“I have a better idea.” Danielle set down the plate with a thick turkey sandwich, then sat across from him, with a growing smile. “How about I stop working for Bob and take care of Emily until you get back?”
“Really?” Mike asked, surprised. “How would that work? Can you take off for a month?”
“Yes. Look, I love my job, and I loved helping build the firm, but I also love Emily and I feel as if she needs me now, now that Chloe is gone.” Danielle’s expression darkened, falling into the sad lines of last night, and the folds around her mouth deepened. “The more I think about it, the more I think Emily should be with family, full-time, until you come home.”
“That’s such a kind offer, but I would never presume to ask you. It’s a whole month you’d be out of the office.”
“You’re not asking me, and I adore that child. She’s so much fun, and she’s supersmart.”
“What makes you say that? Love, bias, or both?” Mike took a bite of his sandwich, which was delicious.
“Besides her incredible genetics? I mean, her daddy’s a doctor.”
Mike smiled, flattered. “Does she say any words yet?”
“Not really, but she babbles. She picks things up so quickly, and she asks for information. At the zoo, she’ll point at an animal, as if she’s asking you to name it.” Danielle’s eyes lit up. “She loves giraffes, and we got her a stuffed giraffe that plays music. I think babies know more than we give them credit for.”
“Ha! Everybody knows more than we give them credit for.”
“And she’s so active, and you can see she really wants to walk. She’s unbelievably cute, isn’t she? Apropos of nothing, but she is.” Danielle’s face shone with warmth. “I’d love to be home with her, all day. It’s the least I can do for my sister. She’d do it for me, and I know she’d want it this way.”
Mike felt a pang, knowing that was true. “But really, what does Bob say? Can he spare you at work?”
“Yes, and he’s all for it. He wants what’s best for Emily, too.” Danielle nodded toward the toys in the family room. “We’re all set up for her, and her crib is here. She loves us and she’s used to being here. Why introduce a third party to her now, when she’ll already have so much to adjust to? It’s only until you come home.” Danielle’s eyes turned plaintive. “Let me do this, for Chloe, Emily, and for you.”
“That’s so amazing of you.” Mike felt his heart ease. “You would have to let me pay you.”
“I wouldn’t hear of it.”
“No, really. We’ll fight over that later.”
“You’ll lose. I always get what I want.”
Mike smiled. Danielle was funny and smart, but tougher than Chloe, with a logical mind. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes, totally. You know, this is an impossible time for you, and for me, but most of all for Emily. She lost the best mother ever.”
“Chloe was, you think?” Mike had never doubted Chloe as a mother, but his world turned upside-down last night. “I always thought she was, but now—”
“Stop.” Danielle’s mouth set firmly. “Chloe was a wonderful mother, even if she indulged a little, I know. She was devoted to Emily, and don’t blow this drinking thing out of proportion. She wasn’t with the baby the day she died, and I’m sure she didn’t drink when Emily was with her.”
Mike thought of the Dunkin’ Donuts cup and the hidden vodka bottles, then remembered he wasn’t supposed to say anything. “Why do you think she drank? Was she unhappy?”
“She didn’t drink. She missed you, I know, and I’d understand if she had a drink or two. We grew up with wine at the table, and I have a glass or two, every night. It doesn’t mean I’m an alcoholic, and Chloe wasn’t either.” Danielle shook her head. “She just had an accident while she was drinking, which was terrible, terrible luck.”
Mike let it go. The sisters had been close, but Danielle was the conservative one, and Chloe might have edited what she told her, so Mike changed the subject. “Do you think Emily misses her?”
“I’m sure she does, and it breaks my heart. She doesn’t say Mommy yet, but she tries.” Danielle bit her lip. “But the good thing is, Emily’s used to being with me. I used to go with them to music class on Saturdays, too. Chloe and the other moms would play recorders and xylophones for the babies, or shake maracas.”
Mike thought of a photo that Chloe had emailed him, of Emily and the other moms and babies, wearing sombreros at music class. He didn’t understand how such a good mother could be such a bad mother, both at once.
“I think Emily deserves that kind of attention, and you can’t buy that. It’s love. It’s love of family.” Danielle gestured at the laptop. “I know I sprung this on you, and you don’t have to tell me now. Mull it over. It’s a standing offer.”
Mike felt reassured, and grateful. “You would’ve made one helluva lawyer.”
“That’s what Bob says.” Danielle cocked her head. “Hold on. Did you hear that? The baby monitor. I think she’s up.”
“But she just went down.” Mike heard a babbling sound coming from the monitor.
“It happens.” Danielle rose, smoothing down her sweater, her eyes twinkling. “Shall we try again?”
Chapter Eleven
Emily wailed at the top of her lungs, clinging to Danielle as she stood at the entrance to the family room. The baby had burst into tears at the sight of Mike, who had walked over to her, holding out his arms.
“Danielle, what did I do wrong?” Mike stopped, his arms falling to his sides. “I was just happy to see her.”
“She didn’t expect to see you. You’re new, and babies don’t like new people, especially around this age.”
“What about this age?”
“At seven months, their stranger anxiety is strongest, and she got introduced to you in the worst way, last night in the dark. Go back to the couch and give her time to get used to the idea that you’re here.”
Emily cried harder, her eyes as red as her holiday romper, which had an embroidered penguin in a Santa hat. Her hair looked damp at the scalp, under a headful of dark blonde curls.
“Okay.” Mike backed up to the couch and kept smiling. “Hi, Emily, hello, Emily.” He kept his voice soft and sweet. “It’s Daddy, honey. How’s my baby girl?” He didn’t know whether to sit or stand, so he popped up and down like a suburban jack-in-the-box. “Did you have a nice nap?”
Danielle rocked the hysterical baby. “Aw, sweetie, it’s okay, that’s your Daddy, and he just wants to say hello.”
“Don’t be afraid, Emily.” Mike looked around, picked up a toy dog, and gave it a kiss. “See the dog? You like dogs, don’t you? I like dogs.”
“Put that down. She hates that toy.”
“Oops, sorry.” Mike dropped the dog, flustered. “What toy does she like?”
“The bunny, the pink.”
“A bunny, yay!” Mike picked up the bunny and stroked its fuzzy head. “Look, Emily, I’m a nice guy. I come in peace.”
“Emily, see your bunny?” Danielle tried to put a pacifier in Emily’s mouth, but she wouldn’t take it, crying full bore. “Here, have your binky.” Suddenly the doorbell rang, and Danielle looked over. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.” Mike flopped on the couch, hearing the wailing subside as soon as they left the room. He tossed the bunny aside and remembered how he used to hold Emily all the time. She would look up at him, sucking her pacifier. She even used to fall asleep on his chest.
“Mike, Sara’s here!” Danielle called to him, and Mike stood up as she came back holding a teary Emily, sucking on her pacifier. They lingered at the threshold of the family room while a grief-stricken Sara entered the room and crossed to Mike, opening her arms in her thick wool coat.
“Oh, Mike, I’m so sorry about Chloe.”
“I’m sorry, too, for you.” Mike hugged her close, and Sara made a short, bulky bundle in his arms, sagging against him, drawing strength from him. She and Chloe had been best
friends from their first year teaching, and Mike found himself in a solar system that revolved around Chloe, but the sun was missing.
“I still can’t believe it, can you?” Sara released him, tears filling her large eyes, as brown as chocolate syrup. Her hair was almost the same color, cut at her chin, and her thin lips quivered with emotion. “She should be here. She would’ve been so happy to see you. It’s good that you’re safe, thank God.”
“Thanks, but it’s so strange, isn’t it? You and me, but not her?”
“I know, I miss her, so much.” Sara blinked her tears away and moved a strand of hair from her roundish cheek. “I’m not making this easier on you, am I?”
“You don’t have to make it easy.” Mike managed a smile for her. “It’s not easy. It’s impossible.”
“That’s how I feel, too. Chloe was my best friend, since forever. I knew her before Don. She even knew my parents.” Sara wiped her eyes with her palm, like a little girl. “Nobody at school can believe it. They all loved her, and Sue, Allison, and Michelle are beside themselves.”
“I bet.” Mike winced at the names of Chloe’s teacher friends. He liked them all, and there was no tighter-knit group than teachers, except soldiers.
“Don sends his love, too. He had to work, but he’ll be at the wake. By the way, is it okay with you that we took Jake?” Sara brightened a little. “The boys always wanted a cat, and they fell in love with him. But don’t worry, they know we have to give him back when you get home.”
“Thanks so much for taking him,” Mike said, wondering how he would ever take Jake away from her boys, but he’d deal with that later.
“Sara, would you like coffee?” Danielle asked, keeping her distance with the baby, who’d stopped crying, sucking wet-eyed on her pacifier.
“No, thanks.” Sara took off her coat, revealing dark slacks and a silly red sweater with a huge candy cane, obviously one of the Ironic Holiday Sweaters that she and Chloe used to wear every Christmas, for a joke at school. Mike suppressed a stab of pain, and Sara grimaced, reading his expression. “Oh no, Mike, the sweater, I forgot.”
“It’s okay.” Mike didn’t want her to feel bad and changed the subject. “So if you’re wondering why my daughter is hysterical, it’s my fault. She hates me.”
“No, she doesn’t.” Sara smiled, shakily. “She’s just getting used to you again.”
“That’s a good way to think about it.” Mike forced himself to smile back. “We’re like those movies where the wife gets amnesia and forgets she loves the husband.”
“She’ll be fine, in time.” Sara patted him on the back, and Mike always liked her easy manner, especially with kids. She had three sons and twenty-four students in her class, so nothing fazed her. “Here, maybe I can help. Danielle, can I have her?” Sara took Emily from Danielle, grinned at the baby, and held her up so that her tiny legs drooped together like an old-school clothespin. “How’s baby Emily? How’s the littlest angel?”
Mike marveled as Emily smiled down at Sara, then Sara cradled her and moved slowly toward him.
“Emily, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” Sara kissed her on the head. “So many people love you, and we’re gonna take great care of you, aren’t we?” Emily sucked harder, her blue eyes trained on Sara, and Mike noticed the baby’s eyes were a pale blue, like bluets growing wild in a meadow. Sara moved closer to him with Emily, saying to her, “You know much I love you, and so does your Daddy, and he’s here with us, right now. This big, hunky handsome guy belongs to you, did you know that?” Sara kissed Emily again. “Isn’t that great? That you have a Daddy who loves you?”
Mike held his breath and stayed perfectly still, then Sara stopped. Emily was closer to him than she’d ever been in daylight, and her gaze met his directly. He felt the same wondrous connection as last night.
But in the next second, Emily burst into tears, spitting out her pacifier.
Later, Danielle went upstairs with the baby, while Mike stood at the kitchen counter with Sara, having coffee. They’d tried for a half an hour to calm Emily down, to no avail, and Sara patted him on the back.
“Don’t worry, Mike. She was just tired. She woke up early from her nap.”
“Right, I know.” Mike wanted to talk about the vodka and understand why Chloe had been drinking, but he’d promised Bob to keep it a secret. “Sara, let me ask you, how was Chloe while I was away? Was she okay or what, emotionally?”
“She missed you, but she was happy with the baby.”
“Really?” Mike didn’t think it added up. “Could she have been depressed, like postpartum or anything?”
“No, not that.” Sara hesitated. “To be honest with you, she was having a tough time. I think being on her own, with such a new baby, was hard. It’s just the war, and the bad luck of the timing, with you being deployed when the baby was a newborn—” She stopped, abruptly, and Mike sensed she was protecting him.
“Tell me, Sara. I can handle it. She lived it, so the least I can do is hear about it.”
“But it’ll just make you feel bad.”
“It doesn’t matter how bad I feel, I want to understand. Tell me the truth.”
“You know it’s not your fault at all, you had to go, but I think it was hard on her, and it kind of caught her by surprise.” Sara’s face fell, her characteristic smile gone. “In the beginning, people dropped over from school, seeing the baby, saying hi, helping out, but then winter came on, and everybody got busy, and she was on her own. She worried about you all the time, watched TV news and checked online for the latest coverage of the war.”
“She never told me she worried.” Mike thought back to Chloe’s emails, which he practically had memorized. “Her emails are all upbeat and happy, about the baby.”
“She didn’t want to worry you.” Sara cocked her head. “I bet you did the same. You didn’t tell her when you were down or in danger, did you?”
“No, of course not.” Mike remembered editing his emails and Skype calls, because he couldn’t tell Chloe the truth. “I didn’t want to worry her, either.”
“That’s loving, really. She was trying to be brave, and I know she felt surprised at how hard it was, with a new baby. It’s like labor. If we knew how hard it was in advance, nobody would do it.” Sara smiled, sadly. “And just so you know, I was there a lot, checking on her and Emily. I only wish I’d been there that day, you know, the day she…”
“It’s okay, really.” Mike didn’t make her finish the sentence, and Sara swallowed hard, shaking her head slowly, with the bewilderment of grief.
“I know she felt alone, every new mother does, but she was so happy being an at-home mom.” Sara sniffled. “She told me, all the time. I saw it, and she was a born mother. Why do you ask?”
Mike couldn’t tell her, so he said the next thing that came to his mind. “I wonder if I can be as good a father.”
“Of course you can.”
“Can a father be as good as a mother?”
“Yes, Don is. He’s great with the boys.” Sara smiled, warmly. “It depends on the father. I hate to say it, but my father would not have been a good mother, but times were different back then. It was the generation when the father was happy to be the second-string, like an understudy.”
Mike had felt that way, with Chloe. She had been so good with Emily that he was happy being her second banana, like the general practitioner to her specialist.
“I know that your dad left when you were little, right?”
“Yes, I was ten.” Mike hated to go there. “I barely remember him.”
“But your mom was great.”
“Absolutely, the best.” Mike still missed her, though she’d been gone fifteen years. She died of breast cancer, and her bravery inspired him every day, even in Afghanistan. She would have been so proud to see him graduate from podiatry school and go on to serve.
“And you loved her, and you turned out great, so there’s proof. It’s not about gender, it’s all about love.” Sara touch
ed his arm. “You can be a great father and you will be.”
Mike wished he were that sure. “If Emily were a boy, I’d have a better shot.”
“That doesn’t matter, either. Your mother was a woman who raised a great man. You’ll be a man who raises a great woman. You’ll see, it’ll come naturally, it did for Chloe. She was also the most nurturing person on the planet. Didn’t you think so? Didn’t she take great care of things? The kids at school? Her art, all of us?” Tears filmed Sara’s large, round eyes, again. “She made us all feel so loved, didn’t she?”
Mike swallowed, remembering. He felt bathed in Chloe. She had brought him love, light, and colors. And now, pain. “Sara, let me ask your opinion about something. Danielle offered to take care of Emily, until I come back.”
“I know. She already asked me what I thought about the idea.”
“Okay.” Mike went with the flow. These women had better intelligence than CENTCOM. “So what do you think?”
“I think it’s an awesome idea.” Sara showed a flicker of her typically cheery self. “Danielle loves Emily, and Emily loves her and Bob. I think it helps Emily to be with someone she loves, and they want to help.”
“Right, they are amazing.”
“I also think it’s better for you. You can finish your deployment and not worry. If it’s a stranger, you know you’re going to worry, and so are Danielle and Bob.” Sara opened her palms. “Besides, look at this house, and it’s even better to have her live here, so she’s not thinking about Chloe. If she’s home, she’ll be looking for Mommy. If she’s here, she expects Danielle.”
Mike felt a tug, wondering if Emily would forget Chloe. He knew it could happen, because Emily had forgotten him.
“What’s the matter?” Sara asked, frowning slightly.
“Nothing.” Mike couldn’t say it without getting emotional.
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