Page 27 of Anatomy of Us

Chapter 9

Zoe

Four days pass, and the shift system for watching Wesley works way better than I expected.

Hades herself made a spreadsheet. It has colors and everything. Green for available, yellow for can-cover-in-an-emergency, red for training or meetings in that time slot.

“It’s kind of obsessive, if you ask me,” Jade complains when she sees it.

This morning the shift belongs to Iris, and she looks thrilled.

She sets Wes in a corner of the field under a canopy for shade, and just in case, she hides every inch of her skin under a mountain of sunscreen.

“Day four of camp,” she tells her phone while she records a video. She pans to the baby, who chews on a rubber toy, and Iris makes another comment about how good his hair smells, pressing a hand to her chest like she’s about to faint.

It’s nap time and Wesley refuses to sleep. This week, between heat worse than he’s used to and the number of teammates who want to hold him, naps get harder and harder. Poor Iris tries everything. Bottle. Pacifier. The pink elephant plush. Whitesnake.

Nothing.

“Give him to me,” Lucía murmurs, taking the baby from Iris’s arms.

She starts to sing. Something in Spanish. A lullaby I don’t know, a melody that rises and falls like waves.

Wesley goes quiet.

He watches her. Blinks. His eyelids droop.

Three minutes. Out.

“Whoa. How the hell did you do that?” Iris says, eyes wide. “You sing a little and boom, best friends.”

“My grandma used to sing it to me when I had nightmares,” Lucía says, rocking him slow.

“What do the lyrics say?”

“That the moon watches kids who behave.” Lucía doesn’t even flinch. “And kids who don’t behave get eaten by a wolf.”

“Jesus,” Iris complains, rubbing the back of her neck. “Spain is a little dramatic.”

Lucía shrugs.

Wesley sighs in his sleep.

“Why do you smell his head all the time?” Tina asks. She’s one of the younger players who come with us to camp.

“Because it’s like a drug,” Iris says, like this is obvious. “It smells like heaven.”

“It’s the baby shampoo,” Tina argues.

“No.” Iris leans in and smells Wes again. “It’s magic. Baby magic. It opened my eyes to a whole world of smells I didn’t know existed.”

Mid-afternoon, while Hades gathers us to explain a set piece, we all crowd around her, but I can’t stop myself from checking on my kid.

Tina takes a photo while he sleeps, framing Hades and the players in the background and leaving Iris out, even though Iris lies on the ground right next to Wes like a bodyguard.

“Méndez,” my coach snaps, dragging me back. “Are you with us or on the moon?”

**