“Okay.”
“And
nothing anybody says today changes that.”
He nodded slowly.
“But was I in her tummy?”
I felt Vanessa inhale.
“Yes,” I said.
His eyes moved to her.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Mason studied her for a long moment.
“You had twins?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“So Elliot is my brother?”
She nodded.
“Your twin brother.”
Mason blinked.
He picked up another fry.
Then put it down.
“Does he like airplanes?”
A sound escaped Vanessa that was half laugh, half sob.
“He loves trains.”
Mason frowned.
“That’s weird.”
Vanessa laughed again.
This time I did too.
It wasn’t funny.
It was completely, wonderfully ordinary.
And for one tiny moment, the giant impossible mystery around us shrank enough for a seven-year-old to understand.
A brother.
A kid who liked trains.
Someone five years old—
Wait.
I stopped.
“Vanessa.”
She looked at me.
“You said twins.”
“Yes.”
“Mason is seven.”
