Maybe Matt's Miracle(55)

“I’m going to go clean up,” Matt says, gesturing toward the bathroom. He goes into the bathroom and closes the door.

“Is he all right?” Emily asks Paul. She looks worried. She picks up a dish towel and starts to wipe her face, her gaze never leaving the direction in which Matt went.

“He’s fine,” Paul says. But his gaze lingers on the bathroom door.

I can’t help but be amazed by their family. They love and care for one another. I look at Seth, who has been watching with amusement. They remind me of how Seth is with the girls. They’re playful and loving, and they support one another. I suddenly want to be a part of this family more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I want to be Matt’s family. And I want him to be part of mine.





Matt



Emily is f*cking pregnant. Logan’s going to be a father. Emily is going to be a mother. I’m going to be an uncle. Again. I stare into the mirror and swallow hard to push the feelings back down into my gut, where they can stay nice and hidden. I don’t particularly like wearing them on my face.

I leave the bathroom door open since I’m just washing up. The icing is sticking to my beard stubble, though, and it’s a little bit difficult to get off. Emily knocks on the door. She looks ridiculous with her face smeared with icing. Even more ridiculous than I do. She licks her fingers as she walks into the bathroom and takes out a towel. She doesn’t say anything as she leans over the sink and gets it wet, and then starts to clean her face off, too.

Her eyes finally meet mine in the mirror. Her gaze darts away.

“You okay, Em?” I ask.

She nods and keeps swiping at her face. “This blue stuff is hard to get off. Need to tell Sam to use a different color next time.”

“Or next time, we can try not wearing it.” I snort. Like that will ever happen.

She shuts off the water and leans close to the mirror as she continues to scrub.

“Talk to me, Em,” I say.

She shakes her head.

“How did this happen?” I ask.

A grin tugs at her lips as her face colors. “Seriously, Matt?” she asks.

I roll my eyes. “That’s not what I meant,” I say.

“I know what you meant,” she says as she turns the water back on. But her face is clean, so I think she’s just looking for something to do to keep her hands busy. “You remember when I had my wisdom teeth out a couple of months ago?”

Of course, I remember. She looked like a chipmunk for a week.

“Yeah, antibiotics,” she says. She shrugs.

“You’re happy, right?” I ask.

“I couldn’t be happier.” Her eyes meet mine, and I know she’s not lying.

I brush her bangs from her forehead and squeegee a piece of her hair with my fingertips, removing a little icing. “What’s bothering you, then?” I ask.

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “What if he or she turns out like me?” she whispers. Emily has dyslexia and is nearly illiterate. She has to work really hard to do all the things that people take for granted, like reading street signs and menus in restaurants.

“What if he or she is?” I ask softly. I want to shout at her, to tell her how fabulous she is. I want to tell her how lucky her baby will be to have a mother like Emily and a father like Logan and a whole room full of aunts and uncles who will spoil the baby rotten.

“I’m just scared,” she says. She shakes her head like she wants to shake the thought away. “I wouldn’t wish my learning disability on my worst enemy.”

“If she does, you’ll get her the help she needs to succeed.” That’s something Emily never had. She didn’t have the support. She had a father who thought she didn’t try hard enough and no one who fought for her, until she met Logan.

She looks up at me. “It’ll be all right either way, right?”

Logan lost his hearing because of a fever, so they don’t have to worry about a baby of theirs inheriting his hearing impairment. “It’ll be all right,” I say. And I don’t doubt my words, not at all. “You’re going to be a great mom, Em.”

She nods and throws the towel at my face. I catch it and toss it into the hamper along with mine. She lays a hand on her belly. “It’s hard to believe that I have a little person growing inside me,” she says softly.

I put my hands on her shoulders and follow her out of the bathroom. But I hear crying coming from Hayley’s room and head in that direction. I find Joey and Mellie standing with Hayley, and Mellie has peed in her pants.

“Uh oh,” I say. I put my finger to my lips. “Shh,” I say. “Don’t tell anyone. I’ll be right back.”

I walk out to the bag that Sky brought with her and get clean clothes for Mellie, and then go back and take her hand so I can lead her to the bathroom. I am not quite sure what to do when she doesn’t let my hand go and drags me into the bathroom with her. I let her clean herself up, and she puts on some clean clothes while I sit on the edge of the tub. This is all new to me. Well, I’ve done it with Hayley, but she lives with us and she’s my niece. Her being family makes it easier to know what to do.

I get Mellie to wash her hands and remind myself to tell her to go to the bathroom in a half hour or so. I toss her clothes into the hamper. I’ll wash them and take them back to Sky tomorrow. We walk out of the bathroom, and Mellie grins up at me and hugs my leg, just below my knee. She sits down on my foot, and I take a few steps wearing her like a boot, her clinging to me like Velcro. She thinks it’s hilarious, and the other girls want to take a turn, too.