty sure they’re all drawing turds—what a fun surprise that will be for Daniel and Kristin) and Miles is showing his tablet to the boy, so Alex is basically a piece of furniture now.
Who is watching my reaction closely.
I know I have to say something, so I grapple for words. “You didn’t mention you have kids.”
“Kid. Only one.” He holds up an index finger. “The best kid in the world. And he’s so smart, too. He has, like, thirty dog breeds memorized and can tell you their countries of origin. He plays T-ball and has this little jersey with his last name, Hoffner, on the back, it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.” He’s very proud. “He’ll tell you he can do cartwheels but really, he just bends over and puts his head between his legs. When he grows up, he wants to work both as a veterinarian and also at Long John Silver’s, his favorite restaurant.”
The more I analyze Miles, the more slap-you-in-the-face-obvious it is that he’s Alex’s. Not just the hair, but his side-to-side dancing reminds me of elementary-age Alex. He used to get in trouble in second grade for climbing out of his seat without permission, wandering to the bookshelves, messing with building blocks. I let out a long, hissing breath. “You’re a dad. You’re a dad.”
“I know. Great, isn’t he?” Alex is smiling affectionately, and there’s a wistful tug in my ribs—a fervent wishing that I’d gotten to see the love in his face when he held his baby for the first time.
There’s a noise in my eardrums like a snapping wind, my equilibrium off. The world tips onto its side, everybody in the room walking on the walls, across the ceiling, totally oblivious to it.
“Kids, go find your parents,” Alex announces. “Miles, you’re with me, little man. Are you excited to wear a special suit?”
“No.”
“Won’t it be fun to carry Grandma’s ring in a box?”
“No.”
“It’s a special job. You get to be ring bearer! Remember when we asked you about being a ring bearer?”
“No.”
“Wonderful! This’ll be fun.”
They disappear upstairs together, to get ready with the other groomsmen. I flatten myself against a wall downstairs, attention darting to the door every so often, panic quickening my pulse. I feel deeply strange. Out-of-body strange. It’s just now hitting me: Kristin remarrying, Alex thundering back into my life, Alex’s son. Why am I here? What is the point? I’ve already set up Kristin’s flowers, so I could easily leave, nobody would even notice.
Alex has a son.
I fiddle with the tulle flower petals stitched to my mint tea-length dress, tears rushing to my eyes. I wipe them away, hoping nobody notices. Reach into my purse for my charm bag. I turn the malachite—a beautiful, deep green stone—over in my palm, repeating its magical properties in a mantra. Protects. Grounds and centers. Keeps the heart open.
Alex reemerges in a suit sharp enough to draw blood. He spins. “How do I look?”
I swallow. “Very handsome.” I try to help him with his tie but only succeed in creating a knot that takes five minutes to detangle. Somehow, Allison’s the only one who knows how to tie a tie besides Daniel, who’s busy, and she’s been going around assisting all the other men. She threatens to start charging for her services.
“I’ll just be down here.” I try to sidle away, but Alex catches my arm.
“Ah, ah, ah. You’ll just be right here.”
“I can’t hang around you,” I whisper. “People will notice.”
“So? What’s wrong with hanging around me?”
I press the malachite against my breastbone, hard.
“Hey, Miss Skittish.” Alex bends to look me in the eye. “You all right?”
Miles troops downstairs, slowly, one step at a time, clutching the rail. I try to leave again, but Alex takes my hand.
“I don’t want to intrude. This is a special family moment.”
“You’re not slithering away, Romina Emily. I know your modus operandi. If I let you escape, I won’t see you for the rest of the day.”
“You have other things to concentrate on.” I hug myself, smoothing my hands over my arms, exposed nerves. Remember to breathe. “Kelsey’s pretty nice.”
“Yeah, she’s cool.”
My mind leaps from lily pad to lily pad. “You had my picture on your fridge.”
He grunts, helping me untangle my earring from my hair. He’s standing very close, those beautiful eyes fixed on me, knowing entirely too much, fingers brushing my skin. It’s unfair, his way of turning me inside out, upside down. It compels me to babble nervously.
“How long ago was this? Four years, nine months, something along those lines? Wow. The choke hold I must’ve had on you.”
“I had loads of pictures on my fridge, since I didn’t have anywhere else to put them. Figures that she noticed the one with you in it.” He takes a break from pretending to adjust my jewelry to remove the choker necklace from my throat, silk weaving between his fingers.
“Do you still have it up? My picture, I mean.”
A stern glance. Then he loops the ribbon around his wrist, fashioning it into a bracelet. “No.”
“I bet you know where it is, though. What on earth are you doing?”
“Stealing your ribbon.”
“Get your own.”
“That defeats the purpose of stealing yours.”
Before I can ask why he needs my ribbon, he continues, “Initially, I thought you were with Trevor.” He briefly pins me with a fierce look. “Because you said you were. For a while, though, I suspected you weren’t. Then, I thought you were again, and then after that I thought, no, I was right to have been suspicious. It’s been quite a ride. I haven’t had you alone to myself nearly enough until last night. I wasn’t sure how to say it, how to introduce you to Miles. As a friend? Am I your friend?”
“I have no idea,” I reply honestly.
Alex finger-combs Miles’s hair. “Your pants are on backwards. Let me help you fix that.”
Miles’s forehead puckers as he surveys himself. “No. I want it this way.”
“All right, then.” Alex gives him a thumbs-up. “You look great.”
Miles gives a thumbs-up, too, his small face serious.
“I don’t want to be ring bearer,” Miles says, and Alex inhales. Squats down.
“Why don’t you want to be the ring bearer?”
“I don’t want to walk, I want to sit with you.”
“I’m not going to be sitting. Remember? I’m going to walk with Grandma down the aisle, and then I’ll stand near Grandpa Daniel.”
“Can I walk with you, too?”
“I don’t see why not. Would you help us out and hold onto the ring box, though? I’m going to be holding Grandma’s arm, and she’ll be holding her flowers, so we need a big helper to hold the ring.”
“Okay.” Miles admires himself. “I like my shoes!”
“You look very nice,” I hear myself say, distantly.
“Thank you. You, too.” Miles isn’t looking at me, and his reply is perfunctory, but Alex beams.
“She does, doesn’t she?”
I am a hanger-on, uncertain of myself, my presence, my role here. All I know is that I don’t like the way this uncertainty feels and it makes me want to hide.