After Four Daughters, My Husband Finally Got the Son He'd Been Begging For – But When He Held Our Newborn Boy for the First Time, His Words Made My Stomach Drop
Diana read it twice.
"You're not guilty. Act like it."
"Elena, stop calling him."
"He's my husband. I have to make him listen."
"He's not listening. That's the whole point." She sat down across from me and put her hand on my knee. "You keep begging, you keep looking guilty. You're not guilty. Act like it."
I stared at the baby.
Waiting was the worst part.
"What do I do?"
"You prove it in a language he can't argue with."
I ordered the test that afternoon. Diana went back to the house and brought me Aaron’s toothbrush from our bathroom. The cheek swab from my son took ten seconds. Mailing both samples took an hour, because I sat in the parking lot with the envelope in my lap, shaking.
Waiting was the worst part.
"I've known him a long time."
I kept replaying every time Michael had been alone with me. The pool party two summers ago. The cups of coffee at my kitchen table while Aaron worked late.
****
On the fourth day, the doorbell rang.
Michael stood on Diana's porch holding a stuffed bear.
For a second I remembered him at Aaron's father's funeral, standing several feet behind the family while everyone filed past the casket. I'd thought it strange then. Michael had stayed until almost everyone else was gone, staring at the closed lid.
"I can't talk about it right now."
When I'd asked if he was all right, he'd only said, "I've known him a long time."
I'd assumed he meant through Aaron.
"Elena, what's going on? Aaron blocked me. Did I do something?"
I gripped the doorframe.
"He deserves to hear it from Aaron."
"I can't talk about it right now."
His face changed.
"Is it the baby?"
"We're fine. Just give us time."
He set the bear on the step and left
