Chapter 24: The Driver's Seat

My son was born at 3:12 the next morning.

The labor had begun on the courthouse steps and ended in a room with the lights turned down.

Carrie was there in her own scrubs.

She had traded a shift to be the one standing at the foot of the bed.

Levi stood beside my head and let me crush his hand.

"You're doing it," he kept saying. "You're doing it, Leah."

"If you say that one more time, I'll file a petition against you."

"Noted," he said.

Carrie laughed so hard the nurse had to tell her to hold the leg properly.

Then the room went quiet, and a thin, furious cry came up from the end of the bed.

The doctor laid him on my chest, wet and red and angry.

He had a lot of dark hair, and he looked at me with one eye open.

"Hello," I said.

I had waited two years for that word.

Levi's face was wet, and he didn't try to hide it.

Carrie wiped her eyes on her sleeve and said, "I'm calling Mom."

She left the room, and I heard her start to cry in the hall.

At eight, Derek's mother came in with a bag of lemon bars.

She held her grandson in both arms and did not speak for a long time.

"He has Derek's chin," she said, and then looked at me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's his chin," I said. "You're allowed."

Derek came at ten.

He stood in the doorway in the same navy suit, unshaven, with his hands hanging empty.