on Peter's Hill

Friday afternoon I drove to Bit's house. I gave her a late/early Mother's Day gift, and then we spent a good half hour cooing over the small collection of clothes and linens she has acquired so far for the baby. "I'm so glad you're as excited as I am," she said laughing as I marveled over the box of colorful reusable diapers. Then we made our way to Java Jo's in Jamaica Plain, bought fruit and sandwiches and climbed Peter's Hill in the Arboretum with our picnic lunch.

We sat, surrounded by trees and birds on a stone at the top of the hill. Nearby two high school boys were sharing a "forty," but quietly.

We looked out over the Boston skyline. It crawled with heat waves. As we sunned we talked about our lives, her boyfriend, my job. It's hard to believe we met when we were seven years old. The baby inside of her pushed hard and she pressed her hand to her middle. "I know they can't pinch, but it feels like that's what he's doing," she said. The city buildings sparkled in the sunlight, and wind cooled our backs. I put my hand where Bit told me his head was and felt it, smiling.

Years ago Sven joked that if she ever had a baby he'd nickname it "son of a Bit." This baby is bringing us all closer together than we've been in years.
And the son of a Bit doesn't even know it yet!