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“But Mama…” He counts on his fingers using all of them. “There are one five ten of us. You, me, and Dino.”

“No, there are four,” says Demyan. “Three plus one more is four.”

“Four?” he repeats, looking perplexed.

“He doesn’t quite have the hang of counting.”

“He’s two, give him a break, Mama,” Demyan says, putting him down.

“Yeah, Mama. Break me.”

I swallow laughter at Sasha mangling the words.

But Demyan gravely goes down on his knees next to Sasha and motions for me to sit. I do.

“Four is you, me, mama, and the baby.”

He frowns. “My goat?”

“That’d be five,” Demyan mutters, then catches the shake of my head. “No,” he says a little louder, “the baby makes four. I know you wanted a kitten or a puppy, but we’re having something better. A baby.”

“Where?”

He takes Sasha’s small hand and puts it on my tummy. “It’s very, very small, much smaller than your smallest car, but it’s growing, here in mama’s tummy.”

“You have a baby, Mama?”

“Yeah, Sasha. There’s a baby growing inside me.”

“How?”

Demyan opens his mouth, looking horrified, and is about to say something but I cut him off.

“In nine months you’ll be a big brother.”

“Me?” He’s immediately interested. “Can I make the baby play?”

“One day, yes, but first you’re going to help mama and we’ll go shopping and you can pick out things for the baby.” Demyan says this like it’s a good idea. All I can imagine are pink trucks and baby goat plushies.

“A big brother is a very important job, Sasha,” I say.

He thinks about it, then he smiles. “I want the baby now!”

Sasha’s chosenice cream is truly disgusting, with gummies and sprinkles and chocolate sauce.

He’s covered in it by the time we reach the park, the one Demyan took him to when I went to the doctor and I think they’re both showing off with the swings and slide and other equipment.

Actually, I don’t know who’s having more fun, Demyan or Sasha. And it makes my heart light and full and sing.

I cleaned my son with wet wipes as best I could and I’m left on the bench—my choice—holding the dripping, melting remnants of Sasha’s treat. I could have joined them, but I wanted Demyan to have this moment with Sasha, and to witness it is something special.

I can almost see the bond’s thread growing stronger by the second.

When they come back, Demyan motions me to comeover, so I walk to them with the drippy ice cream for Sasha, who plonks down immediately to finish it.

“Good, huh?” Demyan asks as he sprawls next to me, hand resting on my thigh like it’s the most natural thing.

Sasha glances up and nods. “Yummy.” Then he takes in the fact that we don’t have one and he reluctantly holds his up. “Dino want?”