by Robyn Carr
“Oh, you shouldn’t do that,” Lisa said from behind her husband. She had a chubby baby wearing a onesie against her shoulder. “I’ve been trying to lose the same fifteen pounds for the last five years at least.”
“You always look wonderful,” Sierra said.
“That’s what I tell her,” Rafe said. “But I’m a husband, which means she thinks I’m a liar. Or an idiot.”
“You’re so sweet,” Lisa said. “How thoughtful.”
“I’m neither,” Sierra said. “I’m nosy! I want to meet this little angel.”
Lisa turned him around. He rubbed his little hands in his eyes, then he looked at Sierra and gave her a large toothless grin. “Aww,” Sierra said. Then he promptly threw up on his powder blue onesie.
“Oh, no!” Lisa said. “Well, I guess we filled him up. I’m sorry, I—”
“Here,” Sierra said, taking the baby and turning him so Lisa could mop his face and pajamas. “Oh, now you feel better, don’t you? Elizabeth usually makes sure she gets it on me, but only if I’m wearing something clean and fresh. I think I’ve smelled like cheese since she came into my life.”
“I’ll get a new outfit,” Rafe said, turning away from them.
“He has a little issue. He doesn’t exactly burp,” Lisa said.
“But he’s okay, isn’t he?” Sierra asked.
“He’s amazing,” Lisa said. “We’re watching him very closely, and even though he’s four months, he’s sleeping on a SIDS monitor. In our room. There are no apparent injuries, thank God for that fantastic car seat. He’s going back for another workup tomorrow.”
“What in the world happened?”
“I think she was texting,” Rafe said, coming back into the room with a clean outfit. “Based on what the other involved drivers said.”
Sierra backed up to the couch, put the baby down and began unfastening his pajamas, peeling them off like an old pro. And the baby giggled. There is no sound more invigorating than the helpless giggle of a baby, so Sierra started talking to him—in his language. He giggled all the harder. He laughed all the way through the changing of his clothes, then she picked him up and cuddled him. She looked up at Rafe and Lisa. “Texting?”
“She was awfully young,” Lisa said. “Not that texting while driving is limited to the young. She was barely twenty.”
“Oh my God, just a child herself. Do you know any more about her? Was she married? Is there family?”
“The highway patrol is investigating and they know where this baby is—I’m sure we’ll hear something when there’s something to hear.”
“Is there a chance he’ll be traumatized from the accident? From what he saw and heard?” Sierra asked.
Lisa shook her head. “I don’t think so. He might be startled by loud noises or something, but any child would be.”
“There’s no evidence to suggest he’ll remember or understand,” Rafe said. “He’s just a few months.”
“He feels so cuddly and sweet,” Sierra said. “I think Connie so wanted to bring this little guy home. I didn’t know until last night that Connie is part of the foster care program.”
“A lot of us are,” Rafe said. “Fortunately, we don’t get that much business. This is the second time we’ve had a baby stay with us.”
“Connie asked if I’d think about going through their program so we could be involved if there’s a need. But I don’t know...” She jiggled the baby and absently kissed his head. “I’d be afraid to get attached.”
“Well, we do,” Lisa said. “But kids don’t get into foster care because they’re looking for a vacation. They’re in need of affection and stability. Sometimes they’re in need of boundaries, a little discipline. Love and patience and direction. There have been a couple we kept track of for a while. They weren’t with us long enough to miss us too badly but I felt pretty sure we gave them love and security while they were here.”
“She doesn’t like to admit it but she cries when they leave us,” Rafe said.
“Well, if you’re invested enough to help them, then you’re invested enough to hurt a little when it’s time to give them up, but I always felt they were going to a good place, a safe and loving home,” Lisa said.
“Doesn’t it get a little crowded?” Sierra asked. Their house was very comfortable, but small. They both laughed.
“Oh, yes,” Lisa said. Then she sat down on the sofa beside Sierra and they visited for a while. Even though Rafe was Connie’s closest friend and they’d socialized as couples, Sierra was learning things about Lisa for the first time. They’d married young and had their first child right away but the second pregnancy was very slow to come, no logical reason why. Then two in a row—bam! It was between the first and second that Lisa and Rafe got interested in foster care. Once in the program, they just couldn’t say no to a child in need of a home.
Lisa was a nurse who went to a part-time schedule when their family grew. She worked in a doctor’s office, which really came in handy with three kids and the occasional extra. With Rafe’s schedule and time off, she was able to work about twenty hours a week. Their dream was a large plot of land, something like what Connie had built his house on. “The kids need a dog and maybe a couple of horses, and I need a vegetable garden.”
“Have you ever seen Sully’s garden?” Sierra asked. “It’s like a small farm and he’s passionate about it. Lately he’s needed a little help, but he resists. If you ever want to see it, just let me know.”
“I’d love to,” she said.
“Babe, I’m going to start dinner,” Rafe said from the kitchen.
“Oh my God, is it dinnertime? I have to get groceries and get home!” Sierra said.
“Don’t panic,” Lisa said with a laugh. “Our dinners get earlier and earlier. Pretty soon they’ll be late lunches. But with three kids to get ready for bed—oops, make that four—we’re so anxious for bedtime to finally come it’s just ridiculous. Plus Sarah, our eight-year-old, has homework every night, if you can believe it.” Lisa put out her hands. “You’re going to have to give him up if you plan to go shopping.”
“He feels like an appendage,” she said. “He’s sound asleep. Should I put him down?”
“Nah, he could do with extra holding. He might not realize it, but he’s been through a lot.”
Sierra left the Vadas home feeling refreshed. New. She loved their life in their too-small house with too many kids. Of course, Sierra wasn’t completely convinced—she didn’t think she’d have a brood. A couple might be nice. A garden—she’d have started one if it wasn’t for Sully’s. She liked seeing the elk in the yard some mornings or blocking the road.
It was such a nice day, no rain for a change, that she bought hamburger and buns. Too early for corn, she got some zucchini, an onion, mushrooms and new potatoes to put on the grill. And when she walked in, she found Connie with his cell phone in his hand, watching the door. The house was tidy, there were vacuum cleaner tracks on the carpet and the kitchen was spotless.
“I was just going to text you,” he said.
She put her grocery sacks on the counter and then put her arms around Connie. “We’ve been lazy,” she said. “We have to decide on details about a wedding and get married. This is silly. We want to and our families are getting edgy. Do you think they’re afraid we’re going to split if we’re not official?”
His big hands circled her waist. “It’s already official for me, but I’m off tomorrow if you feel like getting a license.” He gave her a look. “What happened to get you in a hurry?”
“I’m ready,” she said. “I want us to be a family. I’m not sure what kind of family—I’ll look into that foster care program, but I’m not sure that’s where we’re going. Let’s start with me and you. I’m very sure of that.”
I have learned that to be with those I like is enough.
—WALT WHITMAN
/> 7
SID HAD A real soft spot for rich chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream. And maybe a little extra whipped cream. And it appeared she was growing a soft spot for Dakota. He’d logged on four weeks at the soup kitchen, including one Saturday night that Sid didn’t go. That meant three Saturday nights of cake, ice cream and conversation with Sid. On her Saturday night off she had taken the boys to a concert, some band they were into, but she had to stay away from them and their friends so it didn’t really appear they were chaperoned.
“But was it fun?” he asked.
“Sorry, what?” She put her hand behind her ear as if she were deaf.
“Never mind.” He laughed. “Listen, Sid, I’ve invested four Saturday nights, many huge slices of chocolate cake, a dozen beers and burgers, and that’s just in the last month. And you haven’t given me any indication I’m making progress.”
“What kind of progress?” she asked, licking her fork.
“There’s no agenda, Sid. I like you and you like me. Most people would be wrestling like crazy lovers do.”
“And you think that’s what I’m looking for because...?”
He leaned toward her. “You’re an adult woman in her thirties.”
“I told you, I don’t date.”
“Yes, you do. You dragged me to a soup kitchen—it was a lure. To earn you I had to display my charitable side, but I screwed up your plan. I like the place. And this is a date. Not much of one, but a date. Last week after cleanup, while you were going deaf, I had coffee and cake with Sister Mary Jacob. In fact, I’m thinking I might be more successful if I put the moves on her.”
Sid laughed.
“Something has come up,” he said. “My sister has decided it’s time to get married. Sierra and Connie. They’ve been together about a year, lived together almost as long and they’re finally doing it. It’s going to be small. Very small. Family and close friends. No big event but a nice small party. Be my date.”
“Really? You need a date?”
“Sid, you know Sierra. You’re friends. You know Connie and Sully and a couple of the firefighters who will be there. I hear Connie’s mom and brother will come. Be my date.”
“What’s the price of admission?” she asked with a half smile.
“There’s no price,” he said. “I might lose my mind and beg sometimes but you will always be completely safe with me. Always. I won’t even hold your hand without permission.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered by your restraint or disappointed that I haven’t made you lose your mind yet.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “Mary Jacob was a more accommodating date.”
“What did you two talk about?” she asked.
“Well, the homeless situation. And then she asked me for money or to find people who had money. Then she talked about some of the volunteers she knows. I asked her what she did for fun and she said she was doing it. She’s not a martyr, you know—she’s doing exactly what she’d be doing if she weren’t a nun. In fact, she’s only a nun because at this point she can’t come up with a reason to give it up. There were some priests, cardinals and popes who she prayed on a long time, apparently to no effect—her words. She’s basically a tough old broad.”
“I know,” Sid said. “I love her. Not Mother Teresa, for sure. She’s more like Ma Kettle.”
He smiled around a forkful of cake. “You’re not old enough to remember Ma and Pa Kettle.”
“Neither are you. You know who would play Mary Jacob in the movie? Shirley MacLaine. Except for the red hair. Mary Jacob is a big woman. Would you have taken her to the wedding?”
“I would, except she’d be working the crowd for donations.”
“Well, you didn’t give her money, did you?” she asked.
“Of course I gave her money,” he said. “She was staring at me over that coffee cup, those bushy brows moving around, expressing her innermost thoughts...”
“You should think it through,” Sid said. “It’s a very worthy cause but you can’t fund it. You work hard for your money.”
“I know. I’m not going to. But I’m going to hit up some people I know. And I bet there are other ways to get her what she needs. Sid, it’s been a long time since I was forced to do something I didn’t want to do. And I learned a lesson.”
“When was the last time?” she asked. “Just out of curiosity.”
“Ah...well, hell, what can it hurt. In the Army I refused a direct order and got in a ton of trouble.”
“What’s a ton of trouble in the Army?”
“Jail,” he said. “Or, as we so affectionately called it, the brig. But I was determined in the moment that I had to do it. It didn’t look great in my file. But I think I’d do it again.”
“That was very brave of you,” she said.
“People do it all the time—go to jail for what they believe in. Journalists do it. Protesters do it. I bet you a hundred dollars Mary Jacob has been arrested.” Then he grinned. “Tell me about the boys. Tell me about your brother. Tell me again why you don’t have a boyfriend.”
So she told him about her nephews and her brother, just brief sketches, but he was very interested. He reciprocated by telling her things she didn’t already know about Cal and Sierra. But then she asked the question he knew would come eventually. “Will your parents be at the wedding?”
“I don’t think Sierra will invite them. My father suffers from dementia of sorts. Not Alzheimer’s, but he’s easily confused and travel with him would be a nightmare. It’s supposed to be a happy occasion, after all.”
“Why are they having the wedding now?” she asked.
“I think it’s a time thing—as in they don’t have that much of it. And gathering what there is of our family isn’t easy. Maggie has her practice in Denver, Cal has a practice here, when the Crossing is full of campers it’s hard for Sully to close up shop and in summer Connie has both the fire department and search and rescue duty. And they’ve decided to become foster parents.”
Sid’s eyes popped up from her plate. They were round and startled. “Huh?”
“Yeah, some of their couple friends do that and I guess Connie has been through the certification program. Friends they sometimes hang out with have had foster kids and Sierra thinks it’s a good idea. I’ve seen her with Cal’s little girl—they’re both great with kids.”
“Wow,” she said. “You make it seem like the whole family is virtuous.”
“It’s a trick, Sid,” he said. “You’ll fall in love with me because I gave Sister Mary Jacob a hundred bucks.”
She made a pffftt sound with her lips. “Not for a hundred bucks I won’t.”
When he walked her to her car, he grabbed her hand and she allowed it. When they were beside her car he swung her around and pulled her against him. Closely against him. She looked up at him.
“You said I would always be safe with you,” Sid said quietly.
“Try to get away,” he said.
She pulled back and was instantly free.
“I’m not taking hostages, Sid.”
Without warning she flung herself against him, into his arms, dug her fingers into the thick hair at the back of his head and smothered him in a kiss so sweet he was breathless. For a second, shock kept him from reacting. Then he circled her waist with his arms and held her, moving over her mouth with passion and urgency. The taste of her, more chocolate than anything, turned him on and blew his mind. If there had been a private room nearby, maybe she wouldn’t have been all that safe. And neither would he.
“Whoa,” he said, tightening his arms. “You are definitely worth waiting for.”
“I think you’re manipulating me,” she whispered against his lips.
“I wouldn’t even know how,” he said, kissing her again. And again, that kiss was hot and crazy. He really wanted her. And
yet this was not the time or place. “We’re in a parking lot,” he said. “We have three choices. We can climb in my truck and make out, we can go somewhere and be alone or we can table this for a while.”
She relaxed in his arms. “I’m taking door number three. Under the circumstances.”
“I have my own place.”
“My brother is probably expecting me.”
“I still have my own place,” he said.
“It’ll keep.” She gave his cheek a pat. “I’ll go to the wedding with you, but only so you don’t have to be embarrassed by having a nun for a date.”
“Okay,” he said hoarsely. “Can I at least have your phone number now?”
* * *
Sid was a little dreamy while driving home. She was having a conversation with herself. Aloud. She’d been doing this since grade school. Eventually she was overheard, especially in the computer lab, and learned she wasn’t the only person who did that. She’d ask and answer the questions as they came. Usually mathematical or theoretical, but ultimately questions in every category. It was how she worked things out.
What do you think you’re doing, Sidney?
She was hooking up.
But she wasn’t good at hookups. She hadn’t had very many. And the one she did have turned into a husband! A very bad husband. She wasn’t about to let that happen again. She wasn’t crazy.
That looked a little crazy out there in the parking lot, spread on him like butter on bread. But she couldn’t help herself. She liked him.
Did she ever like David in that way? She couldn’t remember. She’d asked herself a hundred times—was her heart broken because she loved him so much or because he’d betrayed her in so many ways?
In the beginning, before they married, she was very taken with him. He was sweet and attentive. There was her father’s death, and David really hung in there.
Uh, he went to the funeral and then didn’t he have finals? Or midterms? Or whatever it was, it was so critical.
