Chapter 22: The Moon Boat

It snowed for the first time on the second Sunday in December.

Hamish drove us to the cemetery on the north side of town, and he parked at the gate and turned off the engine.

"I'll wait here," he said.

"You can come."

"I know. But this one's yours."

I kissed him once and took the carrier out of the back seat.

Theo was buttoned inside it in a snowsuit, with only his face showing.

In my coat pocket I carried the green notebook, wrapped in a dish towel against the wet.

In the other pocket I had a yellow blanket that smelled of cedar.

The path was white and quiet.

Maisie's stone was near the maple tree, small and gray, with her name cut into it and the dates beneath.

There was a little moon carved above her name.

Nobody had put it there but me.

Snow had gathered on the top edge, and I brushed it off with my glove.

"Hi, baby," I said.

I had not said it out loud in a long time.

Every March I had stood here beside a man who stared at his shoes.

I understood now what he'd been staring at.

I knelt down on the cold ground, and I set the carrier in the snow beside me.

Theo was awake, with his dark eyes open and his mouth working at nothing.

"This is your brother," I said. "His name is Theo. He's loud, and he's going to be a lot of work."

A little wind moved the maple.

I took the hospital bracelet out of my pocket, the tiny plastic one with her name on it and the date she was born.

I wound it twice around my own wrist, under my sleeve, beside Hamish's watch, where it would stay.