(Jessamine’s POV) I inhaled to smell the sweet scent of fresh air in Adilene’s from the porch, but instead, I caught the whiff of the aroma of the coffee bean Mom was grinding from her hand-cranked grinder. I glanced at the crib, checking on Kyle. A while ago, he played with his toes, putting them in his mouth. Perhaps he thought of them as built-in toys. This time, he rolled over, reaching the tail of the giraffe stuffed toy.Kyle just turned four months, but he could do many things—normal baby stuff. He could bear weight on his legs when sitting upright, rolling over, grabbing toys or Charlie’s fur, and babbling a combo of vowel and consonant letters. When I asked him something, and he didn’t cry, it was up to me to decide what it meant. Deborah and my mom thought differently. My friend bet that when Kyle reached the age of six months, he could count numbers and recite the alphabet. Mom proudly told her he was probably like me, a history of my life she now loved to retell.‘Jess
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