And there, with the other photos, is one of my papa. Our fellow Dandelions sent us every picture and video they could find of him. My memories of Papa faded during the years in the Village. I’d almost forgotten how much he smiled.
“You have his eyes,” Anders says one time when he finds me standing in the hallway looking at the many photos of Papa.
“I often think of how you and Papa are so much alike. The only difference is he grew up loved while you didn’t. Yet, your hearts are similar. I believe that’s why I loved you so quickly. I sensed in you those qualities I loved so much in him.”
Anders almost blushes when I praise him in such ways. He knows how valued Papa was by Mama, Dove, and me. To be compared to someone like Zest Yabo fills Anders with a pride he struggles to embrace.
While praise puts him on the spot, he’s very good at enduring teasing. He receives plenty when our first child is a girl. After all, he copied Bronco’s house. Now, he’s having a daughter. But Anders proves he’s no copycat when he names his first child, Chili, rather than something more normal. Ha, no way did he copy that name from his president!
I suggest “Chili” after I spend much of my pregnancy craving spicy food. Every time I get nauseous, I reached for muamba chicken or anything with chili powder. Anders loves heat, too. He’ll devour any rich and spicy meal.
“Food is precious,” I tell Anders a few nights before our baby is born. “I see no harm in naming our daughter after something we value so much. You and I both know what it’s like to go hungry.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he says, resting my back against his chest as we sit in the backyard and enjoy the mild weather. “We can name our kid whatever we want. If people give us attitude, I’ll stand too close to them until they shut up.”
And he does! When his club brothers or their honeys tease him too much about Chili’s name, he’ll move closer and closer until they get scared and go away.
Chili inherits Anders’s pale blonde hair and light blue eyes, but she has my face. She also gets her papa’s size, meaning I can’t push her out through my pussy.
“Don’t use that word when you’re in labor,” Anders begs, and we laugh since he’s so particular about the names for things.
The doctor has to cut Chili out of my stomach. Months ago, he explained how we ought to plan for surgery, but I was certain I could push her out. I’m not a tiny woman, and I’ve witnessed the birth of many babies. However, Chili won’t come out.
“Her head is too big,” the doctor says, making me laugh.
Then I ask, “Can we make the hole bigger?”
The doctor looks at me as if I’m crazy. I hadn’t wanted to be in a hospital anyway, but now I have to get cut open. Well, I think he’s the crazy one!
“Let’s do the C-section,” Anders insists. “We can’t take a chance with you and the baby.”
There are times when I know I have to give in to my grand sequoia. He gets too scared or angry to be reasoned with. Besides, I accept later how getting my baby stuck was a dangerous situation, and I should have listened to the doctor.
Though I was wrong about her birth, I’m comfortable once Chili’s home. We keep her in our bedroom, so I won’t need to walk up the stairs after my surgery. Despite Chili having her own room with a baby cage like Carina’s, I’m uncertain when we’ll move her. Future continues to share a bed with Mama. One day, he’ll be too big. Or so Anders claims, but I shared a sleeping area with my family until moving into this house. I’m curious about how different my children’s upbringing will be from mine.
Chili is a happy baby, but she’s a terrible sleeper. Mama has to help so Anders and I can enjoy a full night’s rest. Anders vaguely remembers his grandmother saying how he didn’t sleep a lot as a baby. Of course, he can’t trust those memories or her word. Still, I like to believe Chili takes after her papa.
Anders often sits outside and just stares at his daughter. She is easily entertained and will suck on her fist while looking back at him. His love for Chili is so powerful that I never worry he’ll lose his temper with her. If Anders feels himself growing agitated from the noise or his desire for heroin or just anything, he’ll step away. He’s learning more about himself. I like to believe he was reborn when his daughter entered the world.
We never use any birth control for women. Instead, I track my cycle, and Anders wears condoms during my most fertile days. The doctor said I should avoid pregnancy for several years because of the surgery. I see no downside to an age gap for my children. Dove, Future, and I are over five years apart. Bronco’s daughters have gaps in their ages too, yet they get along well.
Then, after almost two years, Anders feels a yearning for another baby. Our first month without being careful creates our son.
Bear looks so much like Anders—big, blond, and blue-eyed. They even have the same pout. But our son’s stubborn personality mirrors mine. Despite Anders’s troubled heart, he’s naturally good-natured. Maybe even a little shy. People saw his size and turned him into a
