I fell asleep soon after. A tiny baby boy in my arms, swaddled the softest blue cotton, smiling and content in the shade under our oak tree, saturated my dreams. He smiled, his bright blue-gray eyes glimmering in the summer sun. His pinky finger was no longer than my pinky nail, and I kept kissing his hands over and over, unable to feel his skin against my lips enough times.

Time passed quickly there. Before the end of the day, he was a toddler, and then grade-school age. He didn’t appear older than he was, like Bex always had. He was perfectly human, and yet flawlessly beautiful like his father. By the time the shadow under the oak had faded, my son was a man, as tall and distinguished as Jared. I watched all of this in awe, but a little sad at the same time. It had gone by too fast. I wanted more time with him. I wanted to start over. A strange mixture of pride and sadness surged through me, and I remembered how just a few hours ago I was pregnant with him.

The shade now a shadow, my son walked over to me and held out his hand. He looked so much like his father. “It’s time,” he said with a small smile. My smile.

“Time for what?”

“The end.”

My eyes popped open. Jared had left his seat, and I could hear him conversing with Bex and Kim somewhere in the back of the plane. I rubbed my eyes, and turned to my right. Samuel sat across from me, his massive frame nearly too large for the seat.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“I did, actually.”

He smiled. “I know. I was just being polite.”

“Oh. Right.” I maneuvered my body out of my seat, stretching.

Jared’s eyes met mine, and he stood, moving to the side.

“Again?” Bex teased.

“Yes, Bex. I’m pregnant. When you have a full-grown infant doing a handstand on your bladder, I’ll keep track of how many bathroom breaks you take, mmk?” I waddled down the aisle, passing Ryan and Claire, who didn’t seem to notice my presence. I noticed that Ryan’s pinky was overlapping Claire’s however, and she wasn’t beating him to a bloody pulp for it. I smiled, and made my way to the lavatory.

I opened the door and frowned. I felt like Winnie the Pooh trying to squeeze into the honey tree. I looked down the aisle, meeting the inquisitive eyes of my husband. “I always feel I’m going to get stuck in there.”

Jared laughed. “If you do, I’ll get you out.”

Bex held up a white bottle. “I have lotion. That should help.”

I rolled my eyes and made my first attempt to navigate the small space.

Without event—or lotion—I returned to my seat, but not without the irritating snickering of Kim and Bex.