He remembered everything, and he said less than he knew.
Clare called him her old soul, and she meant it as the highest compliment she could give because she had been one herself.
Lily was eight, gentle, artistic, emotionally tuned to frequencies that most adults could not hear.
She drew birds constantly in a notebook Clare had bought her titled Lily’s Bird Book on the cover in Lily’s own handwriting.
She cried when adults argued, even quietly, even in the next room with the door closed because Lily could feel tension the way some people feel weather.
And baby Jack was 3 years old and operated at a level of joyful destruction that Clare found both exhausting and deeply entertaining.
He ate crayons.
He once called the mailman, “Daddy,” in front of four neighbors, and Clare had to explain to Margaret Henderson across the street that no, the mailman was not Jack’s father.
Jack simply called every adult male daddy, including the cashier at the grocery store and once memorably a mannequin at the department store.
He loved his mother with the fierce, physical, non-negotiable devotion of a toddler who has not yet learned that love is supposed to be complicated.
Clare was 7 months pregnant.
She moved through the house with one hand resting on her belly, talking to the baby softly when she thought no one could hear.
She told the baby about the weather, about what she was cooking for dinner, about how Lily had drawn a cardinal that morning that was actually quite good.
She told him about Ethan’s science project, a model of the solar system made from painted styrofoam balls and wire hangers that had taken over the dining room table for 2 weeks.
She told him about Lily’s birds, how Lily had started drawing cardinals because she had seen one outside her window every morning and decided it was visiting specifically for her.
She told him about Jack, about the mailman incident, and she thought she saw something flicker across her father’s face that might have been amusement.
She told him about the baby, how the baby kicked at 2:00 in the morning every night like clockwork, like the baby had already decided to be punctual.
She told him she was thinking of naming her Emma after Grandma Helen’s middle name.
