If I Tell

chin. “Well, glad we’ve got that little detail established. Anything else you want to know?”
    The nurse glowered as she grabbed Mom’s wrist, placed two fingers on it, and lifted her other hand with the wristwatch on to take Mom’s pulse.
    “I don’t think it’s the lack of marriage she disapproves of,” I said. “She doesn’t like white people who don’t stick to their own kind. Or the babies that result.”
    Mom collapsed farther into her pillows. “Jaz. Don’t make trouble.”
    The nurse’s bright red face reminded me of a circus clown. She dropped my mom’s hand and wrapped the blood-pressure kit around her arm.
    “I’m not making trouble. She’s prejudiced.”
    “I’m not.” She glared at me. “Excuse me. I have to take her blood pressure.”
    I was glad my pressure wasn’t being checked. It would be off the charts.
    “I’ll bring you a robe so you can get up to see the baby,” the nurse said to my mom.
    She deflated farther into her pillows. “No. I can’t. Not yet.”
    “You need to move around, and your baby needs you.” The nurse’s voice radiated disapproval. She tapped her nails on the blood-pressure pump.
    “She said she can’t right now,” I interrupted, my voice overly high pitched. Playing grown-up was hard work.
    The nurse made a noise in her throat as she made notes in Mom’s chart and then gathered her equipment and hurried out of the room.
    My mom sat up, wiping under her eyes. “You’re doing my dirty work for me now. I’m a terrible mother.”
    “No, you’re not. You need to rest. Don’t let that mean nurse bully you.”
    She sniffled. “I can’t even bear to see the baby right now. I don’t deserve a baby. He’s better off without me in there. Simon can look after him better than I can.”
    “You’re just tired, Mom.” I grabbed a Kleenex box from a small table at the end of her bed, and then Simon rushed into the room, sucking all the oxygen from it. My cheeks warmed, remembering the last time I’d seen him. I handed my mom tissues and moved away, leaning back against the windowsill.
    “He’s doing great, Tara.” Simon bent down and kissed her cheek. “He’s going to be okay.”
    “I know,” Mom answered, her eerie voice stripped of emotion.
    “Hey, Slugger.” Simon winked. “So you’re a big sister.”
    “Congratulations,” I said formally.
    His grin was as wide as his face. “I’m a dad!” He rushed forward and grabbed me, lifting me up and spinning me in a circle. Apparently he’d forgiven me. I wished I could say the same. I went rigid, waiting to be put down, but Simon didn’t seem to notice. Finally he plopped me down.
    “He’s small and he’s early, but he’s going to be okay.” He grinned as if he’d done something really amazing.
    I tried not to smile but gave in.
    “You want to meet him?” he asked me. He glanced at Mom. “Is that okay, Tara? Can I take Jaz down to see him? You can stay here and rest.”
    I shook my head, but Mom nodded, almost disappearing into her pillows and closing her eyes again.
    “Come on.” Simon leaned over and kissed Mom’s cheek and then grabbed my hand and pulled. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to your brother. Get some sleep, Tara. I’ll take Jaz to meet our baby.”
    Before I could protest, he tugged me out of the room. “I’m sorry about the other day, Jaz. I understand why you blew up at me. Your dad—and then me, all complaining about your mom, and well, I’m sorry. I should never have said anything to you. It was stupid.” He dragged me along. “Let’s forget it, okay?”
    He babbled on, giving me too many details about my mom’s water breaking at work and her fast delivery, her pushing starting in the car. When we reached the neonatal room, his voice lowered.
    “He’s in the NICU. Some of the babies inside are really small, but he won’t be here for long. The nurses and doctor are concerned about his liver. But he’ll be okay. Come on. He’s over here.”
    He tugged me past some heartbreakingly fragile babies attached to tangled wires, tubes, and IVs. The room was a blur of machines, lights, and alarms.
    “That’s him.” He pointed inside an incubator.
    I gasped. I gazed down at my tiny brother. Patches of kinky black hair covered his teeny head, which seemed too big for his thin body. Little probes poked into his dark skin. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his head lay sideways as if breathing was a challenge for someone so little. My heart melted