The Moment Keeper. Buffy Andrews

he catches her and keeps her from falling.

      Tom continues to work with Olivia, moving farther and farther from her. She takes high marching steps, lifting her knees, then jabbing the floor with her tiny feet. Eventually, she toddles to Tom and falls into his open arms. She seems surprised that she was able to walk that far without falling. She giggles some more.

      “Good girl, Libby. Good girl.” He hugs her and kisses her freshly bathed head. “Wait until Mommy sees what we’ve been working on. She’s going to be so proud of you.”

      Just yesterday, Olivia had pulled herself up and walked around the coffee table while holding onto it for the first time. Today, she finally gets the nerve to let go.

      Tom scoops her up and sits on the couch and reads her a book before tucking her into bed.

      I don’t think Matt ever did anything with me. If he had loved me an eighth of what Tom loves Olivia, maybe things would have been different. But you can’t make someone love you. Believe me, I tried. I tried to be good all of the time. Do everything I was told. But Matt was always so angry. Even when I learned to walk and Grandma was so proud of me the only thing on Matt’s mind was how my newfound freedom made me even more of a pain in the ass.

      “Can’t you keep her in one room?” Matt asked Grandma one day.

      “Matt, she’s not an animal that you can cage. It’s natural for her to want to explore.”

      “Well, I don’t need her exploring and getting into my stuff.”

      “Then close your bedroom door. Besides, maybe she just wants to be near you.”

      “Well, I don’t want to be near her. Keep her out of my room, out of my stuff.”

      “Why don’t you just move out if you’re that miserable?” Grandma said.

      “Don’t worry, when I can afford to I will.”

      Elizabeth holds up princess-themed party invitations. “How about this, Libby?”

      Olivia sits in the grocery cart gnawing on a red plastic teething ring. Her yellow bib is soaked from her drool.

      “Princess invitations for a princess,” Elizabeth says as she puts them in the cart. “After all, you only turn one once.”

      Elizabeth finds the coordinating tableware and tosses plates, cups, napkins, tablecloths, a centerpiece, utensils, pink and white streamers and other party decorations into the cart. She then orders a balloon bouquet for the big day, selecting a huge princess balloon along with several Mylar balloons and a few latex ones.

      “She’s cute,” the clerk tells Elizabeth.

      “Thank you.”

      “Love her curly hair. Guess she gets that from her father.”

      Elizabeth, whose hair is straight as straw, smiles. “Actually, we’re not sure where she gets it from.”

      “That’s like me,” the clerk says. “I was born without two adult teeth. My dentist said it’s a congenital thing, usually hereditary. But Mom doesn’t know anyone in the family who’s missing two teeth.”

      “So what did you do?” Elizabeth asks.

      “About what?”

      “The teeth.”

      “Oh. Got implants, and they were way expensive. Mom said she’s spent a mint on my mouth.”

      “Well, they look nice,” Elizabeth says. “You have a great smile. I would never have known your teeth weren’t real.”

      “Thanks.”

      Olivia’s teething ring falls on the floor. Elizabeth picks it up and puts it in her purse and pulls out another one from the diaper bag to give her.

      “I hope she’s not missing any teeth,” the clerk says.

      Elizabeth smiles. “Me, too. I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. There’s some things I guess you just don’t know.”

      “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Sarah. Happy birthday to you.”

      Grandma placed the cake she had baked in front of me. It had vanilla icing and she decorated it with sprinkles and a big candle in the shape of the numeral one. It was just me and Grandma. There were no aunts or uncles or cousins. Grandma had no family. And there was no Matt.

      Grandma snapped photos as I dug my baby fingers into the cake.

      “Taste the icing, Sarah,” she said. “Mmm, good.”

      I started to tear up. Icing dripped from my hands. I didn’t like being messy. Grandma took a swipe of the icing with her index finger and put it up to my mouth. I tasted the sweet icing and realized the stuff on my fingers was good. Real good. I licked the icing off my fingers and dug them back into the cake and licked them clean again and again.

      Grandma laughed. “That’s my girl. Get messy. Enjoy it. You’re one.”

      I had cake and icing in my hair and all over my face. Grandma waited until I was good and messy and the cake was wrecked before removing it from the tray on my high chair.

      “Do you ever think about her mother?” Elizabeth asks Tom.

      “I try not to,” Tom says. “I mean, I’m grateful we have Libby, but I don’t understand how her mother could do what she did.”

      “Do you worry that we don’t know anything about her mother?”

      “Like what?”

      “Oh, I don’t know. Like if she was born without two adult teeth.”

      Tom tilts his head and scrunches his eyes so his eyebrows almost meet in the middle. “What are you talking about?”

      Elizabeth shifts in her seat. “The clerk at the party store told me she was born without two adult teeth. Said it was congenital.”

      “So?”

      “Well, it just got me thinking. We don’t know the birth mother’s health history. What if Libby’s missing two of her adult teeth or…?”

      “Look, Liz. We can’t worry about what we don’t know. If Libby is missing two adult teeth, then we’ll get her two. Simple as that. Whatever Libby faces, we’ll be there to help her. No matter what that might be.”

      “I love you,” Elizabeth tells Tom. “Thanks for putting up with my worrying self.”

      Tom kisses her. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t worry. But worry about the things you can control, not the things you can’t. Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

      “You missed your daughter’s first birthday,” Grandma told Matt as he stumbled into the kitchen. He popped a handful of aspirin into his mouth and chased them with a swig of black coffee.

      “Sorry. I forgot.”

      “That collection department called again,” Grandma said. “You better call them back.”

      Matt didn’t answer.

      “Have any interviews lined up?”

      Matt shook his head.

      “You need to find something, Matt. You’ve got bills to pay.”

      “Christ, Mom. Can’t I just eat breakfast in peace for once?”

      He looked at me in my high chair eating Cheerios.

      “Da. Da.” I pinched a Cheerio and offered it to him.

      Matt’s eyes became glassy. He held out his palm and I placed the Cheerio in it. His lips mashed into a limp smile, and he slid the Cheerio into his jeans pocket.

      He didn’t realize that Grandma was watching. She placed her hand over her heart and a tear slipped from the corner of her