The four of us went for the paint balloons and started writing down the words that we were feeling in that moment. Words that we loved. Words that we hated. Words, words, words.

Simon wrote Washington and threw it at the canvas, making the balloon burst with a vibrant blue. Even though he hated Washington, the way the paint exploded on the canvas made him smile. “That’s actually really freaking cool.”

Words that were written and exploded against the canvas:

healthy

baby

adoption

long distance

music

art

pain

tears

kicks

death

cancer

laughter

sadness

you

me

us

All the colors bled against the canvas, splattered paint everywhere. By the end of our masterpiece, the four of us had learned to laugh again as our hands managed to become covered in paint. Levi ran his fingers against my cheeks, painting my face with purple. I giggled and dressed his cheeks with greens. He picked up the last balloon and stood close to me. So close that I was certain he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. Instead, he took his marker and wrote one word on the final balloon.

There were over six hundred thousand words in the Oxford Dictionary. That meant there were six hundred thousand definitions of different words with a million and one meanings. Some words were silly while others were heartbreaking. Some words were happy while others were angry. So many different letters came together in different ways to form those different words, those unique meanings.

So many words, but at the end of the day there was only one word that stood out among the rest. One word that somehow meant both heaven and hell, the sunny days and the rainy days, the good, the bad, and the ugly. It was the one word that made sense when everything else around you was messy, painful, and unapologetic.

Love.

With a smile, I wrapped my pinkie around his and said, “I love you.”

It might not have been right for us to feel the way we did, but it was our feelings, our way. My heart exploded when his lips met my forehead, and I listened to him whisper, “I love you, too.”

37 Aria

The next day Keira and Paul sat in our living room explaining to Mom, Dad, and me how the job offer wasn’t something they’d planned. “I didn’t even know I was up for the promotion,” Paul said quietly. “And I’m so sorry you found out that way, Aria. Simon shouldn’t have told you.”

I shrugged. “I would’ve found out regardless, I guess.”

Keira placed her hands in her lap, giving me a wary smile. “I know this isn’t what we agreed on, and if it’s not something you’re comfortable with, Paul will pass on the promotion.”

“Yeah, one hundred percent.” Paul agreed. “Even though it would make us ten times more financially stable, bringing us out of years of debt and struggle.”

Keira pinched his arm, making him cringe. “But it’s not about the money. It’s about you feeling comfortable.”

I glanced at Dad and Mom, wanting them to speak up for me, to erase all of the issues and make the decisions, but I knew it was my responsibility.

Mike walked into the house laughing with James, and they paused when they saw use all sitting. Mike groaned. “Not another deep emotional baby talk.”

James’ stare shot to me, worry filling his brown eyes. “What’s going on with the baby? Is he okay?” The hitch and level of concern in his voice was alarming.

I glanced around, making sure no one had noticed his urgency before I answered. “The baby’s fine. We’re just celebrating Paul’s new job promotion in Washington.”

Keira’s hands fell to her chest and she took a breath. “We are?”

I picked at my fingernails and nodded. “Yes. Congratulations, you guys.”

James stepped closer into the room, running his fingers through his hair. “So, the baby goes to Washington? Aren’t you going to miss it, Aria? Didn’t you want it close to home?”

He was starting to sweat as he wiped his hands against his jeans. Dad turned to James and cleared his throat. “Sorry, James. This is kind of a private conversation.”

With a few blinks, James apologized. “I didn’t mean to cross any lines.”

Lines were definitely being crossed and blurred.

* * *

“You can’t seriously be letting them take the baby to Washington!” James barged into my room uninvited. He’d probably been sitting in Mike’s room waiting for a decent amount of time to pass before he announced his trip to the bathroom, which apparently happened to look remarkably like my bedroom. “You should’ve talked to me about this.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Why would I have talked to you? It’s none of your business.”

“None of my…” His jaw dropped before he rolled his hand over his mouth, flabbergasted. “He’s my kid, too!”

I dashed from my bed to close my bedroom door. “Do you want to say that a little louder? I don’t think they heard you in Canada!”

He squeezed the bridge of his nose and pushed the soles of his shoes back and forth across the room, leaving zigzags throughout the carpeted floor. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” He opened the door and left with his head lowered.

I sat down on my chair and rubbed my hands over my growing stomach. At least James and I had that in common; he didn’t have a clue what he was doing, and neither did I.