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“No,” I said. “You don’t understand. But you will.”
“It was ours.”
Watson’s voice cracked. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know now,” the doctor said. “The couple moved years ago.”
I held up the photo. “He found us first.”
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***
When we pulled into the driveway, the party was still loud. Riley and Rex were still laughing in the backyard, and my mother’s car sat near the curb.
Watson reached for my hand. “Let me go in first.”
“He found us first.”
“No,” I said. “You’re coming with me.”
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We climbed the porch steps together.
A tall boy stood near the railing, as if he’d been deciding whether to knock or run.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I left the box and walked away. But I heard them laughing out back, and I couldn’t leave.”
I knew him before he said another word.
“You’re coming with me.”
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“Rowan.”
His eyes filled. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you.”
“You don’t have to call me anything yet.”
He looked at Watson. “Are you angry?”
Watson made a broken sound. “At you? Never.”
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Rowan looked back at me. “I just needed to know if I was unwanted.”
“No.” I stepped closer, then stopped. “Can I?”
“Are you angry?”
He nodded.
I touched his cheek with two fingers.
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He was warm, real, and breathing.
“You were wanted every second, my boy.”
Then the patio door slid open behind us.
Mom stepped through with a bright gift bag. “Dawn? Why are you standing out front? I brought the boys their presents.”
He was warm, real, and breathing.
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My mother stared at Rowan like she’d seen a ghost.
“Dawn,” she whispered.
I stepped between her and my son.
“Which boys, Mom?”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
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“You brought gifts for Riley and Rex,” I said. “But you knew there were three.”
Watson stood beside me. “You told us Rowan died.”
My mother stared at Rowan.
Mom’s hand tightened around the gift bag. “Not now. Let’s do this later, when the backyard isn’t crawling with teenagers.”
“No,” I said. “Let’s do it now.”
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The backyard went quiet. Riley came to the patio door first, with Rex right behind him.
“Mom?” Riley asked. “What’s going on?”
Watson’s voice broke. “Boys, this is Rowan.”
“What’s going on?”
Rex stared at him. “Our brother?”
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For a few seconds, nobody moved.
Rowan looked down. “I didn’t come here to take anything from you.”
Riley stepped closer, trying not to throw his arms around his brother. “You’re not taking anything.”
Rowan’s jaw shook. “I spent my whole life thinking I was the one nobody could keep.”
“No,” I said. “That was never true.”
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“You’re not taking anything.”
Mom started crying. “You were falling apart, Dawn. Two babies at home, bills, machines, no sleep. I arranged the funeral because you couldn’t look at the tiny coffin.”
My stomach turned.
“You told me not to,” I said.
“I wanted you to remember him happy. Not like that.”
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“You put his framed baby picture on a sealed coffin and said Rowan was too fragile to view. But it was empty.”
“I was protecting you.”
“You were falling apart, Dawn.”
“No. You were hiding what you’d done.”
Watson wiped his face. “We buried an empty box because you decided grief was easier to manage than truth.”
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Mom looked at Rowan. “I found you a good home. Parents who loved you before they met you. They had money. They could focus just on you.”
Rowan flinched. “You told them I wasn’t wanted. You told them that my parents had given me up because they didn’t want another mouth to feed.”
“You were hiding what you’d done.”
“I said your mother couldn’t raise you.”
“I could have,” I said. “Tired mothers are still mothers.”
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Riley looked at Mom. “Grandma, did you know he was alive this whole time?”
She didn’t answer.
Rex stepped back when she reached for him. “Don’t.”
“Rex, honey.”
“No. You don’t get to touch us right now.”
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I pointed toward the side gate. “Leave.”
“Tired mothers are still mothers.”
“Dawn, please.”
“All contact goes through a lawyer.”
“You’re cutting me off from my family?”
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“No,” I said. “You did that eighteen years ago.”
***
After she left, Rowan stayed near the porch steps.
Riley glanced at him. “Do you like chocolate cake?”
“Dawn, please.”
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Rowan gave a broken little laugh. “I don’t know. I usually had vanilla.”
Rex wiped his eyes. “That’s tragic. We’ll fix that first.”
I brought out the cake and lit three small candles.
One for each of my sons.
Watson whispered, “Make a wish.”
