To Build a Home

12 | Terrible Twos, Part One

We could hear Noah's screams from down the street. The kiss lasted two, maybe three seconds, and then we pulled away at the faint sound of a toddler crying. He was screaming Darren's name, "Ren! Ren! Ren!"

Darren and I paused and stared at each other, our bodies still an inch apart on his porch. Without thinking, I touched my lips. We didn't say anything, just strained our eyes to make sure we weren't imagining things. Did that really just happen? Was Noah really crying? Or was it all just some trick of the moon and the dark August night?

Darren was instantly sober. We ran as fast as we could back to my brother's house. I had left the front door open knowing that I would only be gone for a few minutes to walk Darren home. Noah must have woken up and when he couldn't find anyone, wandered onto the porch. Great parenting skills, I thought. I trailed behind Darren.

"You left the door open?" Darren asked as we approached the house. The foyer lights shone through the doorway and wrapped Noah in a golden silhouette. He seemed tiny and ominous like a child from a horror film.

"For a second!" I yelled.

Darren swooped in and lifted Noah without hesitation. Noah's face was wet with tears and Darren comforted him by wiping his cheeks and rubbing his back. "We're here. It's all right. You're all right."

"He must be hungry," I said from behind.

Darren didn't acknowledge me. "You want something to eat, little guy? You want a banana?"

Noah loved bananas. He loved how squishy they were and he would squeeze each slice in his fist before attempting to get a few blobs into his mouth. Once inside, I shut the front door behind me and met them in the kitchen. Darren sat Noah on the counter, his feet dangling over the edge, and searched the pantry for something to eat.

"Why don't I feed him and you go to bed, Darren?" I kept my distance.

He continued to ignore me and grabbed a banana. He put it on the counter and went to the utensil drawer for a knife, but it wasn't there. He started opening drawers and cabinets, slamming them closed when he could find what he was looking for. "Where is everything?" he yelled. Before I could answer, he found a knife. I grabbed the banana before he could reach it. Noah slapped his hands on the marble in excitement.

"Darren," I said. "He's been asleep for hours. He's going to be up all night. Go to bed."

"I'm not leaving."

"Then sleep here. Sleep in Noah's bed for all I care. Just go. You're drunk."

Darren looked between Noah and the banana in my hand. He knew I was right. He kissed Noah goodnight and walked past me without a word, handing me the knife. I heard him stomp upstairs and slam the door to Noah's bedroom as I sliced the fruit.

Noah and I stayed up playing games, reading stories, and running around the first floor for no other reason than because Noah had all of the energy in the world and the fever was finally gone. Whenever I started to doze off, he would fall or throw a toy or bark like a dog or laugh or cry or pick my nose. Before I knew it, the sun was rising and I hadn't slept. Charlie and Darren soon emerged, hungover, and Anna arrived to take care of the baby.

I was going to try to get some sleep, but since everyone was together, I suggested we have a big breakfast. I mixed pancake batter in a bowl while Darren fried bacon on the stove. We didn't say much to each other except good morning. Darren and I moved around the kitchen without looking at each other, leaving plenty of space between us until it came time to pour the batter. Standing in front of the stove together, I wasn't sure if the heat was coming from the range or our bodies. I used the spatula to flip a pancake and my elbow grazed his arm resting at his side. I held it there for a moment and he let me. We didn't look up or move or breathe. Then Charlie groaned from behind us and we parted. I burned the first pancake.