Alien Proliferation

to know, either way.”
    He nodded, kissed Jamie on her head, kissed me full on the mouth, hugged my mom tightly, then zipped out of the room.
    Mom came over and sat where Jeff had been. “How are you doing?”
    “Fine. A little tired. Breastfeeding is pretty cool. Oh, and Jeff implanted blocks into the baby.”
    “Good, good.” Mom stroked my hair. She also seemed really distracted.
    “Mom? What’s going on?” She wasn’t looking at Jamie; she wasn’t asking what we’d named her, nothing. Something was off.
    She pulled me into her arms and gave me her by-now-legendary breath-stopping bear hug. “I thought we’d lost you forever.” I realized my mother was crying.
    This knowledge instantly freaked me out. I’d been too busy earlier to have the fact that my parents and Jeff’s parents had been crying in the delivery room register as anything other than a part of the general confusion. But I hadn’t seen my mother cry much in my life. Mom was always the one taking care of problems, handling emergencies, holding other people while they cried. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is Dad okay?”
    She gave a strangled laugh. “Well, yes, we’re both okay now that our only child has come back from the dead.”
    “I don’t remember the dying thing.”
    “You did. You flatlined. We saw it. Christopher was hysterical when he came to get us and Alfred and Lucinda. I don’t know how he managed to be calm for Jeff while he was in the room with you, but thank God he did.”
    I managed to get an arm around her and hugged her back. “Mom, you’re kind of scaring me right now. I’m fine, you can relax.”
    She hugged me tighter. “I am relaxing.”
    “Air . . . need air . . . relax the hug . . .”
    Mom let go, though she kept her arm around me. “Well, you certainly sound like there was no harm done,” she said dryly.
    “There wasn’t. Tito said I didn’t even tear. Down there, I mean.”
    “I know what it means. How nice for your sex life. At any rate, I just wanted to tell you that I’m so thankful you’re still with us, kitten.” She hugged me one-armed and kissed my forehead. “I love you so much and I’m so proud of you, and I really thought I’d never get to tell you that ever again.”
    I decided arguing that I hadn’t died was stupid. I’d almost never seen my mother this emotional and, as sluggish memory finally served, she was only like this when the people she loved most were in a danger she couldn’t prevent or protect them from. “I’m fine now, Mom. Not leaving you and Dad for a long time. I promise.”
    “Good.” She kissed my head again. “I’m going to go home.”
    “Why? You haven’t even really seen the baby yet.”
    Mom sighed. “Your father and I went home after you . . . gave birth. We just . . . needed to be in your room, see your things, be alone without having to try to be brave or supportive or any other emotion for anyone else. Your father’s still there—he didn’t feel that he could see you right now and not break down in front of you and potentially upset you and the baby, let alone Jeff.”
    Wow. My parents were wrecks. I felt hugely guilty for no good reason, but guilty nonetheless. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to upset you and Dad like this.”
    She gave a strangled laugh. “Kitten, there’s no woman in the world who wants to die in childbirth. It happens, even to the healthiest and those with the best medical care. I’m just thankful God gave you back to all of us.”
    There was something about that, what she’d said, that I felt I really and truly ought to remember. But nothing came. “Well, me too. You want some grandma time while you’re here?”
    She stroked Jamie’s head. “No, not right now. I want to get home and reassure your father that you’re really okay. I want both of us to calm down, so that when we see you again, we’re the parents you’re used to.”
    “I’m all for everyone getting back to normal as soon as humanly possible.” I thought about it. “And alienly possible.”
    Mom chuckled. “You certainly seem like you’re back to normal.” She hugged me again. “Love you, kitten. Try to relax and enjoy this next phase of your life.”
    “Especially since I’m here to have it.”
    Mom sighed. “Yes. And thank you for proving that it was a good thing I left your father at home.” Mom’s sarcasm knob was turning. She wasn’t at eleven, or even close to it yet, but it was clear that eleven would