Ways to Grow Love

Nothing is the same now that Mom is pregnant, everything has changed. Before school let out for summer, Ms. Colby said to my class, “Have a great summer. I hope you have fun and that it’s full of special moments. I can’t wait to hear all about it next school year.” The way summer is going, I won’t have any great or fun or special moments to share because all the summer plans we made aren’t happening. Well, they are happening, but not the way they are supposed to. Mom can’t even work her booth at Saturday Market, so Amanda and I won’t be there on weekends helping out and walking the aisles searching for trinkets and getting our snow cones. Since Mom and Millie share a booth, Millie offered to sell Mom’s products so she can still make money even though she can’t be at the market.
This new baby has rearranged everyone’s schedule. Today, Mom promised to take me to the library so I can check out some of the books from the summer reading list that Ms. Colby handed out on the last day of school. But now she can’t take me because she has morning sickness-even though it is the afternoon. Grandma is on her way to pick me up. She said she doesn’t have a lot of time, but she can squeeze it in as long as I promise to be quick.
But who can be quick in a wonderland of words and pictures?
It’s not that I don’t like spending time with Grandma, it’s just that Mom and I go to the library at the end of every school year and we pick out books and have a book club, just the two of us. And every time we go to the library together, Mom points out the books she loved when she was my age and we always sit and start reading one of them before we leave. It’s been a whole week and we haven’t gone yet.
“I’ll go with you next time, Ryan,” Mom says. But I know she can’t be sure of that. This isn’t the first time she’s changed the plans at the last minute, and she always says it’s because of the baby. Just when I was starting to get excited about having a little sister, she goes and ruins my summer plans. Everyone keeps telling me things will be different once the baby is here, but she’s not even out of my momma’s belly and already she’s changed everything.
Grandma rings the doorbell, and I run to answer it. “Well, hello, hello. You ready to go pick out some books? Got your list?” She kisses my forehead, and I run to my room to get the list off my nightstand. I am ready to go, but when I come back to the living room, Grandma is rubbing Momma’s belly. “And how are we doing?” she asks.
Mom sighs. “We are feeling seasick.”
Grandma goes into the kitchen, says, “Ryan, give me a minute. I’m not quite ready to leave yet,” and she takes saltine crackers out of the cabinet, puts a few on a small plate. “Bring this to your mom.”
I put my list down on the coffee table, go into the kitchen, and take the plate of crackers. While I bring it to Mom, Grandma starts making peppermint tea.
We wait for the water to boil and then for the teabag to steep. If we keep waiting like this, I wonder if all the books I want will be checked out by the time I get to the library. Ms. Colby gave that list to all of her students, and I am sure that other teachers gave out summer reading recommendations to their classes, too. If all the rising fifth graders in my neighborhood are going to the North Portland Library to check out books from the lists, I might not even get one today.
Finally, the tea is ready, and Grandma sweetens it just a little with a teaspoon of honey. She takes the mug to Mom, and when she sets it on the table, she rubs Mom’s hand and says, “This will help.” And she sounds just like Mom when Mom makes me chicken noodle soup when I am sick. She has that same look in her eyes that Mom has when I have a fever or a bellyache or a really bad cold that stuffs up my nose and makes my throat burn. Maybe all mothers look like this when their children aren’t feeling well.
“All right, Ryan, ready?”
I’ve been ready. “Yes, ma’am.”
We both hug Mom and say goodbye.
The North Portland Library isn’t crowded at all, and I feel bad for rushing Grandma because there are plenty of books to choose from-so many, I have a hard time deciding which ones I want to take home first. Grandma says, “Just choose one, honey, you have all summer to come back and get more. It doesn’t matter which one you read first.”
“Well, usually I pick out a whole bunch of books, as many as I can carry in my arms. Mom helps me read the first page of each book and then we decide,” I tell her. “She lets me check out three at a time.”
Grandma skims over the books on the shelf and says, “We don’t have time for all of that today, sweetheart.” She picks one up and says, “How about this one?”
I don’t even look it over, I just say yes since Grandma is in such a hurry. When we get to the counter, the librarian, Ms. Adair, says, “Only one today, Miss Ryan?”
“Yes, just one today. But I’ll be back for more.”
“I sure hope so. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on the Summer Reading Challenge. There are all kinds of prizes.” Ms. Adair hands me a brochure that lists all the prizes and the guidelines for participating in the challenge. Then she gives me something that looks like the bingo sheets Grandma and her friends use when they have game night, except this sheet has reading prompts that we can check off during the month. She gives me one for July and one for August. I look them over, and already I know I have to come back as soon as Mom is feeling better because I want to get every box checked. There’s extra points for that.
“Come on, Ryan, let’s get you home,” Grandma says. “Thank you, Ms. Adair.”
“Anytime.”
On the way home, Grandma says, “I know you’re disappointed about not being able to stay longer, but this is all a part of being a big sister now. You’re going to have to make some adjustments and sacrifices.”
I know, I know.
When we get to my house, I know Grandma must really be in a rush, because she doesn’t even get out of the car. She kisses me on my cheek and tells me, “I won’t drive off until I see you go inside the house.” She never, ever does that.
I get out of the car, thank Grandma, and walk up to my house. Ray answers the door, waves to Grandma, and she pulls off knowing I am safe.
When I step into the living room, the first thing Mom says is, “What adventure are we going on?” and she reaches for the book.
“Grandma only let me pick out one,” I tell her.
Mom rubs her belly. “We’ll get more, sweetheart. We will.” “I hope so, because I want to win!” I show Mom the Summer Reading Challenge bingo sheets.
Mom hardly even looks at them. She smiles. “Every time you talk, the baby kicks.”
“Really?” I ask.
Mom takes my hand and places it on her belly. And then I
feel my baby sister waving hello.
“She’s moving, she’s moving!” “I know,” Mom says. “She must like your voice.”
I sit on the sofa next to Mom, tuck my feet under myself, and get real close. My baby sister likes the sound of my voice. I don’t know if I will ever stop smiling over this.
The thing everyone tells me about being a big sister is that I’m going to have to share and sacrifice, and help out more, and live up to my name by being a leader and setting an example. But no one told me anything about how it would feel the first time I put my hand on my mom’s belly, that I would feel my little sister waving hello. No one told me how it would feel to know that my baby sister already wants to play with me. I want to play with her too, and hold her, and teach her all the things I know. And so even though she’s the reason Mom couldn’t come with me to the library, and even though she’s the reason so much is changing, changing, I snuggle up close to Mom, open my book, and start reading out loud, and take my mom and my baby sister on an adventure.