“Don’t look at me either,” Solange says. “It’s kind of hard to take care of babies when you’re traveling all over the country.”

Well, there’s part of the answer, I guess: Kids aren’t in her immediate plans. But apart from that, it finally dawns on me that Solange is leaving at the end of the summer, and the first day of August is literally tomorrow. This is how it was always going to play out, right? So why does that feel like such a big deal? And isn’t it a big fucking deal that it feels like a big deal? Holy fuck, someone bludgeon me, please.

The sound of a person’s hurried footsteps saves me from drowning in my own mental quicksand. Within seconds, Paulo and Viviane appear at the threshold, both wearing hospital gowns and caps. “It’s a boy!” they exclaim in unison.

Everyone gathers around the new dad and grandmother and fires off more questions than they can handle:

“How’s Natalia?”

“Did she curse up a storm in there?”

“What’s the baby’s name?”

“Is the baby okay?”

“When can we see him?”

That last question comes from me. I’m just as excited as everyone else to see the newest member of the family. This has always been a part of my plan: to welcome a child into my life. I want to make new traditions. Provide them with a warm and safe place to rest their head. Nurture their dreams. Do silly shit like make blanket forts or leave cookies out for Santa. I didn’t do much of that growing up. But my kid’s childhood will be different from mine. I’ll make sure of it.

Paulo puts up a hand to quiet everyone. “Natalia’s doing great. She did brilliantly in there. The baby’s name is Sebastian, and he’ll be brought out to the nursery in a little bit.” He scrubs a hand down his face, his expression turning serious. “Even though I couldn’t get to Natalia fast enough, I never doubted she’d be okay because all of you were there for her. So thank you.”

I can’t help envying how Paulo has been embraced by this family. If I were in his place, I’m not sure many people would have risen to the occasion the way Solange and her relatives did tonight. My mother’s a rolling stone, and if her latest adventure is any guide, she isn’t changing course any time soon. Max would be there for me, no question—and I’m certainly grateful for his friendship—but seeing this family coalesce around Sebastian’s birth reminds me that I have very few people in my corner. I look over at Solange, imagining what it would be like to count her among the people who’d have my back if I needed them.