1: 1
On our son's fifth birthday, the husband who was supposed to pick him up came home alone.
"Where's Jerome Fox? You didn't go get him from preschool?"
"Today's his birthday. I promised him I'd be the first one there to pick him up."
I was untying my apron at my waist as I spoke.
"Never mind, never mind. You can't do anything right. I'll go myself."
"Oh, and there's corn and short rib soup on the stove, Jerome's favorite. Watch the heat, don't let it boil dry."
Just as I was about to pull the front door open, I heard my husband's puzzled voice behind me.
"Preschool? What are you going to the preschool for?"
I turned around, a little startled.
"To pick up our son. He isn't home yet. Where else would I go?"
"Unless his grandparents already got him today? Honestly, my parents should've told me first."
I was reaching for my phone to call them when my husband looked at me, his face full of alarm.
"What son? What preschool?"
"We've been child-free for seven years. Where would a son come from?"
1
I froze right where I stood, one shoe half on, unable to make any sense of what Barret Fox was saying.
"Our son, Jerome. Did work fry your brain today or something?"
"Okay, okay, stop joking. It's Jerome's birthday. I already bought the cake, it's in the fridge."
Barret let out a small laugh, as if he thought I was the one joking.
"Quit messing around, Jocelyn. Let me bring the food out. Let's just eat."
"You have no idea how tired I am today."
The unease inside me only grew.
Seven years of marriage. I knew Barret. The way he looked right now, this wasn't him joking.
"Barret, what is wrong with you? Jerome is our son. He turned five today. He's in the middle class at Westside preschool."
"Child-free? I was never child-free. I got pregnant one year after we got married."
Barret stopped mid-step on his way to the kitchen, a flash of irritation on his face.
"Jocelyn, the same joke stops being funny after a while."
"I really am exhausted from work today. Can we just eat first, please?"
A huge wave of unease swept through me.
I strode right up to Barret and pointed toward the wall above the couch, my voice rising.
"Isn't that Jerome? What are you even talking about?"
"Look, this is the family photo we took when Jerome was one..."
The moment my eyes landed on the spot where our family photo used to hang, my voice cut off.
The photo of the three of us was gone. In its place hung a wedding portrait of just me and Barret.
Barret rubbed the space between his brows, exasperated.
"Jocelyn, what has gotten into you?"
"Stop this, please. I really don't have time to..."
But I couldn't take in a word of it. My head went off with a roar.
I refused to believe it. I lunged into the bedroom and started tearing through everything.
"The albums? Where are the albums?"
"Jerome's albums. Every year on his birthday I take him to get photos done. I kept all the albums."
Barret didn't try to stop me. He just stood off to the side, watching me come apart.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
The place where I knew I'd kept our son's albums was empty now. The drawer held nothing but a few wedding albums of me and Barret.
I froze there, at a loss for how to face any of this.
Seeing me finally go still, Barret crouched down in front of me, worn out.
"Enough, Jocelyn. Have you had your fun yet?"
Tears fell from my eyes in heavy drops, and my hands started shaking beyond my control.
How could this be?
Barret and I dated for three years, married for seven.
The second year of our marriage I got pregnant and had Jerome without any trouble.
After getting pregnant I quit my job, and after the baby came I stayed home to take care of him full-time. I hadn't worked in five years.
That was a child I raised with my own two hands. How could he just vanish into thin air?
I looked up at Barret.
"Have you forgotten? Jerome. He's our son. He's already five."
"He's such a good boy. He loves his superheroes and his Transformers, he's allergic to mango, and every day he wraps himself around your leg calling you Daddy."
"When I had him I almost couldn't deliver. They had to switch to a C-section. Have you really forgotten all of it?"
Barret's patience had reached its limit.
"Jocelyn Summers, what is the matter with you today? And who is this Jerome?"
"We don't have a child. We never had a child."
"You..."
Seeing that Barret still didn't believe a word I said, I staggered to my feet and ran for the door.
"I'll go get him. I'll go pick Jerome up from school."
"Westside preschool. I'm going right now."
