The women straighten, lean toward us. Their noble faces betray nostalgia. Fingers tap and encourage. The heat lifts up like a sheet in the wind. He's just singing to these strangers on the train.
Weeks go by.
We celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas. We kiss him on the forehead at twelve precisely, New Year's Eve. Jeremy and I are alone until dinner. Just Jeremy and me, his skin against my skin, his curiosity and intellect bursting. I breathe him in until my green eyes tear with the burn of too much loving.